Too loud, too big, too much, too intense, too me.

When I was about 8, I came home from school and complained to my mom about some of the kids who were teasing me. I’d just started a new school where I barely knew anyone, and I felt isolated and alone. My mother listened to me for a moment, and gave me two pieces of Mom-Wisdom that hit me at my core, because when you are 8 and your mom tells you something, She Must Be Right. She’s Mom. She’s a superhero. Listen closely to her Mom-Wisdom. Continue reading

The perpetual cycle of shame

Long before I ever started therapy, I struggled with an overwhelming sense of shame.  On the surface, I was ashamed that I had to resort to purging to handle my issues with food, and that sometimes I had to hit or hurt myself to feel better.  I felt terrible and weak that I did these things, so much so that I only told one person about my self-harm, a then-BF I dated in college.  He later figured out the purging when we went to a mexican restaurant and I came back from the bathroom with a flushed face.  Ironically, he was angry that I had “wasted” the food (I didn’t – it was delicious, which is why I ate it and then purged it) and never expressed concern about my purging, or even how I’d been lying to him the entire time.   Continue reading