More bad/good
Good: I finally worked up the courage and energy to clean my room.
Bad: Mom came home in one of her nuclear tizzies because the a/c fan in her car wasn't working and so she was hot. "I"M HAVING HEAT STROKE!!" I came downstairs (the mistake I wish I could take back) to check on what the fuss was. She was asking Sis if she could borrow the other car. I politely asked if she had made sure that while the thing was on a/c, setting 4, outside air, that she also had the windows rolled down, because if the windows aren't down, the air can't be sucked in properly. I mentioned this because I had experimented a lot this morning when I encountered the exact same problem. She started yelling at me that she KNEW how HER car worked, "I"VE BEEN DRIVING IT SINCE THE DAY I WAS BORN!!" She then started lamenting how if she had to use her car, she would be in rush hour traffic and probably die behind the wheel of heat stroke. I mentioned that, actually, she would be heading into the medical center while everyone else was heading out, therefore she probably wouldn't get stuck in non-moving rush hour traffic. I ran upstairs and quickly pulled up the traffic monitoring site and made sure that her route was clear of all problems and moving at posted speeds. "Mom, it should only take you about 45 minutes to get there, since there's no traffic, so you don't have to leave for at least another 30 minutes. Why don't you lie down and get cooled off for a little while?" This was met with hostile bitching about me telling her how to drive, etc. I sat down in the living room while she sucked on some ice (MY SECOND MISTAKE). She then decided to launch into me about money issues. Somehow I'm draining her bank account. This is basically impossible because: 1) when I borrow her debit card to physically use, I ask her permission first which includes a description of what I am getting and how much it will cost, 2) if, for some reason, she can't get ahold of a computer, she authorizes me to transfer funds from her account to mine. This is always only with her permission and with a set dollar amount. She then double-checks that I've done the correct thing when she receives the confirmation e-mail. 3) THERE ISN'T ANY OTHER WAY FOR ME TO USE HER ACCOUNT. I have no idea where she gets this. My favorite part was when she started launching into me about how much food I've been eating and how much it's costing her. When I disagreed with her assessment of the situation, she accused me of arguing with her just to argue.
Good: I talked to Sis afterwards, and she listened to my feelings. She was especially sympathetic when it came to Mom being so horrible about food. I have an eating disorder. It's a disorder, and a compulsion, and therefore, I don't have much control over it sometimes. I'm trying to do my very best to not eat as much, but it's hard. I tend to binge during the night, after midnight. This has been this way since high school (however, in high school, I was still active enough that I burned off whatever calories I consumed overnight). Sis said she hears me make a bunch of trips up and down the stairs at night. I said that most of the time I'm getting a refill on a drink, or going to the bathroom. I usually don't bring food up everytime I go downstairs. And that Mom has a very skewed view of the situation because for some unknown reason, she never factors in that Sis eats a pretty decent amount, too. So, when a box of brown rice disappears, it's potentially Sis and not me (which actually happened last night). Or, if she sees a package of cheese disappear, she figures I've eaten it all, when a lot has gone to Sis to make food, etc. Sis told me that she would have a talk with Mom for me... since she was once in my shoes (being bulemic, she really understands the binge compulsion), she can explain what's going on with me. And she can hopefully get Mom to realize that telling me how much money she's spending on food only makes it worse and not better. Basically,the more stress I'm feeling, the more likely I am to binge that night. It's like I sometimes have a black hole in my stomach. No matter how much I eat, I just don't feel full. Then, finally, I'll feel full to bursting. It's kind of like doing tequila shots: you can knock back 3 with no problem and no real effect, but the 4th one all of the sudden makes you feel completely drunk off your ass and like throwing up.
Good: I'm going to try and relax a little and clean my room in a while. That way I can sit and art this evening to make myself feel better. Arting always helps. I put on good music and just paint to my heart's content. If only I had the room I'd do so right now. Arg.
Bad: Mom came home in one of her nuclear tizzies because the a/c fan in her car wasn't working and so she was hot. "I"M HAVING HEAT STROKE!!" I came downstairs (the mistake I wish I could take back) to check on what the fuss was. She was asking Sis if she could borrow the other car. I politely asked if she had made sure that while the thing was on a/c, setting 4, outside air, that she also had the windows rolled down, because if the windows aren't down, the air can't be sucked in properly. I mentioned this because I had experimented a lot this morning when I encountered the exact same problem. She started yelling at me that she KNEW how HER car worked, "I"VE BEEN DRIVING IT SINCE THE DAY I WAS BORN!!" She then started lamenting how if she had to use her car, she would be in rush hour traffic and probably die behind the wheel of heat stroke. I mentioned that, actually, she would be heading into the medical center while everyone else was heading out, therefore she probably wouldn't get stuck in non-moving rush hour traffic. I ran upstairs and quickly pulled up the traffic monitoring site and made sure that her route was clear of all problems and moving at posted speeds. "Mom, it should only take you about 45 minutes to get there, since there's no traffic, so you don't have to leave for at least another 30 minutes. Why don't you lie down and get cooled off for a little while?" This was met with hostile bitching about me telling her how to drive, etc. I sat down in the living room while she sucked on some ice (MY SECOND MISTAKE). She then decided to launch into me about money issues. Somehow I'm draining her bank account. This is basically impossible because: 1) when I borrow her debit card to physically use, I ask her permission first which includes a description of what I am getting and how much it will cost, 2) if, for some reason, she can't get ahold of a computer, she authorizes me to transfer funds from her account to mine. This is always only with her permission and with a set dollar amount. She then double-checks that I've done the correct thing when she receives the confirmation e-mail. 3) THERE ISN'T ANY OTHER WAY FOR ME TO USE HER ACCOUNT. I have no idea where she gets this. My favorite part was when she started launching into me about how much food I've been eating and how much it's costing her. When I disagreed with her assessment of the situation, she accused me of arguing with her just to argue.
Good: I talked to Sis afterwards, and she listened to my feelings. She was especially sympathetic when it came to Mom being so horrible about food. I have an eating disorder. It's a disorder, and a compulsion, and therefore, I don't have much control over it sometimes. I'm trying to do my very best to not eat as much, but it's hard. I tend to binge during the night, after midnight. This has been this way since high school (however, in high school, I was still active enough that I burned off whatever calories I consumed overnight). Sis said she hears me make a bunch of trips up and down the stairs at night. I said that most of the time I'm getting a refill on a drink, or going to the bathroom. I usually don't bring food up everytime I go downstairs. And that Mom has a very skewed view of the situation because for some unknown reason, she never factors in that Sis eats a pretty decent amount, too. So, when a box of brown rice disappears, it's potentially Sis and not me (which actually happened last night). Or, if she sees a package of cheese disappear, she figures I've eaten it all, when a lot has gone to Sis to make food, etc. Sis told me that she would have a talk with Mom for me... since she was once in my shoes (being bulemic, she really understands the binge compulsion), she can explain what's going on with me. And she can hopefully get Mom to realize that telling me how much money she's spending on food only makes it worse and not better. Basically,the more stress I'm feeling, the more likely I am to binge that night. It's like I sometimes have a black hole in my stomach. No matter how much I eat, I just don't feel full. Then, finally, I'll feel full to bursting. It's kind of like doing tequila shots: you can knock back 3 with no problem and no real effect, but the 4th one all of the sudden makes you feel completely drunk off your ass and like throwing up.
Good: I'm going to try and relax a little and clean my room in a while. That way I can sit and art this evening to make myself feel better. Arting always helps. I put on good music and just paint to my heart's content. If only I had the room I'd do so right now. Arg.