WHAT'S THAT SMELL?

It's Monday morning and I walked back into my house to find my Newfoundlander had diarrhea and I am wearing white pants. I am soooo not cleaning this up right now. So I have sprayed some Febreze and lit some candles to try to drown out the smell until I can stomach cleaning out the dog's crate.

Speaking of wading through excrement (nice segue huh) I am going to start exploring my need to fill the emptiness in my life with possessions and food. Bare with me over the next while as I do some emotional dumping (hahaha) and dig deep into what makes me tick. I am warning you now this won't always be pretty but I promise to be honest.

Part 1 - Earliest Memories

I was 5 years old and had the flu so I had to stay home from school. My dad looked after me that day - for what reason I don't know. At one point I felt sick and started running to the bathroom. Unfortunately I didn't make it and puked on the carpet. My dad got angry with me, slapped me and made me clean it up. For years I wasn't sure if I had imagined this but this year I told my mom and she confirmed it was true. My father had told my mom that he made me clean up my puke (which was okay with her apparently) but he had neglected to tell her about the smack. I don't know if it would have made any difference if she did but there you go. I'm just putting it out there.

Around the same time I remember my dad trying to fix the television. It was an old floor model that had to be 'tuned' by 2 handles in the front. He was kneeling on the floor in front of the TV fiddling with the knobs trying to get a clearer picture. At one point he asked my mom if the picture was okay. She said it was fine. He bent back to see the image and was enraged. He screamed 'It's not okay', picked up the television and threw it against the wall. Immediately the tube inside broke and there was an enormous black hole in the middle of the screen. That television sat in our basement for years and every time I looked at I was reminded of that day.

So what should I take from this? My dad had a violent temper? Yes. My mom was scared of him? Hell yes. No one was there to protect us from him? Amen! But does any of this really contribute to my problems now? I know that I have always been somewhat insecure and vulnerable. I can see the relationship with my father as having a direct affect on those feelings. And as a result am I using food to sooth myself when I am vulnerable and insecure? Yes - absolutley.

I have never wanted to be like my father. I have spent years trying to calm myself down and control my reactions. To be zen. When in reality I was using food to try to calm myself because of my feelings of fear. I was always scared when my father lost his temper because I was a vulnerable child. Now to feel safe I eat. The act of eating soothes me. I can't believe I never thought of this before.

I have always known that I use food as an emotional crutch but I could never figure out why. Well, I have managed to peel back one layer today. Now I have to deal with another mess in the next room and get on with the day. I have a lot to think about and more emotional baggage to explore but for now I will mop up my other messes cuz pee-ew something in this house stinks!