Childhood Scars, Addiction & Self Discovery

Dr. Laura Smith (a psychiatrist that Oprah frequently features) had once mentioned something about childhood wounds. She says that nobody escapes childhood without some kind of battle scars and I never really thought too much about it. I had always considered my childhood pretty uneventful. I guess I had a few issues with my hot temper and some mean grade-school kids, maybe a situation or two in high-school with a friend or boyfriend, but I really can’t say that it was all that rough… always dramatic, but not really all that painful. I always had my mom there to help coach me through it and I knew that my home was a stable and safe place for me to recover.

I always considered myself pretty successful and happy through at least junior high and high school. In fact, I considered myself part of, or at least accepted by the popular crowd. I even ran into some old school mates when I was visiting at home last time and they told me that I was the girl that every girl wanted to be, and every guy wanted to be with… (What?!? Why didn’t I ever catch onto that?)

Anyway, I digress. The point is that it wasn’t until just this week, in Barrow of all places, that I realized that I do have childhood wounds! I was having a conversation with one of my newest real-life friends at the gym and discovered that we are both feeling like we don’t measure up, that somehow we aren’t good enough. It was something about the way that she said it that made me snap back to all the great successes that I have had in my life and the feeling of insignificance… the feeling that my hard work and sacrifice were never good enough.

Good enough for whom? Who was I trying so hard to impress? Why did I so desperately need that validation? Then I remembered a letter I once wrote my dad using those exact words in relation to not feeling good enough or not measuring up to his expectations. I remember feeling really rejected and frustrated that I wasn’t enough to make him proud. I must have been about 17 when I wrote that… Whoda thunk that a 10-year-old memory would sneak up and kick me in the ass?

I can’t really pin-point one experience, but a long history of constantly feeling that my best was never good enough for him. My graduation from high school was met with “good, now you can move out of the house.” He even handed me $1500 and said “make sure that lasts till you get a job ‘cause that’s all you’re getting.” Even my graduation from Dad’s Alma mater was undermined by the impression that my major wasn’t hard enough, or profitable enough or respectable enough on some level. My most recent was last August when I had lost 100 lbs. and his response was "Great! How many more do you still have to lose?" Wow! That really hurts. I didn’t realize how painful all that was until just writing it out now.

There was a time when I stopped caring. But those were the roughest years of my life. I looked for approval elsewhere… and got it… but you and I both know how empty addictions are. Boys gave me all the approval I could ever need until they got what they wanted. Alcohol only clouded my judgment, and "everything looks fine with beer goggles on." I even tried some mysterious brownies once, but all that did was really convince me that drugs are NOT, nor ever will be my thing… but that story is for another post.

The crazy thing is that it wasn’t until I weeded out those “addictions” and became the equivalent of a Catholic NUN that I felt that I truly had my dad’s respect. I felt like he respected the fact that I had the guts to completely change my life and dedicate it to helping others. I thought that this was a turning point and that he was going to start approving of my life choices from there out. But mission life isn’t real, and it doesn’t last forever… Thank You God! So then I got married. Dad was having some issues with the church he raised me in, and the fact that he wasn’t sure about the whole temple gig probably played into the stress of the event. Then there was the bit about him not liking Hubby AT ALL. At any rate, he made it perfectly clear that he didn’t approve… and that story too is for another post.

So, I have been thinking about the long-term effects of these life-long feelings and discovered that there may be something in them holding me back from reaching my potential. I am not going to sit here and write about how my daddy didn’t love me… because I know that he did. I know that even today, he would lay down his life for me without even thinking twice. The truth is that it all comes back to the spirit of the intention vs. the result of the mistake… or series of mistakes. I know that often times, his intention was to protect me and teach me and love me, he intended to be encouraging and loving and inspiring in so many ways. I actually told him once in a good heart-to-heart “Dad, your intentions are good, but your delivery sucks! You might wanna work on that.”

At any rate, I thought that I had chalked most of it up to his issues and gotten over it, but now every time I don’t feel like I am good enough, I am driven to the cupboards… I call it addiction transfer: From indiscriminate boinking to indiscriminate eating. (Well, not all that indiscriminate on either, I have my standards. I prefer fun and tasty… men and food. It is actually pretty ironic how my favorite addictions have had and now have the least substance.

So, why do I write all of this deep craziness? I am trying to get to the bottom of why I am addicted to junk food, and what I can do about it. I have the feeling that no matter how many diets I go on, or how many pounds I successfully lose, they will always come back with interest because the root of the problem is not being addressed. I can treat the symptoms of flabby abs and chunky butt, but they will keep coming back until I have the courage to deal with the source.

I recognize that as much as I love my dad, he isn’t the most important influence in my life. I rarely speak to him, and never really feel rejected by him anymore. I cherish the time we get to spend together and am really looking forward to our trip next month. So what is rejecting me now… ME!? I would much prefer to think that it is triggered by something outside myself, something that I can easily identify and eliminate.

Is it the media? I already have enough evidence to say that THEY don’t know anything and aren’t worth basing my worth on. Is it genetic OCD, once repressed but now catching up to me? I can get counseling and meds for that. Was it a lifetime of being Mormon? Well, I decided that this was part of it and eliminated it, but it didn’t entirely fix the problem, it just helped me see and admit that there was a problem.

What is it? How do I beat this monster? How do I overcome an enemy I don’t even know and can’t see? Oh, I wish there were an easy button. Maybe I just need to face the fact that though I am not mad at my dad, and don’t blame him for my troubles, I still want him to know how it made me feel. Maybe I just need validation that he thinks I am okay now. But why would I be basing my worth on his opinion? It’s important to me because I love and respect him… but is it really where I base my worth? NO. Plus, I wonder what good it would do to hurt him like that. He too suffers from OCD and I think it would really eat at him to have his mistakes from 10+ years ago regurgitated and thrown back in his face. I really don’t feel like this is going to get me the results that I am after.

I could blame it on my hubby. Maybe it has something to do with losing myself since we got married, or not getting enough support. Maybe we don’t have sex enough. Hey, maybe I should try to transfer the addiction back to sex!?! That sounds fun… But what if it is too much pressure on Hubby and he doesn’t want to perform, or the performance isn’t passionate enough of validating enough to fill the void and one or both of us start looking elsewhere? THAT would really suck. Plus, I am trying to get to the root of the addiction, not transfer it back to another destructive behavior.

I know that I am not the only person in the world that feels this way. In fact, I know that a lot of women, especially mothers, have similar feelings and addictions. I don’t want to focus on the problem, but the SOLUTION. I want to know how other mothers fight it. I would love any advice anyone can offer. Post a comment, post a post on your blog and direct me there, send me a private e-mail, anything could help. Even just knowing that I’m not alone is comforting.

When I feel this desperate, I talk to my mom. She said that she put all of her worth into her children and THAT didn’t work… I don’t know what she was trying to say… either that she thinks her kids aren’t that spectacular or successful and therefore don’t give her enough worth as a mother, or that placing the control outside herself put her in a state of helplessness and worry. I tend to think the latter is truer than the former because she fights her own vicious battle of food addiction.

HEY! THAT’S IT! I have to base my worth on what I control. Looks like the monster IS inside me… it is some sick way of thinking that has chained me to my addiction and I think I may be on to how to fight it. I have to retrain myself to base my worth on something that is meaningful and substantial and IN MY CONTROL; I have to retrain myself to get my validation from the Universe, or God or… or Myself!

Crap! Now I am starting to sound like that Smiley guy from Saturday Night Live who always says "I’m good enough; I’m smart enough, and dog on it, people like me."

Anyway, now that I have identified the “stink” I can work on getting it out! I know what is meaningful to me, but what do I control? THAT, my friend, is another post. I will probably be starting a new label called “beating addiction” for this and other related posts. Stay tuned for more ramblings self discovery and the saga ov beating my addiciton.