Home for the Holidays

Thanks to everyone for all the sweet comments! It means so much to me that people read this, much less take the time to write back. You guys are the best.

So, the home front. My brother isn't here yet (he lives in Big City about an hour away) so it's just me and my parents at home this week. Which is fine, I love my parents. But it's also a little stifling after living on my own. I forget what I need permission to do. I've always been a "good" kid and my parents have always given me the benefit of the doubt, so sometimes the lines are a little blurry. Do I have a curfew? I don't even know.

My mom has been all over the food thing, and I can't take it. I'm super close to my mom, but her constant comments ("Have you eaten breakfast?" "What are you making for lunch?" "Aren't you supposed to pack a Clif bar?") are driving me absolutely insane. She's never been this vocal about it, even a year ago when I was clearly at my worst. The constant scrutiny makes me just want to avoid her, and that makes me miserable.

At my last appointment, I talked to R about how my mom generally stays out of my ED stuff, which makes it doubly difficult/awkward/aggravating when she does insert herself. R suggested just being honest, and telling my mom that the food questions are unhelpful. The obvious solution, no? But for some reason, I find it so hard to talk to her about it. It feels impossible to admit that yes, I really do care this much about my weight.

Christmas is coming too fast, and it's bringing up some mixed feelings for me. A lot of the stuff I want can't exactly be wrapped up in a box; peace of mind, for one. I want someone to take away my constant anxiety and fearfulness. I want to be healthy (without getting fat). I want to be satisfied with my healthy weight, and I want to be able to stay there. I want to be able to eat without counting calories, or without even thinking about calories. I want to enjoy the important parts of the holiday and forget the rest. I want to be able to communicate to my parents how much I love and appreciate them, and that it has nothing to do with what's sitting under the tree.

I also want to get everyone else the perfect gifts, to make up for my being less than the perfect daughter/sister/friend etc. I hate feeling like a lame, un-fun, unenthusiastic person to be around, and I have this vague sense of wanting to compensate for that by making everyone else's Christmas morning spectacular. I'm a product of a materialist culture, sue me.

Speaking of...I love giving presents, but I hate shopping for them. My dream Christmas would involve no presents, just a weeklong trip to a tropical island. Although there is the bathing suit issue...