Missing Mom

I miss my mom immensely.  Oddly enough I almost feel closer to her now than in life.  Strange, I know.

My mom was so much more than her anorexia but, anorexia was a huge part of her.  The insidious disease that helped her cope with the chaos around her, stole so much at the same time.  It is different when you have an addiction related to food.  Alcoholics need to stay away from alcohol.  However, no matter how hard you try you can not run away from food.  Whether a person needs a healthy relationship with food so they can beat obesity (that is me), or they need to realize that food is not the enemy and helps to feed their life.

My mom and I battled a lot.  I wanted to scream at the world and wondered how the adults around me didn’t seem to get our family was in crisis.  My mom was terrified of being happy.  She would sabotage things so she wouldn’t be disappointed.  As a young child, my mom would be laughing with her sister, their mom would say if you laugh you are going to cry soon.  People do not realize how damaging these messages are.  My mom would frequently tell me how she was fat, stupid, and the list goes on.  I could not and would not feed into the delusions which infuriated her.

I know my mom loved me.  She always wanted to know I was safe.  She actually blamed herself for my weight issues.  I never did.  She wanted to be there when I was sick.  She would cheer me on in whatever way she could.  She tried.

Unfortunately, the demons my mom would have to face would have probably broken her anyway.  Not because she wasn’t strong.  Some monsters are too scary.  To break the hold of anorexia, she would have to deal with the horrific abuse she suffered and allow herself to be angry at those who were supposed to protect her.  That is a lot to ask and come back the other end not needing a straight jacket.

So, as much as I miss my mom every single day, I am grateful she can finally be at peace.  Kind of messed up I know.  She no longer has to battle anorexia and the self loathing.  She no longer has to suffer.

I tried throughout my life to save her.  I know it was not my job but I tried anyway.  I wanted so desperately for her to see how wonderful she was.  Perhaps that is why I became a nurse.  Oddly enough I know that is not my true calling in life.  Now I am 43 and need to chase my own dreams and goals.  I must break the cycle in our family that destroyed so many, at least for myself.

–Sarah Cobble20180312_215730

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