I was driving to work today, and I saw something that gave me a quick flashback of my childhood. It was a station wagon, and in the back were 3 little girls. My two younger sisters and I spent more time in the back of my Mom’s Blue Ford Station wagon then I can remember.
I didn’t have a dad growing up so my Grandfather was the one who looked over our safety and finances. He bought my mother that car, so she would be safe. Well let me tell you, that thing was the size of the Titanic, and it could have probably hit an iceberg and lived to tell about it.
It was the most god awful looking thing you have ever seen, and as I grew older I began to loathe it, and die of embarrassment every time I got in it. I think I spent my whole junior high years in the fetal position in the back seat.
However it tickled me to think back to those times, but after that came a sharp pain. A pain that I try to avoid, but cannot as it haunts me everywhere I go. It is the pain knowing that I don’t have my grandparents anymore coated with the fact that I have very little connection to my immediate family.
Here I am driving to work, Melissa DeHart..the daughter, granddaughter, sister, and niece who was one step away from the grave, and now I am on my way to a full time job, in California, in a brand new Fiat, and most importantly a healthy weight and in full-blown Recovery.
I am so grateful for my life, and there is a little chunk of me who wishes my family could see me now and recognize my achievements.
I have worked so hard to get where I am at, and on top of that have completely transformed myself as a person.
I think I would be a pretty awesome daughter, sister, and niece these days, and it’s a shame none of that can see that.
So at his point in my blog, I already have huge tears in my eyes, and giant lump in my throat.
OK, so silly isn’t that just writing a few words like that can make a big girl who isn’t supposed to cry crumble.
I know there is part of me that should just let it go, appreciate what I have, but sorry sometimes …IT JUST SUCKS.
They live in the past and I live in the future…I really wish they would just hurry up and join this Century.
It’s not the year 2000 anymore, I don’t look like a medical cadaver anymore people.
I am not starving myself anymore, my head isn’t down the toilet, I haven’t been at the gym for 6 hours.
I am not lying to you, stealing from you, or screaming horrible things to your face.
I know it’s hard to forgive and forget, and I don’t expect that.
What I wish for my family is that they would give up on the hope that the past can be changed.
I just don’t see how a father can see his two other daughters, but have nothing to do with his first born.
The one who’s middle name is his, whose eyes are his, and who shares his same overly sensitive personality.
I also don’t see how a mother can completely ban her daughter from her life, all based on the fact that I don’t share her same point of view on weight and food anymore, and that I don’t want to be part of her religious faith.
I don’t know how I was not wanted at my little sister’s wedding by certain family members, so I didn’t get to go, and how she just gave birth to two sweet little baby girls, and I have yet to meet them.
This all is stuff I stuff, it’s stuff I bury away, because if I try to think about it I get very sad.
I will also tell you that a lot of people are in the same boat as me, and although it’s not a very pretty one when it comes to this, it is something that sometimes we just can’t control.
Just because you change, other people do not.
You cannot control anyone else’s behavior but your own.
That being said, I don’t use it as an excuse to act out in my eating disorder. I don’t starve myself, or stick my head down the toilet anymore to numb the pain. I have accepted the facts as they are, and all I care about is moving on with my future, and not living in the past anymore.
I don’t feel sorry for myself, but I do feel sorry for my family that they can’t see what a cool person I actually turned out to be.
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