Mom and Food
Out they come
My worms
They’re here
Blame, obsession,
Self-hate and fear
It’s time to weed this wormwood
From my fruitful brain
(Midgard, from Fearless Moral Inventory, by Juliet A. Wright, copyright 2011, all rights reserved.)
Mom knew how to push my buttons, especially when it came to my weight and eating habits. When I was a teenager, she would often pick at me for being fat and then give me a big bowl of coffee ice-cream, urging me to devour it.
“Have another bowl of ice cream, Fats.”
It was hurtful and mean. She would complain repeatedly about my weight, my acne, my temper, my weakness, or some other defect of mine until I would wig out. She knew how to get to me. I felt like she really enjoyed this whole process, which made me sad.
During my whole life, she seemed to be obsessed with everything that I ate. I felt that she was watching me like a hawk. Yet she was the one pushing the food at me. I’m lucky I’m not schizophrenic.
One evening we went to the Los Altos Farmers Market and my sister’s boyfriend Zeb brought over a quesadilla for us all to try. I had just finished my potato, but wanted to try a bite. So I did.
“Juliet!” Mom snapped at me.
I felt my whole being sink into the depths of despair. I snapped back at her. Zeb said he thought I was misjudging the situation. So then I started shaming myself, not only for being fat and eating too much, but also for misjudging the situation and making my mother feel bad. Because, after all, I felt responsible for her feelings.
Wrong words fall
Like rain in summer
Sad eyes pierce my skin
My flower turns upon itself
Puts me in this fix I’m in
Nary is a petal left
Beauty destroyed by blame
In prison I have placed myself
Built with bricks of shame
Then I embrace my anguish
It fits me like a glove
(My Sinking Ship, from Fearless Moral Inventory, by Juliet A. Wright, copyright 2010, all rights reserved.)
The rest of the night I was in a severe codependent crazies shame spiral. I had completely sunk and couldn’t save myself.
Mom asked me, “What’s the matter with you?”
“Severe self-loathing,” I told her.
“So what do you do in that case, call your shrink?” she asked.
“I guess,” I muttered.
Somehow I got myself to give Zeb a guitar lesson. That helped get me through the night. Thanks Zeb.
Later my therapist would tell me that it was Mom’s problem; that she was obsessed with my food and I should have told her to back off.
I got picked on for eating too much. I got picked on for eating too little. I got picked on for being too fat. I got picked on for being too thin.
Why couldn’t she just love me for who I am?
Juliet’s Codependency Patterns Present In My Relationship With Mom and Food
Your moods and actions are my fault.
If you like me, I like me.
If you think I’m good, I think I’m good.
Your customs and thoughts are always right. I’m always wrong.
I am obsessed with making you happy, with saving you.
My fear of abandonment and fear of rejection determine how I behave.
I think I have to be perfect and so do you. Nothing less will do.
I am less than.
[1] Adapted from the Family of Origin packet materials provided by the Sequoia Recovery Center.
Juliet’s Feelings[1][RKQ1]
This is all my fault, I did something wrong.
They are right, I am wrong.
They are going to abandon me.
They are going to reject me.
I don’t deserve good things.
I am less than.
I am ashamed.
I’m bad and now everyone knows it. I’ll be alone forever.
Different from everyone
I’m not good enough to be here.
I am so grateful to be in recovery. Now I know that my weight and appearance don’t determine my worth. I also know that what other people think of me is none of my business. It is about them, not me. I can give their opinions back to them where they belong.
[1] Ibid.
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