Well….a-hole, you are out of my life

Last night I got into this horrible argument with my brother Ned.  And then I did this profoundly liberating thing that has jump-started me like you would not believe: I cut him out of my life.

Now I didn’t expect that I’d do that.  No way.  I didn’t have it planned out that way.  I didn’t do it in a fit of anger or anything like that.  It was the logical thing to do, that’s all, following this horrible argument.

It was a matter of a click of the mouse, you see.  I have Google Voice, so it was easy.  Or not so easy due to a glitch in GV.   But I went over to the forums figured out how to get it done.  Now, when Ned calls, he is automatically sent to voicemail.  No, not spammed, just sent to voicemail.

I suppose if he keeps calling and continues to get voicemail, he’ll conclude that I’m hospitalized.  I guess at that point I’ll e-mail him and tell him I’m not.  And a few other things.

I am tired of being told I am not real writer because I do not submit my writings to The New Yorker.  I am tired of being told I am wrong no matter what I say.  I am tired of being told that no matter what I do, it’s not good enough.  He’s an asshole.  I’m glad I’m not his kid and I’m glad I’m not his student and I’m glad I’m not his wife and I’m glad I’m not his friend.

I liked it that he called now and then.  That was nice of him.  But only to put me down again and again.  He never once read This Hunger Is Secret.  He only looked at the cover and commented on it.  He never bought a copy or the e-book or paperback and when he came here and looked at a copy of the paperback he did not open it and read anything inside.  Isn’t that weird?  Like he only cared about the cosmetics of the book.  Then he shoved it back at me, uninterested.

Well, asshole, you are out of my life.

I didn’t feel really terrific until this morning.  I woke up and then suddenly it felt like my body was breathing a gigantic sigh of relief.  Like suddenly, there was this letting go, a release of something that had been pent-up.  It felt incredible.

(As we speak, there is huge shouting and arguing in my hallway.  Typical day here.)

I have not binged since Saturday.  I don’t know why or how I have managed to stop but I am grateful for it.  Well, I do have ideas.  There are things I have done.  I will talk about some of the things in another entry.  But one of the things is letting him go.

Getting rid of people, activities, and substances that are no good for you is essential.

I started writing a blog entry about this but I had a huge technical problem in my apartment and got interrupted with my entry, lost track of what I was saying, and so I aborted the entry.  What happened was that my toilet got a leak in the back of it and I had to call the maintenance guy over here.  My bathroom floor is all soggy.

What I was saying was this:

If a person, activity, or substance causes you to binge, cut it out of your life if possible.

I don’t really have an overeating problem.  I go on full binges. There is a marked difference, and I have a hard time relating to people who overeat and do not have a binge eating problem.

Do you want to know what this means?  Binge eating, for me, is not anything like casual eating or “nibbling.”  It is never done with a partner (I saw a You-Tube where someone who was bulimic talked about binge eating with a friend).  Sometimes, depending on how soft or crunchy the food is, I shove it into me and and barely chew it.  Huge chunks get swallowed whole.  It’s extremely disgusting.  I’ve seen my own dog do this.

Anyway, I have not done any of that since Saturday.  I am grateful.  Today I feel wicked decent.

Guess what?  I am even wearing jeans, not those pajama bottoms I wore for days on end.  It’s a good thing I didn’t feel too self-conscious about my weight and dared to have that maintenance guy in here, because if the toilet had leaked last week, I would have been scared to have anyone in here.  The tank was leaking, not the toilet bowl itself, so no, not that gross, but the floor would have been like a wicked bad swamp.

My cell phone broke Monday night, my good one, but it’s one I was using less often than the free “Welfare” one.  I decided that compared to all the other shit in my life, it’s not that big a deal.   The warranty expired ages ago.  It’s not one of those contract phones.  I’m a cheap-o.  I got another off of ebay for $30 last night.  I did this fun Internet shopping to distract myself from my pissed-off thoughts about my brother.

It was a really healthy way to cope with the issue.  Now I’m going to have a new phone.  I mean, I could have thrown the broken phone across the room.  That would have been just plain dumb, and would have accomplished nothing.   Ripping up a phone book would have done nothing but make a mess and destroy a phone book, and holding onto a frozen orange would have done nothing but waste an orange and make my hands extremely uncomfortable, and oranges are expensive.  I did some intelligent comparison shopping, read the reviews carefully, and made a decision.

Well, asshole, you are out of my life.

 

4 thoughts on “Well….a-hole, you are out of my life”

  1. I did that too, a long time ago. I had ended an abusive relationship, and people, my own family, were getting on my case about it. Former “friends” ragged on me for leaving the schmuck. My family ragged on me for dating him in the first place, telling me I had “low self esteem.” (which I didn’t by the way. 🙂 I was arrogant enuf to think I could change him.) So I basically cut everyone out who hurt me, and it took time, but I finally, that year discovered people who honestly care about me, and understand what I went thru. Toxic people…. get rid of them, and like rain water, good people will fill the void that is there.

    1. Oh Aiona, thanks for sharing. I agree that it’s really important to remember that people do fill the void. When you get rid of abusers, it’s so hard at first, because of the way some abusers work.

      I mean, in the case of, say, a partner, the partner has you in this pattern. They are the one and only. Same with an abusive therapist, the Savior. In the case of a partner, maybe the partner is the Savior, or you are the Savior, or you are both the Savior and really, it can’t be that way. There has to be a certain degree of autonomy.

      I was thinking so much about this the other day. How so very alone I was when I dumped my T, M (whose name I do not reveal so that I don’t get into any legal hassles). I was completely isolated for a couple of months and literally had very few human conversations. No phone conversations, nothing. I did not go to church or speak to anyone in my hallway. The only human interchanges I had were an occasional brief hello at a cash register, and I believe the total number of human conversations for that month of April came to four…one I had to pay for, my psychiatrist appointment that I faked my way through for fear of being hospitalized. And three others…and that was it.

      See, I had no support around it. Nobody believed me that this M could possibly be abusive. But now, lots of people are starting to believe me. I stick with the ones that believe me when I speak with them and don’t dismiss me as “delusional.” I have spoken in my blog about the nightmare I experienced as an inpatient at the “eating disorders program” at Mass General. So few people believed me about what went on there and so few believed that this “inner unit” even existed. Even former patients denied the existence of this “inner unit.” But I stick with those that do believe me, because I’m sure unless there’s been a construction job over there since the summer of 2011, if you can find a floor plan of Blake Eleven, you will find this “inner unit” for the hard core patients, where they incarcerate and isolate the eating disorders patients and treat them like caged animals. When I got out, M did not believe me and there were many “friends” who believed I was lying or exaggerating…these folks, interestingly enough, are no longer my friends.

      You make a good point about “low self esteem,” too. I think a lot of the time, when a people think you might be a teensy bit vulnerable (say, when you have just ended a relationship and might be a little sensitive) they try to hit you in the gut with that one. They will try to find some soft spot wherever they can find a place to slam in the knife, and give it a good hard twist, because of their own low self esteem. Someone just recently did that to me…another toxic person that I refuse to ever be around again.

      You know, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive…and thrive in this life.

      I am doing fairly well and will have an update coming soon. You take care of yourself.

      Julie

      1. Julie,
        You made such an important point there. It’s so important to have someone believe you. When everyone is doubting what you say, or didn’t witness what you went through, or both, it really can make one doubt one’s sanity. One has to believe in oneself, if no one else believes in you. And sometimes that’s so hard. So, yeah, I went through a long period of “alone.” I remember thinking at one time, if it weren’t for the cashier… like you, I wouldn’t have talked to anyone. And even then, it was around the time they installed those “Self-Checkout Lines.” 🙂 I didn’t use those mostly because they frustrate the *bleep* out of me, as they never work right when I use them. But anyway, I digressed. It’s so important to have people who believe in you, even if the only person is oneself. And it was just myself for many many months. That there really was the key to my survival.
        Aiona

        1. Hi again Aiona, it has taken me forever to get your comment to post…sorry…and to get this reply to post…..

          I think you need to stick with the people that believe in you. Like the people know there is value in you as a person, and aren’t just using you for your car or for your money or for a place to crash or if you are sucker enough to buy them drinks. Or isn’t hanging around just because they want to make a baby with you. Babies are real people, they aren’t toys.

          But when the people I thought were friends started saying I was lying about the stuff I witnessed at the “treatment” places I was at, all the horrors that went on there…and my own therapist doubted every word I said…I knew I had to take off on my own. This was last spring and it was a very, very scary time for me. Still is. I’d say I trust my dog and that’s it, cuz humans turn on you. A couple of humans have popped out of the woodwork, but I am waiting for them to turn on me.

Feedback and comments welcome!