Biggest Resentment of Them All

In group on Tuesday, there was a lady there that talked about pride. She said she didn't think she was prideful until she went and looked up the exact definition. Being the curious sort that I am, I decided to look it up too.

pride
noun \ˈprīd\
: a feeling that you respect yourself and deserve to be respected by other people
: a feeling that you are more important or better than other people
: a feeling of happiness that you get when you or someone you know does something good, difficult, etc.

After looking at that, I realized that, in regards to pride, I'm okay. I don't have any of those feelings. Then I got curious about resentment; you know, my topic of choice of late. Here's the definition of that:

re·sent·ment
noun \ri-ˈzent-mənt\
: a feeling of anger or displeasure about someone or something unfair

I know my big issue has been resentment and dealing with it. About a month ago, I'd not have believed you if you told me I was carrying around resentment. I am just not an angry person… or so I thought.

This is very disjointed, so I hope you'll bear with me and hopefully this will go somewhere. :) When I was younger, I had some kind of event in my life that caused me to start gaining weight. I always thought it was between 2nd and 3rd grade, so I'd have been 7-8 years old. Last night I went over to my parents' house to look through old pictures to see if we could narrow it down a bit. My school pictures were all lined up together and I was surprised! My weight gain appeared after 4th grade! My 4th grade picture I looked fine, then my 5th grade picture I looked fat. The only thing that happened was in February of 1989 my mom got a job. In April I'd have been 10.

As we talked about this, she said that she just hadn't been home to monitor what we ate, but I think it was more. I think maybe that started me eating, having no one to tell me no, but it was after that that the comments about my weight started and I think the summer of 1989 cinched it for me. I think that was the year I let resentment get the better of me. It was that summer that Grandma told me to come stay with her because SHE could get the weight off me. It was the summer that my uncle told me my fat body was in the way. It was the summer my sister told me for every Dorito I ate, I had to lose one pound. It was the summer my mom put exercise on my chore list. It was the summer my best friend moved away to live with her dad. It was the summer I stopped being important for who I was and my fat became the only thing people could see.

I'd stored up a lot of resentment from that year… and I think I put it all at my mom's feet for not being there to take care of me. I didn't even know this stuff 24 hours ago, so it's not like I've been conscience of purposefully holding onto this stuff. I do know though, through conversations with my mom, that after that I started giving her what she called, "Love Tests." I started doing things to see if she really loved me or not. The thing I'm wondering now is, did I test her even if she "passed" the last one? Or did I only test her when she "failed" the last one? I can't see testing someone for 20+ years if she'd passed each and every test… so does that mean she failed all of them?

I remember one test when I was 18. I was working at a local Arby's restaurant and my house was quite literally across the street. I had hard contacts at the time and they were really making it difficult for me to work, there was something wrong with them and I just could not see. I remember calling home to see if my mom could come across the street with my contact stuff so I could take them out and wear my glasses the rest of the night. I remember her being a bit exasperated with me and telling me that no, she couldn't do that. I asked her what I was supposed to do and she told me to try putting drops of water in my eyes. After we hung up, I remember going into the bathroom and trying the water thing, which just made them sting so much worse and I basically cried the rest of the night because tears would not stop running down my face… but they weren't sad tears. By that time, I'd mastered the art of being numb.

I think I remember this night so well because a co-worker of mine had called his mother for something and even though they lived 15 minutes from work, she dropped everything and came to help him. I do remember feeling devastated. It killed me that I wasn't important to her at all. Granted I never tried to find out why she couldn't come, maybe she had plans or maybe she just wanted to relax after work. Either way, I think that was the beginning of the end for us.

A year later my mom and dad sat down with me because I owed them some money and apparently I wasn't being as responsible as they wanted me to be. I know I was paying them, so I don't remember what brought this on. I just remember them saying they were going to sign me up for the army. I must of have said something in a parting remark that my dad didn't like because before I'd made it outside, I was shoved up against the wall and my head slammed back against the wall repeatedly while my dad made his point, which I don't remember. I do remember my mom just standing back and watching my dad doing this to me, then when he was done, she said, "You have made me lose all the love I ever had for you." I think after that point… well, I'd always thought I was worthless and unlovable and what not, but I think part of me hoped that I was worth something to my mom, hence all the tests. This sealed it though. After this I started down my road of bad choices. I picked people that I knew would hurt me as a kind of constant reminder that I wasn't worth anything anyway.

I wonder sometimes how my mom feels deep down. Now, we get along great, we talk and share and spend time together. If I'm being honest though, I think I have a pretty heavy guard up. How could she possibly like who I am now if it took who I was to become who I am? Once in a while I find myself throwing little tests at my mom, not so much now, but within the last couple of years. She's passed them. I don't think I've given her any tests in quite a while, actually… but I've never really let anyone in all the way. I don't even think I've let my husband in.

Wow, what an interesting turn this has taken. After writing all that down though, I feel quite at peace. I'm not sure where to go from here, how to progress, or how to heal, but at least I've admitted to it. And as we all know, admitting we have a problem is the first step to healing. :)

B