So he knew he was an alcoholic long before it killed him. I had always thought it was a secret.
I questioned her about it.
"If he knew, then why didn't he stop? Why didn't he get help?"
She defended him, "It was an addiction. He tried, I know he did try, he really did try... but he couldn't stop." So she knew too.
"But he knew! He should have got help!" I stopped myself from telling her she should have made him get help as well.
"No, Ophelia, you don't understand. It's an addiction... like a drug addict... they know what they are doing is harmful, but they can't stop. I know he did try."
So when I opened cupboard doors and found secret stashes of vodka, inconspicuous coke bottles filled with white liquid, cups of 'washing up water'...that was him trying was it? I was 10 years old. He had given up, he had accepted that alcohol ruled him; that he was an alcoholic. I think he accepted that it was going to kill him.
It's an addiction.
A terrible addiction that no logical thinking can overcome.
And suddenly I realised the sad truth.
I am just like my Dad.
I know my eating disorder has destroyed so many years, so many opportunities and so much happiness in my life, but I can't stop.
I may be killing myself, but I don't know how else to live.
But what am I addicted to?
... I'm not sure it's any of those things.
Sometimes, I get inspired, I have a moment of enlightenment and the world suddenly looks so beautiful, and I'm not going to have an eating disorder anymore, I'm going to be healthy and happy and this is it, I'm free I'm going to be a success!
And then I wake up the next morning and do the routine lift-up-the-t-shirt-to-examine-my-belly-in-the-mirror... and I know I have to have an eating disorder, because I don't know how else to cope with the horrible vision I see. I can't give it up, I need it, I'm addicted.
But here is the aching truth right now:
I want a training contract at a magic circle law firm.
I know, I'm a disillusioned perfectionist - but still a perfectionist - I want to be thin, painfully, perfectly thin, I want to be beautiful, without make-up, I want to work for the biggest and the best law firm in London. I want everything, a perfect everything and I simply do not know how to settle for less.
I cannot settle for less.
There are a number of things preventing me from getting what I want:
1. My grades at uni. Not good enough. Telling them you frequently spent weeks at a time locked away in your dark room throwing-up is not appreciated. I'm competing against the best students in the country.
Solution: Get a Distinction in my GDL (law conversion course) this year and do endless work experience and charity work.
2. Lack of confidence. It's not like I'm painfully shy, but I have BDD and an ED... erm I haven't held my head up high in 10 years. How am I going to pass an interview when I think everyone else is better than me and I can't stand people seeing how fat I am?
Solution: Stand up tall and stand out. Get a perfect body and get cheekbones and a defined jaw. Then I will love people looking at me and ooze confidence.
I want my collarbones, cheekbones and hip bones to be as sharp as my mind.
I want to be in complete control. People will look at me and know that I have the determination to do anything.
Winners do what losers don't want to do.
Let's get addicted to winning for a change :)
x x x