on one condition...

Today in my psych seminar we were discussing applying animal training techniques on people. Seems a little strange and manipulative, right? Not really, if you consider that raising a child is essentially the same thing. Rewarding and punishing behaviours is the basis of child-rearing. Anyways, we got to talking about conditional and unconditional love of children, and the pros and cons of each. For the most part, we all agreed that unconditional love can create a child without a structured lifestyle and goals, but at the same time conditional love is really stressful for a child, and failure becomes something to fear.

I used to think that my parents love me unconditionally, but after today I realize that it is definitely a conditional love situation. They only show me affection when I do something that they approve of, or feel is appropriate - like getting good marks or being thin. My mom, especially. She is living vicariously through me. She is far from thin, (apparently she used to be, but I have never seen proof), but she calls me fat or says there is "a lot of me lately". Whenever I eat, she judges me. She is constantly asking me what I am eating. (I doubt that she wants the recipe, I mean, seriously! What does it matter to her whether I am eating a grape or a bowl of oatmeal? How is it any of her damn business? Do I ever ask her what she is eating? Of course not!)

Basically, I have been trained to believe that thin is best; thin = happiness, approval, support, and my parents' love. But I don't want my parent's love! Not any more, now that I realize they only love me if I am asocial and self-hating, because that is exactly what they have reduced me to!

This doesn't change anything, though. I still want to be thin. I am still going to be thin! I am going to continue to resent my parents - just now I understand why I do a little better.

Today's intake was okay, I guess.

Breakfast: 1 cup pineapple, 10 grapes
Lunch: 1 cup spinach salad
Dinner: 1 cup pasta salad, 1 cornmeal muffin, 1 orange

Oh yeah. Tonight at dinner I watched my mom eat. Full plate of food, (pasta salad, potatoes, pork schnitzel), then she went back for more potatoes, then ate an onion bun, and cake. It was revolting and depressing at the same time. Is that what I look like when I stop caring? Note to self: don't give up.