Baking and cooking in general comes easy to me. Might be the italian blood curling through my veins might be my love to surround myself with nice people and be social might be that I’m just good at it. Either way I love cooking and I mourn the fact that I lost so much of this love during the course of the last two years. But slowly and steadily I am fighting my way back to this love. And I won’t lie to you it feels fucking amazing.
Yesterday I baked cookies with my little little sister A.. We might be a little late for christmas baking but what the fuck we had fun. We made Snickers Cookies partly to give them as a christmas present to my big little sisters boyfriend partly just for us. And boy did we have waaaaaaay to much dough. We made 99 cookies and would have made 100 if I hadn’t snacked on the dough in between :) It took us 3 1/2 hours to get everything done but we used the downtime during the actual baking process to catch up which we sadly don’t do often enough. With me in Mainz and her here in Cologne it’s hard to have a steady relationship. I’m so much in my own head most of the time that I tune out other peoples trepidations or worse just don’t have the power to care.
So I’ve known for a while that she has as my family describes it trouble with eating. You can see it too. She is skinny to the point of bony. Whenever I hug her I can feel her vertebrae and I’d want to I could surely count her ribs. Seeing as her part of the family is all around way skinny I didn’t gave much thought to this. I figured her troubles as some kind of phase. But not anymore.
She asked me many questions about the bulimia, about my feelings and thoughts and about the way it all works. Slowly she opened up and told me about the way she handles food. That it’s a way to exercise controle when she’s not eating. She told me about the thoughts she’s dealing with, how much validation she gets when she’s perceived as thin and that she it sometimes is the only way to feel good about herself. She talked about clothes and that she sometimes needs to wear her boots everywhere just to feel grounded and centered.
In a way she told me she was anorexic. Not in those words, mind you, she is in no way that far in her self-perception, but what she told me was unmistakeable. Of course this revelation made me sad I don’t want to wish this kind of problems for anyone. But in the end it made me also a little bit happy because she felt able to share it with me and because now I have the chance to help her and try to get a proactive before everything goes as far as it has gone with me.
One of her problems is the fact, that her mother suffers from a severe bout of depression and is in no way able to handle it. With my sister being the way she is she always tries to help her mother. Whenever she’s in a rough spell she tries to reassure her that she’s not alone and that everything is going to be better. And when her mother then turns to her go to problem-solver alcohol and just drowns herself my sister gets severely disappointed because she feels so utterly helpless and redundant. She has nobody to talk to non of her friends is even aware about her mothers depression and talking to our father is difficult even at the best of times. She is alone with her mothers problems and handles them the only way she can, not eating.
I am gonna talk to her mother as well as our father about getting my sis some therapeutic help. I just hope I can convey the severity of the situation and how much needed this help is. Might be it’s a wake-up call for her mother too.
From now on I’m gonna be an advocate for my sisters well-being. I won’t have her life her live the way I lived mine. I won’t have her suffer the way I’m suffering.