Messages from the Editor: Eating Disorders – Conditional Publications

Understanding DOESN’T Mean Accepting Abuse

Vrinda Pendred — Wed, 13 May 2015 16:10:56 +0000

Editor and Founder Vrinda Pendred discusses when we should show patience and understanding – and when enough is enough.

Friends and long-time readers will know I’m an advocate of learning and understanding, when it comes to neurological conditions. Those closer to me will also know my strong anti-abuse stance, and I’d like to take a moment to explain how I think this fits in with having patience and an open mind.

I grew up with an abusive father. He was very violent toward my mother, both in word and deed, and when I was ‘old enough’ he edged dangerously close to moving on to me. When I became a mother myself, I took the view that he wasn’t going to change, no matter how much I tried to help him, and I couldn’t have the poison in my son’s life. It has now been five years since I last spoke to my father.

My father has the sort of old-school pride that won’t allow him to see a psychologist, so he’s never been diagnosed with anything. But I’d put money on him being autistic, with OCD and borderline personality disorder. My own diagnoses and experience leave me wishing there were something I could do for him. ‘He almost can’t help it,’ I used to tell myself. ‘He finds emotions challenging. Be patient; he’s lost inside himself. You can see how unhappy he really is. He regrets the past, deep down, but is too scared to face up to all he’s done. He was abandoned and abused by his own parents. He just needs someone to love him unconditionally, like his parents never did.’ And so on.

I still think all of that’s true – except for one thing: he can help it. How? By seeing a doctor.

It sounds trite, but you can’t help someone who isn’t willing to help themselves. I recall a time when I was talking about my OCD and my father asked, ‘Where did all this come from?’

‘It’s genetic,’ I told him. ‘I got it from you and Mum.’

‘What are you talking about? You didn’t get it from me.’

I was incredulous. ‘Are you kidding? When I was growing up, you would sit down for breakfast, notice a fingerprint on the glass coffee table in the next room, and have to clean ALL THE GLASS IN THE HOUSE before you would eat with us.’

‘I – ‘

‘AND,’ I interrupted, ‘every time you came home from work, the first thing you’d do was go around the house fixing things. My best friend and I once deliberately ruffled the curtain a little, left a cupboard door open an inch, that sort of thing. You noticed everything within a minute. We timed you.’

‘Vrinda – ‘

‘And what about the time when I was nine years old and was so excited that my friend had loaned me her roller skates, I wore them all over the house. When I say on the sofa, I rested my feet on the coffee table and the wheels of the skates made the tiniest little scratch on the wood of the table. You went nuts. You screamed at me in my face and said we’d have to sell the TV to pay for a new coffee table. I was so scared. In the end, you found wood filler and fixed the scratch, but I never wore roller skates again. I was terrified.’

Even after listening to all this, my father grew stern and said firmly, ‘Vrinda, I do NOT have OCD.’

I tried a different tactic. ‘Do you realise that as I’m a girl, in order for me to have Tourette’s Syndrome, I have to have inherited the genes from BOTH of my parents?’ Silence. ‘That means you HAVE to have SOMETHING. Feel free to look it up in clinical psychiatry books.’

When he didn’t respond, I asked, ‘Why are you so afraid of admitting it, anyway? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? It means that despite all your usually supportive words about my medical problems, you secretly feel these things are something to be ashamed of.’

He had no response for that – but he didn’t deny feeling that way, either, and he never saw a doctor, not for the OCD and certainly not for the more dangerous problems he suffers from that made my childhood a living nightmare. Naturally, this meant he never changed – so I changed. I stopped putting up with it and walked away.

I’ve had to walk away from a number of people, over the years, out of self-preservation. The number of birthday cards I get has diminished, but I’m much happier for it.

We can’t allow ourselves to get dragged down with people who are willing to let themselves fall apart. This was one of the main themes of my novel The Ladder. Something I think my father will never understand is that I still love him; I always will. And I pity him, because he is ultimately a prisoner of his own ego. But that doesn’t mean I have to keep him in my life, if his presence is destructive to me and my family.

It’s important to remember that no matter how much you love someone, you are not their therapist. If you are being mistreated, get out. It doesn’t matter if the abuser ‘can’t help it’. Point them in the direction of therapy and distance yourself until they’re better – if that ever happens. We should all try to exercise understanding for these people who may be in our lives, but we can understand and pity from a distance. Patience should be reserved for those who are really trying, and who really are getting better all the time – for those who want to get better.

I hope you all have (or can find your way to having) the healthy relationships you deserve. And if you found this article helpful, be sure to subscribe to our blog for more insights, as well as personal stories from our readers.

Vrinda Pendred is the Editor and Founder of Conditional Publications. Additionally, she does freelance editing and proofreading and provides private English tuition. She is also a writer, and you can learn more about her personal work here.

Vrinda has been diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, ADHD, Autism and Bipolar Disorder. Her ambition is to help others with such conditions find their voice through creative writing, and spread awareness to the general public.

Be sure to read her contributions to Conditional Publications’ debut release Check Mates: A Collection of Fiction, Poetry and Artwork about Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, by People with OCD.

Suicide Awareness Week: A Message from Jennifer Scinto

Vrinda Pendred — Tue, 09 Sep 2014 19:22:15 +0000

Sometimes openness is necessary to promote awareness and hope for others. Sometimes your journey is meant not to be hidden and kept secret out of fear of judgement, but instead be shared. I admit it’s uncomfortable and a bit frightening, but I have a great passion for erasing the stigma that surrounds mental illness and suicide, and I am not ashamed of my journey. If judgement arises, I am confident enough to know it is ignorance or lack of knowledge and understanding that on another’s part, and not me. My journey is not one I wish to remain silent about because of the stigma, but one I wish to share throughout my lifetime in hopes that it may inspire and bring hope to other sufferers similar to myself.

With that being said, today marks the start of National Suicide Prevention week. On the way home from class tonight, I was flooded with images and thoughts about my journey thus far and what I wanted to convey. I am eternally grateful for all the people in my life, even those no longer part of my journey, who have been by my side during the lowest times. For the times they have talked and listened to me, and the times no words were necessary – just the act of being there was enough. I am thankful for the countless times they have held the hope for me when I had so little of my own. I am thankful for the times they have literally saved me from succumbing to my illness. I am thankful for the tools they have given me, the love (albeit sometimes tough love), and the few who have never left my side or given up on me. Not only have you saved me throughout the years, but you empowered me to want to save myself, which is huge.

The journey continues, and with that, the struggle continues; the struggle to find hope in perhaps even the smallest things…a laugh, kind word, hug, song…something that will sustain me until I have the strength to get up and continue on. As far as I have to go, I am happy and proud of myself for how far I have come. It’s been a long, vastly painful journey, but what I have learned from the pain is priceless. It has moulded me into the person I am, the person I am coming to love more and more. There’s a reason we’re all here, and I am determined to keep fighting and hoping so I can find my purpose.

So with that, I want to thank those who have shared in my journey and will continue to share in it. You all are the biggest blessings I have. In a world of immense pain, you have helped me see there is also immense joy and hope. Thank you.

I challenge those of you who see suicide as a mere selfish act to really reach out and get to know someone with mental illness. You will soon realize there is more behind the stigma that is so pervasive in our society. There is great pain, but also a yearning for hope, understanding, and acceptance. Reach out and be the face of hope to someone who might be thinking of ending their life.

Just listen. Don’t judge.

Jennifer Scinto, Conditional Publications

Contributor to Check Mates: A Collection of Fiction, Poetry and Artwork about Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, by People with OCD

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The Importance of Asking for Help

Vrinda Pendred — Thu, 04 Sep 2014 06:22:06 +0000

Recently, a ‘Check Mate’ of mine sent a bunch of us a group message saying they were struggling to cope on their own and needed help. Around the same time, another friend made a public announcement that he had lost a loved one. Dozens of people flocked to show support. Some of us (like me!) haven’t even met him, but we care just the same, through the friendships we have formed online.

The key here is that while our support won’t help my friend grieve, or fix my other friend’s circumstances, neither of them is alone. They both have an outlet to release their difficult emotions.

So many of us – myself included – are afraid to reach out when we most need to. I was discussing this in that group message and we all agreed a lot of it comes down to fear of rejection. We worry we’re a burden on others, or that people will tire of our problems, or simply not care, and our feelings will be invalidated. We find it ‘easier’ to go it alone.

Message to self: this is STUPID.

It has never been easier to do anything alone. On the contrary, it’s stressful and overwhelming. And no one EXPECTS you to do it.

There’s a term in the world of investments that applies here: ‘diversification’. It refers to the art of investing in many different areas, each uncorrelated to one another, so if one area does poorly, the others will hopefully pick up the slack and you won’t lose all your money. The point? It’s a well-proven fact that putting all your eggs in one basket is a RISK.

None of us knows everything or is the best at everything. That’s the beauty of the world. There are so many varieties of people and lifestyles out there. They’re meant to complement one another. When you start a company, you don’t do it all on your own; you have a team, each member with different strengths to balance out each other’s weaknesses. I’m sure all of us would agree with this principle.

So why don’t we apply it to our lives?

We’re constantly told to be strong. When people ask how we are, we’re expected to say we’re ‘fine’ even when we’re not. If we’re unhappy, we’re meant to take some pills and shut up. But hiding your struggles / suppressing your sorrows until it’s too late is NOT strength. Admitting you find something hard takes courage, and being vulnerable with someone is a form of bravery. Swallowing your pride and fears and asking for help when you need it is one of the strongest things you can do.

I challenge you (and myself!) – instead of waiting until you collapse to ask for support, ask for it when you’re going through little challenges. The smaller the challenge, the simpler the support request. It doesn’t need to be drama all the time; regularly talking about the little things is just making conversation. Get people’s insight right away, when the problems are still tiny – before you feel like things are spiralling out of control. It will actually be less of a weight on your friends’ shoulders that way, too