July 31, 2025 • 9 mins
Episode 19
Healing from My Father Wounds..
Eating Disorders..
Therapy..
Thank You for Listening..
I would Absolutely Love To Hear From You..
Email.... sleeplessingranada@yahoo.com
Anonymity guaranteed..
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Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
SPEAKER_00 (00:00):
Hello and a huge big Scottish welcome.
Sleepless in Grenada episode 19.
It's another hot one today.
I woke up early and took thedogs down to the river.
It's so still and tranquil earlymorning.
The only sound is the distanttinkle of goat bells further up
the mountain and the fresh icycold water as it continues to
(00:23):
cascade down from the SierraNevada.
The river runs faster in thesummer due to the snow melt.
Isn't that incredible?
My dad has been on my mind alot.
We were estranged for many, manyyears and mum told me on a
regular basis to make up withhim.
You'll regret it one day if youdon't, she said.
(00:44):
Her words always fell in my deafears.
He wasn't a good father, nor washe a good husband.
I forgave him for that.
over 30 years ago when theletter I had written for him
went unread.
It was still sitting on top ofmy fireplace when we got the
horrific news that he had beenmurdered.
(01:05):
He was only 56 years old.
I placed that letter in hiscoffin.
In the letter I poured out allthe hurt, the feelings of
neglect and abandonment that hehad dealt me over the years.
I told him in the letter that hewas a prick and an arsehole but
that he was my arsehole dad andthat I loved him and forgave
(01:25):
him.
Mum had been right all theseyears and I did regret it.
My happy life spiralled out ofcontrol.
I couldn't cope with life.
At that time I was very happilymarried and had two beautiful
young children.
It was as if someone had turnedthe light off in my world.
Instead of sunshine and rainbowsit was now darkness and mud.
(01:46):
These were my normal.
I felt I had lost control of allreality.
I had no control over anything.
My husband and my family were sovery worried about me.
You see, I developed an eatingdisorder.
In my poor, broken mind, thiswas the only thing I could
control.
And that was what I put in mymouth.
(02:08):
When I look back at photographsof myself back then, I looked
like a lollipop.
My head looked huge incomparison to my tiny, starving,
skeletal body.
but I didn't see any of this atthe time.
I thought I looked just fine.
In despair, my husband made anappointment for me to see the
doctor, but instead of tellingthe truth, I told the doctor I
(02:30):
was an alcoholic.
I've never been much of adrinker, and I knew the doctor
didn't believe me.
She did all sorts of bloodtests, and when she called me
back into her office two weekslater, this time I confessed I
had an eating disorder.
I knew the blood works wouldconfirm that I had no alcohol in
my system and it was game over.
(02:50):
She was confused that I had liedto her.
I can still see the furrowedbrow as she questioned me.
I broke down.
I told her I felt so ashamed ofmyself for having an eating
disorder and I thought that bysaying I was an alcoholic was
much more acceptable.
I told her the full story aboutmy dad and she was absolutely
amazing.
(03:11):
She referred me to a team whodealt with eating disorders and
twice a week I had appointmentswith therapists, counsellors and
psych doctors for over a year.
They became so concerned aboutme because I would just sit
there during the sessions barelyuttering a word, eyes fixed on
the ground and never, nevermaking eye contact.
(03:32):
I rarely completed my homework.
All the exercise assignmentsremained blank.
They were becoming increasinglyworried about my mental health.
I was comfortably numb, you see,and still defiant.
This particular afternoon was adifferent session altogether.
My favourite therapist, we'llcall her S, sat in front of me.
(03:55):
She gently lifted my chin up.
I always spent the sessionstaring at the floor.
She said, I need you to workwith me.
Say you agree.
I nodded my head.
S told me, now close your eyes.
You're a little girl.
What age are you?
I told her, I'm five.
(04:15):
She then asked me to describewhat I'm wearing.
I told her, my red plasticraincoat, matching hat, and my
Wellington boots.
She then asked me, who's withyou?
I told her, I'm with my mummy.
She then asked, what's your mumwearing?
I said, she's wearing her lovelylilac coat and she has a scarf
(04:35):
around her head because it'sraining.
She then asked me to describewhat I was feeling.
I said, I'm so happy I have mumall to myself today and mum's
promised to buy me a comic.
This went on and on and on.
S now said to me, do you thinkthat the beautiful, happy little
you that you've just described,do you think she deserves to be
(04:58):
in such agonising pain?
I felt a solitary tear escape.
I opened my eyes and I screamed.
I lifted a chair that wasopposite me and I threw it full
force across the room as Ishouted, if this is fucking
therapy, you can stick it upyour fucking hole.
Just at that moment, two of theother therapists came into the
(05:21):
room.
They were all clapping andcheering, well done, well done.
I headed for the door.
They continued to clap theirhands.
See you next week.
They cried out in unison, fuckoff, fuck off.
I have to add here forclarification, I'm not a violent
human, not at all.
The opposite, in fact.
My throwing that chair was thestart of my healing.
(05:43):
All my inner child trauma that Ihad suppressed my entire life.
And yes, I did return the nextweek and the next week after.
It was painful and verydifficult, but I started healing
when I was ready.
And six months later, I wasdischarged.
And I had bi-annual and annualvisits after that.
But I was completely cured.
(06:04):
I learned what my triggers wereand stopped eating my emotions.
I'm a complete foodie, you know,I've always loved food.
But in my broken state of mind,it was the best way to punish
myself.
So many of us self-soothe withlove, alcohol, gambling, drugs,
work, sex, etc., I've enjoyed afantastic relationship with food
(06:27):
for over 20 years now.
Everything I speak about in mypodcast is from my point of view
and my learned livedexperiences.
And I'm no way, any shape orform an expert.
A woman who had an emotionallyabsent father, who she couldn't
really connect to, who didn'tseem at all interested in her,
(06:50):
who showed her no love oraffection, is much more likely
to develop hyper-independence.
And she won't be emotionallydependent on people because it
doesn't feel safe to trust them.
She may end up in relationshipswith men who are emotionally
unavailable to her, who areunable to show up as this
reminds her of her father.
(07:10):
Unconsciously, she has thisfantasy.
that if she can fix this man,she'll be fixing her father.
And finally, finally, a man willlove her and care for her and
show up for her in the way thatshe needs.
It's then so very difficult towalk away from the wrong person,
to ignore all the red flags,because subconsciously, this
(07:33):
would mean giving up on thefantasy of fixing her father.
And it would trigger all thosefeelings of being abandoned by
her dad once more.
I learned to get in touch withmy anger.
I learned to get in touch withmy pain and my grief.
I sat with my feelings ofdisappointment.
It's agonizing, but with help,you too can heal and begin to
(07:56):
live your life, really live it.
And now a poem.
It's an incredible poem byNikita Gill.
In another universe, I met myfather when he was a child.
We play catch in the woods andas we play he tells me he was
never allowed to cry and thatsometimes the world hurts him
(08:16):
but he doesn't know what to dowith all that pain.
So I give him the shoulder heneeds to cry on and he does
until the tears are done.
Afterwards I buy him ice creamand listen to his laugh, the
glowing warm laugh of a childwho knows he is safe.
I wish someone could have donethat for him.
Been a kind, safe place for thechild he used to be.
(08:40):
Would it have made a difference?
Would it have made a difference?
Oh, that hit me right in thesolar plexus.
This was a sore episode.
Thank you for listening.
I would absolutely love to hearfrom you.
Email me, sleeplessingranada atyahoo.com.
Next episode to follow soon.
Hello and a huge big Scottish welcome.
Sleepless in Grenada episode 19.
It's another hot one today.
I woke up early and took thedogs down to the river.
It's so still and tranquil earlymorning.
The only sound is the distanttinkle of goat bells further up
the mountain and the fresh icycold water as it continues to
(00:23):
cascade down from the SierraNevada.
The river runs faster in thesummer due to the snow melt.
Isn't that incredible?
My dad has been on my mind alot.
We were estranged for many, manyyears and mum told me on a
regular basis to make up withhim.
You'll regret it one day if youdon't, she said.
(00:44):
Her words always fell in my deafears.
He wasn't a good father, nor washe a good husband.
I forgave him for that.
over 30 years ago when theletter I had written for him
went unread.
It was still sitting on top ofmy fireplace when we got the
horrific news that he had beenmurdered.
(01:05):
He was only 56 years old.
I placed that letter in hiscoffin.
In the letter I poured out allthe hurt, the feelings of
neglect and abandonment that hehad dealt me over the years.
I told him in the letter that hewas a prick and an arsehole but
that he was my arsehole dad andthat I loved him and forgave
(01:25):
him.
Mum had been right all theseyears and I did regret it.
My happy life spiralled out ofcontrol.
I couldn't cope with life.
At that time I was very happilymarried and had two beautiful
young children.
It was as if someone had turnedthe light off in my world.
Instead of sunshine and rainbowsit was now darkness and mud.
(01:46):
These were my normal.
I felt I had lost control of allreality.
I had no control over anything.
My husband and my family were sovery worried about me.
You see, I developed an eatingdisorder.
In my poor, broken mind, thiswas the only thing I could
control.
And that was what I put in mymouth.
(02:08):
When I look back at photographsof myself back then, I looked
like a lollipop.
My head looked huge incomparison to my tiny, starving,
skeletal body.
but I didn't see any of this atthe time.
I thought I looked just fine.
In despair, my husband made anappointment for me to see the
doctor, but instead of tellingthe truth, I told the doctor I
(02:30):
was an alcoholic.
I've never been much of adrinker, and I knew the doctor
didn't believe me.
She did all sorts of bloodtests, and when she called me
back into her office two weekslater, this time I confessed I
had an eating disorder.
I knew the blood works wouldconfirm that I had no alcohol in
my system and it was game over.
(02:50):
She was confused that I had liedto her.
I can still see the furrowedbrow as she questioned me.
I broke down.
I told her I felt so ashamed ofmyself for having an eating
disorder and I thought that bysaying I was an alcoholic was
much more acceptable.
I told her the full story aboutmy dad and she was absolutely
amazing.
(03:11):
She referred me to a team whodealt with eating disorders and
twice a week I had appointmentswith therapists, counsellors and
psych doctors for over a year.
They became so concerned aboutme because I would just sit
there during the sessions barelyuttering a word, eyes fixed on
the ground and never, nevermaking eye contact.
(03:32):
I rarely completed my homework.
All the exercise assignmentsremained blank.
They were becoming increasinglyworried about my mental health.
I was comfortably numb, you see,and still defiant.
This particular afternoon was adifferent session altogether.
My favourite therapist, we'llcall her S, sat in front of me.
(03:55):
She gently lifted my chin up.
I always spent the sessionstaring at the floor.
She said, I need you to workwith me.
Say you agree.
I nodded my head.
S told me, now close your eyes.
You're a little girl.
What age are you?
I told her, I'm five.
(04:15):
She then asked me to describewhat I'm wearing.
I told her, my red plasticraincoat, matching hat, and my
Wellington boots.
She then asked me, who's withyou?
I told her, I'm with my mummy.
She then asked, what's your mumwearing?
I said, she's wearing her lovelylilac coat and she has a scarf
(04:35):
around her head because it'sraining.
She then asked me to describewhat I was feeling.
I said, I'm so happy I have mumall to myself today and mum's
promised to buy me a comic.
This went on and on and on.
S now said to me, do you thinkthat the beautiful, happy little
you that you've just described,do you think she deserves to be
(04:58):
in such agonising pain?
I felt a solitary tear escape.
I opened my eyes and I screamed.
I lifted a chair that wasopposite me and I threw it full
force across the room as Ishouted, if this is fucking
therapy, you can stick it upyour fucking hole.
Just at that moment, two of theother therapists came into the
(05:21):
room.
They were all clapping andcheering, well done, well done.
I headed for the door.
They continued to clap theirhands.
See you next week.
They cried out in unison, fuckoff, fuck off.
I have to add here forclarification, I'm not a violent
human, not at all.
The opposite, in fact.
My throwing that chair was thestart of my healing.
(05:43):
All my inner child trauma that Ihad suppressed my entire life.
And yes, I did return the nextweek and the next week after.
It was painful and verydifficult, but I started healing
when I was ready.
And six months later, I wasdischarged.
And I had bi-annual and annualvisits after that.
But I was completely cured.
(06:04):
I learned what my triggers wereand stopped eating my emotions.
I'm a complete foodie, you know,I've always loved food.
But in my broken state of mind,it was the best way to punish
myself.
So many of us self-soothe withlove, alcohol, gambling, drugs,
work, sex, etc., I've enjoyed afantastic relationship with food
(06:27):
for over 20 years now.
Everything I speak about in mypodcast is from my point of view
and my learned livedexperiences.
And I'm no way, any shape orform an expert.
A woman who had an emotionallyabsent father, who she couldn't
really connect to, who didn'tseem at all interested in her,
(06:50):
who showed her no love oraffection, is much more likely
to develop hyper-independence.
And she won't be emotionallydependent on people because it
doesn't feel safe to trust them.
She may end up in relationshipswith men who are emotionally
unavailable to her, who areunable to show up as this
reminds her of her father.
(07:10):
Unconsciously, she has thisfantasy.
that if she can fix this man,she'll be fixing her father.
And finally, finally, a man willlove her and care for her and
show up for her in the way thatshe needs.
It's then so very difficult towalk away from the wrong person,
to ignore all the red flags,because subconsciously, this
(07:33):
would mean giving up on thefantasy of fixing her father.
And it would trigger all thosefeelings of being abandoned by
her dad once more.
I learned to get in touch withmy anger.
I learned to get in touch withmy pain and my grief.
I sat with my feelings ofdisappointment.
It's agonizing, but with help,you too can heal and begin to
(07:56):
live your life, really live it.
And now a poem.
It's an incredible poem byNikita Gill.
In another universe, I met myfather when he was a child.
We play catch in the woods andas we play he tells me he was
never allowed to cry and thatsometimes the world hurts him
(08:16):
but he doesn't know what to dowith all that pain.
So I give him the shoulder heneeds to cry on and he does
until the tears are done.
Afterwards I buy him ice creamand listen to his laugh, the
glowing warm laugh of a childwho knows he is safe.
I wish someone could have donethat for him.
Been a kind, safe place for thechild he used to be.
(08:40):
Would it have made a difference?
Would it have made a difference?
Oh, that hit me right in thesolar plexus.
This was a sore episode.
Thank you for listening.
I would absolutely love to hearfrom you.
Email me, sleeplessingranada atyahoo.com.
Next episode to follow soon.
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