| Eating Disorders Institute > For Families and Friends > Personal experiences > Bridget: a mother's journey |
Bridget: a mother's journey*
When Theresa was going through her eating disorder, it was a very hard time for me, and talking about these times brought back the memories of what our family went through.
Early on in Teresa's illness, what was frustrating for me as a mom was that I wanted to help my daughter, but didn't know how. As a parent, you always want your children to be healthy and happy. Teresa's illness left me helplessly searching for the right thing to say or do.
As a parent, you want to fix or help your children with their problems. What was disappointing to me was watching Teresa go from a happy, fun-loving, caring person to someone slowly trying to kill herself — and knowing she had a lot of determination but was letting the anorexia take over her life. I did a lot of praying and had many sleepless nights. As I lay awake, I would ask myself where I went wrong as a mom.
Teresa's relapses were disappointing, too. She was very smart and manipulative — not only in treatment, but also when she came home. I tried not to watch her or ask her if she had eaten. But it was not easy, and consequently, we got into many arguments over the anorexia. My relationship with Jeffrey (my husband) also was suffering. I knew how much he was hurting inside. He was very patient, and always seemed to be there when times got rough. But financially we were strapped, and this added to our stress.
I think the hardest part, besides wanting to help Teresa get better, was trying to keep a normal family life. I would go to work and try to get through the day without crying, for fear someone would ask me how she was doing. I knew that everyone was only trying to be considerate, but that awareness did not help. When I would go somewhere and people were laughing and enjoying themselves, I would say to myself, “Why is our family going through this ordeal while other families are having a normal life?” I was even on antidepressants for a few months to help me cope. After about three years, I finally realized I did nothing wrong as a mom, and that it was out of my control whether Teresa got better. After that time, normal activity seemed easier for me.
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