Thank you so much, cjmccray, and I am so sorry to hear of your loss. That is something I could never imagine and I completely understand why you would rather spend Christmas relaxing on your own.

Pfrog, my dad just keeps asking me "Why?" over and over. "What is causing this anxiety?" "I don't know. If I could figure that out, I probably wouldn't have it!" "You're afraid to eat? Are you anorexic?" "No, I am not anorexic. I am trying to gain, not lose."

Pfft. He has his own issues. He is so stiff and rigid from his crummy upbringing and the military that a therapist would probably have a field day. I finally got so frustrated that I said, "Look, would you question a diabetic about their illness? If I was wearing a cast, would you keep asking me why? I don't understand it, but just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't real!" My gosh. The saddest thing is he had a heart episode of some kind (nothing serious, but it caused his heart to race so much he began coughing) and afterward, he told my mother how he finally understood what I was going through. That was a year ago and all has been forgotten.

And on and on it goes. My mom told me I should never have bothered with therapy because it hasn't done an ounce of good. She's right - most of the seven years I spent in therapy was a waste of time, but she's referring to my aversion to restaurants and eating in front of others, something which I never brought up to the therapist in detail because I don't care if I never eat in another restaurant again.

She understands, but only to a point because her panic is alleviated with the lowest dose of Xanax that's available. The first time I was given a low dose of Xanax, I never felt anything at all. They had to keep on increasing and switch me over to Klonopin for me to get any sort of relief. So you can see there's quite a difference. Still, when she tells me how she's suffered/suffering, I'm empathizing all the way. She switches between trying to empathize and then chastising and saying we're dysfunctional.

I didn't call her yesterday to tell her the plan so she is probably angry and who knows what I'll do about gifts. I took a Klonopin in anticipation of calling her, but then IBS hit and I never did. If I tell her that, she'll just blow it off because she hasn't had IBS a day in her life.

Isn't it warped that I have to take a Klonopin to talk to my mother? She can make me so angry and frustrated that I have to go into the conversation as relaxed as I can be or my heart starts racing and palpitating and it gets ugly.

She is very big on appearances. Part of this is because she wants to see me, but a huge part is so she can tell her sister and friends that they spent a normal family Christmas with me.

Wish me luck, gang! I'm going to need it when I call her today (25th).