I'm traveling again for work. Staying in a beautiful place on the shore of Lake Champlain. Gorgeous view. I was going through some of my journals prior to this trip and came across a paragraph that I must have written several years ago about my childhood family. I was most likely attempting to sort out anger issues - my fathers, my brothers', my own. In the journal I wrote: "My father and my brothers made my mother and me feel stupid, ugly and unworthy. Getting and staying fat proved that they were right. It was how he controlled us - and he needed that control because of his own insecurities." So my father was made insecure by his father, and made me feel insecure because of how he was treated. And I bought it. Melanie Griffith was quoted in a May 3, 2010 issue of People when discussing her addiction to pain killers - "I think of it (my addiction) as a monster. If I feed it, it will always want more and  more. So now I'm letting it starve to death in a corner."
I so agree with her. Sometimes my 'feed me' monster looks like Jubba the Hut. He sits there - looms there - in the corner demanding to be fed. And out of my inseccurity (thanks, Dad) I feed him. I need to let my own personal jubba starve t death in the corner.
I'm not sure why I lost track of these thoughts from that journal because they ring so true for me. I need to repeat a line from that journal. "Getting and staying fat proved that they [father and brothers] were right." Why would I want to give my abusers any more power? Why would I do a single thing to condone their evil behavior? You don't get any more of my time, Jabba.  Sit there in your corner and starve to death. See if I care. 
That felt good!