bitchy_merlin | Raw Words

I just needed to put this somewhere other than my head for a while. There will be posts not dedicated to wangst! Just... not quite yet.

I don't know how to say this; I don't know how to explain it in any other way but this. I hate what I see in the mirror. I look and look, I stare and stare, but no matter how much I torque and turn and twist the angles, it's all wrong. What I see looking back at me is not a person - it's a thing and it's hideous. There is no good angle, there is literally nothing I can see in that image that is desirable to me in any way, shape, or form. The breasts are too small, the stomach is a bloated protrusion, the back is flabby, and worst of all, the proportions are all wrong. Nothing I do can fix this. The utter despicableness of my body astounds me at every turn. I feel a sweeping wave of incredulity hit me every time I catch a glimpse of myself. How did I become this ugly? When did this happen? How is it that I never noticed this disgusting creature taking shape before me?

Oh, it's bitter. Revulsion sinks its claws into the layer of fat that now surrounds my abdominal area. If only I could be pretty, I think, chomping down on another muffin, if only I could be beautiful. Every morning, I eye myself balefully in the mirror, hoping against hope... but no, that thing stares back at me, slovenly and appalling. Why do you exist? I want to ask it. No one wants you here, go away. The lump just stares back, accusing me. Nothing I do seems to help. There is no position in which I look decent or even halfway there. I stand up straight, practicing good posture - no dice. Curves balloon out instead of in, too much there, too little here... nothing lines up and it's (I'm) a mess.

There's no room right now for constructive thought in the stalemate of my mind. I'm a gigantic lump of lard saturated in self-loathing and numb disbelief about how I've let myself go. I can't fully describe how I feel (guilt: overeating, angst: I feel like I can't hang out with my friends because of this, angst: avoiding my family, helpless rage: at what I was and what I've become), but I just look wrong. This is the thought that permeates all my waking moments. It also ruins them. When I run away from conversations with dad, when I'm out with friends and can't think of anything to say, this is why. It's because the only thought I can process, the only thing I can think of is that my body is awful. My body is vile and awkward and disgusting. My body is ugly and that makes me unworthy. Unworthy of what? Anything. Kindness, respect, friendship, love. I am detestable and horrendous. I am ugly and worthless.

ugly bad fat awful lazy worthless stupid disgusting vile repulsive shameful loathsome hideous grotesque ==> me

(and two weeks, two weeks until I go back to Kingston for Don Training and then it will be September and I will be insured and I will finally be able to talk about this to someone who at least gets paid to put up with my shit)