I wish I could just stop being so goddamn sad all the time.
I wish that I wasn’t always unhappy or frowning or fucking anxious that I annoy everyone around me. I wish that I didn’t have acne-scarred skin and yellow fucking hair. I wish that I wasn’t overweight with ugly stretchmarks because I’m the hopeless wonder that gains almost 20kgs in maybe two months.
I wish that I didn’t have a boyfriend who never finished school, and who can’t drive and doesn’t own a suit and everything else that seems really superficial but I get really tired of defending.
But mostly I wish I could get out of bed in the morning and not lift up my shirt, look at my stomach, curse and frown, take a shower, consider getting back into bed, sitting on the bed, contemplating just staying there. I wish that I could have one day where getting out of bed wasn’t my biggest achievement. I want to not lay on my bed the whole day staring at the ceiling, not being able to do anything.
I want to be able to enjoy going out and socializing and dancing. I want to not spend all of my money on food only ending up eating it all in one day and spending the rest of the week starving myself. I want to not be controlled by food. I want to not come home every day and just sleep so I don’t eat or because I have nothing better to do all day. Am I really that person? Does my life not have any meaning?
I wake up, I go to class, I come home, I sleep, I eat, I stare into space until it’s time to bed.
Then I have my fucking roommate miss academia and house comm who fucking works all the time and has friends and a social life and is skinny and how can one person have their life so together and I can’t even manage to get out of bed, a good day is when I can actually convince myself to do laundry. This crippling hopelessness is not something that I think I can live with. Seeing everyone I went to school with losing weight, becoming more and more beautiful, building a life for themselves.
Honestly I don’t think I’ve grown at all since last year, I’d like to convince myself that I have. Yes so working in a restaurant is not that bad and now I go back willingly, yes I lost my virginity and we fucked like bunnies all though spring/summer. Yes I was actually skinny for maybe a month until I ballooned out of “happiness” and have since been fatter than ever, leaving my self esteem shatters.
I just want to feel equal, good enough for once. I’m tired of seeing myself as the fat friend or the quiet friend or the friend that is fucking incapable of fucking being social and how is it that after a year I am still sat here fucking comparing myself to fucking dickheads that I actually couldn’t fucking stand in high school??
Why are their lives so great?? Why do I constantly feel like I am fucking only being tolerated by the people that I call my friends? Why can’t i just be understood. I don’t even want to be understood. I just want to be vapidly and superficially, physically pretty. Like, yes, all the recovering eating disorder people say that chasing happiness in losing weight never lead anyone to true happiness, but .. I was happy?? I was so happy????? I was so confident??? Wearing all the clothes then and seeing the way it looks on me now? FUCK.
My residence formal is in a few weeks and my prom dress doesn’t even fit me anymore.
And it’s my fault because I was being so irresponsible. Irresponsible with food and my weight and my future !! I’m not in house comm, I do no extra curricular activities, my CV is almost blank because I can’t fucking get myself out of bed in the mornings.
I’m SO tired of being unhappy.