The amount of shit I give about myself right now is non existent.
I really, truly have a problem.
An addiction, really.
Every day I pull off distracting myself just enough to be able to feel okay going to bed. But days like today throw my balance off of trying to trick myself into thinking I’m okay.
I work, and I work, and I study. Only so my mind won’t think about how unhappy I am with myself. The world around me could be decorated in lights, with music filling the air, and I still would find a way to ruin the good time for myself.
I hate who I’ve become on the outside, and now I’m slowly beginning to hate who I’m becoming on the inside.
My mind is racing.
It always is.
All I want is to be in that familiar setting with my mind completely numb and my body completely weightless. Irony.
I need it.
I want it.
No, I need it. I need that guilt, despair, regret, remorse, to remind myself what’s really important to me. Because I’ve lost sight of reality and make believe. I’ve lost sight of why I even care. I’ve lost sight of my rock bottom.
This craving is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before. There is this pulling between my heart and my mind and it won’t stop. Logic versus desire; fighting it, versus giving in. Round and round and round until I can’t help but throw my hands in the air, and say “fuck it”. Because who am I? Who am I. I can’t beat this; this constant heartbreaking, painstakingly difficult choice between right and wrong. If it was up to just me, I’d have already destroyed every inch that’s healed.
But it’s not just up to me because despite this pitiful internal battle inside my head, I am still in love. And with love comes purpose. And although I feel very purpose internally, I feel a purpose in her heart. I’m sure she wants a whole me, instead of a battered, and horribly broken, fake sense of myself. It’s one thing if I ask myself to accept my imperfections; it’s another to ask that of someone else.
I guess I can’t expect for someone to be okay with me hurting like this.
But wouldn’t it be nice, if I could?
It’s probably not safe to feel like this.
I’m not okay.
"Wanna know how I treat my girl? I tell her how beautiful she is. I hold her hand at any moment, even if it’s just for a second just to make her feel protected. I’d always tell her I love her every second of the day. When she is upset, I hold her tight and tell her how much she means to me. I recognize the small things, they usually mean the most. I sing to her no matter how horrible my voice is. I pick her over all the other girls I hang out with. I write her notes, and stick them in places for her to find. I introduce her to family and friends, as my girlfriend. I play with her hair. I pick her up, tickle her, and play wrestle with her. I sit in the park and just talk to her. I let her fall asleep in my arms. I carve our names into a tree. I never refuse to kiss her in public. I would give her piggyback rides whenever she wanted. I would bring her flowers. I treat her the same around my friends as I do when we’re alone. I look her in the eyes and smile. I let her take as many pictures of me as she wants. I slow dance with her, even if there isn’t any music playing. I kiss her in the rain. I love her. I give her a nickname that she loves and it makes her feel special. I treat her special! I open doors for her, give her my coat when she’s cold, don’t let her walk on the curb, make her feel safe. I do things for her without her asking me to do it. I buy her chocolate on my way back home. I give her a random call telling her that i miss and love her. I make her feel like the best thing in my life. I don’t ever hug friends for too long, especially if i know she’s not too fond of the friend. Also, I don’t treat my female friends like i treat her. She’s a special part of my life, so I save the cuddly stuff exclusively for her. Don’t lean your head against one of your female friend’s heads or nap with any of your female friends, that shit ain’t cool. When people diss her, I stand up for her. I’m her best friend. I’m always myself around her so she knows who I truly am. I don’t put on a fake show. When I am spending time with her, I always make sure she has my attention. I make sure I listen to her and talk to her. I always take the relationship seriously. If a guy/girl is bothering her, it is alright to kick the shit out of them. If I’m talking to a female friend, I pull my girlfriend closer to me to make her feel wanted. I make sure to memorize her god damn birthday. If I forget her birthday, I’m basically screwed for life. I make her feel like her birthday is the most special day in the world, because it is. Without that day, I wouldn’t be dating the most amazing girl in the world. After we have been dating for a while, I realize that she has really started to trust me. I put my arms around her waist and whisper in her ears. I look deep into her eyes, put both hands on her cheeks, and tell her i love her more than anything. I’m the best girlfriend in the world. I’ll buy or make her something special once a month to show my love is true. When something makes her mad, I’ll stay with her until she is smiling again. When she is crying, I wipe her tears away and I hold her until she stops just to let her know that i’ll always be there for her. I look at her like she is the only woman in the world that i see. I always remember the way and the date that we met. I never talk about my ex-girlfriend in front of her. It’s disrespectful. I’ll be her superman: no matter what she says or how she reacts to things, she’s always going to need me. I’ll never let her down by failing to return a call or text and making her worry. If i make a promise to her about something important, I keep it. And most of all.. I love her with all my heart."
It’s not about right or wrong, it’s about here and now.
I don’t want a robot who reads a script, I want raw, real moments that not even the story book authors would think to write.
Who gets angry at a heartbroken girl? I should probably just blame myself.
I should have just kept living in my own thoughts. It was my mistake, really.
The saddest part, I know what to expect.. “how would you feel if that was me saying that to you? You’d feel helpless and angry, too.”
No, this would actually be the saddest part; all I feel like doing is something stupid because this proved to me that I’m just a fucking failure. I’m going to end up letting this completely consume me. Completely
I gave in. Like usual. I’m so fed up with myself. I hope I don’t fall too far down.. so far down that I can’t see the opening.
It’s gotten to this point where my thoughts are keeping me up at night. They’re clawing.
I can’t even think about going to that store to get something for I dont want to be reminded.
My moms words, “so what happened to losing weight, shannon?! I thought that was going to happen?” Such simple words with such a sharp knife attached to them. But instead of a stab in the back, the knives are instead pricking at every thought that follows that sentence.
I’m a failure.
I always thought I was so great. I am such a ‘mature’ 19 year old. But I’m not. I’ve lost those years where it was okay to fuck up. Now, if I fuck up, I have a girlfriend who second guesses having children with me. Now, if I were to fuck up, I’d lose everything instead of just a weekend of torture by being grounded.
It’s not fair to have my whole world on my shoulders. I’m collapsing. I’ve always worried so much about everything else, that I forgot to worry about me. I’ve always expected everyone else to worry about me. How silly. How fucking ridiculous of me to think I mattered so much, that people would worry about me.
No. Instead, I have grown to be someone I despise.
And now, when all I want to do is stupid shit to attempt to hide and cover and disguise all this anger and guilt and pure fucking pain, I can’t. Because I’m supposed to be mature, remember? I’m supposed to have learned from my old mistakes. I’m supposed to be smart, and kind, and perfect.
The saddest part of all, you ask?
I enjoyed every second of not eating today for all of the reasons you shouldn’t enjoy anything.
I loved the feeling of pure stupidity I felt, because I’m never stupid.
I loved the feeling of emptiness in my mind, and my stomach, because I’m never empty. (Physically or mentally)
I loved the feeling of rebelling against everything I know is right, because I’m never wrong.
Every second I didn’t eat, was a successful second. And don’t get me wrong, I know not eating is wrong. But it felt so right today. Feeling so shitty about myself resulted in almost punishing my body, and ultimately my mind, for getting so disgusting.
I really don’t know what’s going on lately in my mind, but all I know is it’s not me.
I want to get out of this way of thinking.
But… I am in no rush.
I’ve eaten a total of 10 calories today and it’s kind of a game at this point for how long my body can last without yelling at me through a headache or actual sounds from my stomach.
It’s one of those things that I’m really good at hiding on a day to day basis, but when it is right in front of my eyes, I completely break down from all the days I’ve kept it in. Every single day it’s a battle. That sounds so dramatic, but it’s true. I am disgusted with myself. There is no other word for it. Absolutely disgusted.
How could I have let myself get to this point? Its disgusting in every sense of the word. I’m gross. I can’t go to a store to shop, something that should usually be fun for all involved, without feeling like such a failure. I look in those huge mirrors and see someone I never thought I’d be. All I see is a ton of fat and lines indented on my skin that arent supposed to be there.
I’m only 19.
An age most would die to be at. And all I want to do is change everything about myself. Shopping for work pants, and the only pair that actually fits me, is the maternity pants. A 19 year old in pants meant for a pregnant woman.. I just can’t even comprehend that. If it were anyone but me, I’d think wow, they have some problems if they are actually OKAY with fitting into maternity pants. But then I think, and im like, god damnit, that’s me. I have a problem. I need help. Im so disgusted with how much I’ve let myself go. And worst of all, I bring danielle down with me and she thinks it’s her fault. It’s no ones fault but my own and I’m even worse than I thought if I’m bringing her down too. She is my life, and I won’t have the long happy life I plan to have with her if I continue to be selfish as hell and let something so simple as food come in between me and my relationship and my life. I can’t do this anymore. I seriously think everytime I get like this, it’s my rock bottom. But I’m scared to see where my actual rock bottom is. I want this to be it. Me crying in a department store. Me being in sizes my mother fits in. Me fitting in maternity clothes. Me passing stores with only sizes Medium and Small and loving every outfit, yet knowing I have to walk by because none of it will fit me. Me settling for clothes I dont even like. Me not being able to feel good about myself. Me feeling guilty every time I eat. Me being so lazy, I cant enjoy my time out. Me looking in the mirror and hating every inch of myself. Me looking at danielle knowing how sad I make her.
I’m done with it all. I’m just done.