“Why I like being fat and ugly Skinny, beautiful people just exist, they don’t really try hard and theyre usually dead bland because alot of things are just given to them. They don’t have to develop a personality because theyre given friends automatically because of the way they look. Like I’m glad because I developed a sense of humour and I definitely wouldn’t be the person I am today because I kind of like myself and I know my friends like me for my personality and not just because I’m good looking.”
And I have to disagree with that.
I use to be skinny and I wasn’t dead or bland. I did a lot of things. I wrote poetry, I recited at a poetry slam, I did graphic design, created a website, got published in a magazine. Everything I got was because I had to work hard for it. I did not have ANYTHING just handed over to me. I had a lot of personality, and was just as quirky then as I am now. I laughed a lot. I had fun. I had a lot of things to say. I certainly was not automatically given friends because of the way I looked. I actually had few friends, just about two or three close ones. I was very ambitious with a lot of goals and always working on one project or another, always writing down new ideas.
Yeah, I was a size zero, and no my ribs were not showing, nor was my spinal cord (I actually have a curve to my back) I had a shape despite being thin. I’m pretty irritated when people say that ‘Real women have curves’ The truth is, some girls like me are just naturally skinny. I hated my skinny arms, and had and extremely difficult time gaining weight despite how much I ate (all the time - I love food). It’s wonderful to feel good about yourself, but you don’t have to put down skinny women in the process.
There are girls out there who are just naturally thin, and don’t try to be that way. Are they not beautiful too? What about the sporty girl that doesn’t have much curves, the late bloomers? Are they not real women? Of course they are. Instead of convincing the world that real women have curves, or skinny is better, why don’t you find what looks best on YOU. Some girls look better and are healthier thin, some are better and healthier with curves. It’s all a personal choice, and as long as you love yourself and are confident, and aren’t stressing yourself, or trying really hard to look one way or the other, that is what’s important.
I was a beautiful girl when I was thin, and I am just as beautiful now with a more average weight.
Celebrate ALL the sizes. There are many different kinds of beauty. But they are all BEAUTIFUL.
I was sure that once I was off the meds, everything would come flooding back to me. Like feelings for a long lost lover I just ran into after ten years of us being apart. Everything would just pick up where it left off, and it'd all be pizzas and blowjobs.
I was wrong.
Everything is exactly the same. There's no sudden bursts of inspiration. No brilliant ideas at three in the morning. Maybe I haven't given it enough time. My thoughts are consumed. Consumed with objects . Consumed with obsessions on new phones that kick my current phone's ass. You know; dumb, pointless shit. I've always been insightful. I can't help but feel kidnapped. Like my soul was robbed of its true self. And I know I've got soul because I just feel so cloudy lately. Not like when you have a cold. This is different. This is worse. I'd call it death, but I'm pretty sure death feels just like home, the way you feel when you're falling asleep. This is... torture.
You're in this really gorgeous place. A place you always wanted to go. Maybe it's France, maybe it's Rome. Maybe it's a place that doesn't even exist. The point is, you're there. Only you can't see it. You feel it. You hear it. But you can't see it. So you can't make you're way around, you can't enjoy it. Can't get the full experience. Why can't you see it? There's thick fog everywhere. And it's only there for you. It's only in your way. Now I have a question for you: How the fuck do you get rid of it?
I can't breathe. I do what I love. What I'm good at, what I'm passionate about. And it just isn't the same. I'm not in there 100% and so the outcome is just empty. I'm always looking forward to something. And it just seems that when the day finally arrives, the excitement lasts significantly less than all the waiting did. I'm sure there's something wrong with that. I do what I tell others to do; find the little things that make you happy, make you feel like a kid again. For me that's lollipops, long baths, being alone and talking to myself. How much of that do I need to do before it makes a difference?
Don't get me wrong, I'm not sad at all. I'm just sort of numb. You know when they numb you at the dentist, or the hospital, and they do what they gotta do? You feel it, but it doesn't hurt. That's what I'm talking about. I'm dragging my feet through life like I got weights on my ankles, because frankly, not feeling anything is exhausting. When something I've been waiting for happens, my brain says "Be happy! Get excited!" the message doesn't really get through. I don't feel that skip in my heart, that flutter in my stomach, that rush in my veins. I'm kinda reading a book about a character I don't really care about.
Maybe I'm having trouble processing reality. Maybe it just doesn't hit me. But I know I'm capable. I know it because the one time it does hit me is when it comes to love. That, I feel full force. Love, I get high off of. So I can feel. Just not when it comes to my own self. Do I not think I'm important?
I refuse to believe I need pills! I functioned perfectly fine before them. And I was a cutter, but I wasn't the type of cutter who did it to feel real. I did it because I felt way too much emotion. Ah, and now I don't feel enough. Ironic. I ask myself, "are you satisfied? Is this what you wanted?" What I'd give to feel again.
Being honest about my thoughts and oddities has gotten me into something called....uh, well... I have no real friends. Not to worry. My boyfriend loves and accepts me, and if anything I also consider him a best friend. My parents are weird. I'm serious. One makes up words, the other makes up weird songs, and dances all over the place. I guess that's where I got it from. They're the best though. I love my cats, because I love cats. I love how they're independent and come for affection on their own time. I also find snails/slugs very interesting. I let them crawl on me. They're harmless.
I'm bipolar and have severe anxiety, plus I'm morbidly afraid of death. But other than that, I'm totally normal ;)