I wish that I could quiet myself. Make my mind stay dormant for just a little longer. Instead I’m up at 2 am wishing I could sleep but instead I’m writing this. Hopefully the out pouring of these sick emotions would shut me up and allow me to sleep.
There is something about Florence and the machine. Her voice is just so… other worldly. Like if I listen to her for too long her voice can be grating but there are moments, like now, when it just makes sense. I can’t pin point my exact feelings right now. It’s a mix of regret and hope. I regret the stupid shit I have done to make me the person I am today. This complete mess that isn’t charming in the least. You know in rom coms? The girl who is a total spazzoid that’s clumsy and scatterbrained but ends up with the main dude anyway? Yeah, that is me sans dude.
I just want so much and nothing at the same time. I wish I wasn’t such a stupid female sometimes. Wanting things you don’t need, ya feel me? I know my future relies on me. The year of make shit happen is in affect but I’m still brutal to myself. I have been so tempted to cut off my stomach its ridiculous. I wish that could happen now but I have to wait 100 more pounds down for any plastic surgeon to take me seriously. I know the stomach is the last thing to go but mine is so gelatinous. So… jabba the hut it’s seriously ruining all of my outfits.
Take tonight for example: I am finally comfortable enough to wear leggings and like a long shirt. I wear it but all I see is my rotund middle. I go to the bathroom tonight and I just felt like crying. But I persevere. I do. I really have come very far. I just thought all these stupid emotional dumb ass feelings would be donezo. I thought I wouldn’t feel this way. I also thought after losing 100 pounds i’d be miss hot stuff. Silly me forgot that when I started this process I had 200 to lose. I’m halfway there.
People relate to my plight but were you guys ever 412 pounds? Did you ever get looked at you were a fucking slug on the side walk and blatantly toyed with because it was fun to fuck with the fat chick? Those moments are hard to put away. They’re going away slowly but I’ve been hurt. I’ve been hurt by people I thought I could trust, I’ve been abandoned, and I’ve been severely mistreated. Some of those people I still allow to be in my life. Isn’t that stupid? Isn’t that silly? My hearts too big. I think I should be more callused and more of a bitch. I wouldn’t write blog posts like this and I probably would’t listen to “never let me go” 4 times in a row too.
“I’m not giving up, I’m just giving in.”
I don’t know what I’m looking for. Validation? Revenge? I think revenge is what I’m most thirsty for. I want to feel hot and show it to those that have talked the most shit. I hate being that person but I think it goes with being human.
The night is the hardest for me. When all my lonely, self doubting, and assuming the worst kinda thoughts come forefront.
“now when i caught myself I had to stop myself from saying something that I should have never thought… now I don’t know what I want.”