I had a session with my therapist tonight. Talked about me being afraid to deal with my feelings and how that fear is the real danger to me. I talked about my aunt who is dying. I put my emotions on hold, its automatic. No I wasn't particulary close with her, but close enough. She's my aunt. I love her like all I love all my family. She's too young, and its so unfair.
My shoulders feel so heavy. I don't need anyone's sympathy. It doesn't comfort me. People think you're automitically are going to break down and become weak in this type of situation if you are already senstive to begin with. I've gotten myself through everything else in my life. When I want to share the burden I will.
I've been thinking about a story I want to write, in the genre of young adult fiction. About a girl who's struggling with depression. The idea it shaped into was a young teenage girl has visions of people dying around her, only she thinks them to be horrible nightmares. When her own mother dies, she can't take it. I told this to my therapist and a friend. Now I'm not so sure it's the right story to tell. It needs to be right. I'm addicted to fear, angst, strong emotions. My ideal would be to write something a book in similar fashion to Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. The more you read, the better write you can become. I just need the right idea. I keep going back to depression. Maybe I need to to just simply it, like in Ordinary People.
I have other things I need to discuss.
I'm tired of thinking that part of me is better than others. I don't mean to do it, and I berate myself for it. Is it just human nature? Maybe I'm just a hypocrite and have a hard time accepting that.
I work on my fanfiction stories or anything else when I have so much weighing on my mind. Everything gets put on hold until I feel 'okay' overall. Where I feel like I now give myself permission to work on something once I stop worrying about some things.
Dave Matthews Band usually helps me to feel better. 🙂 Even just a little bit is great.
I have a job to apply for before I do anything else.
My other worry is just sitting here and gaining weight. Yes I am overweight. Now extremely, but enough to make me uncomfortable. I steadily have since I was 10 years old. My aunt described me as solid, but never heavy. Then I got so depressed I wanted to die. My anxiety was unbearable. I couldn't stand myself. That's how I graduated highschool and started the rest of my life. I actively planned killing myself by the time I ended college.
I was so anxious. I discovered at lunch. If I just wolfed down my food, I got an instant rush. So I needed more until I was uncomfortably full. Then I'd go home. I get whatever change I could find and go to the deli down the street. I got a whole collection of stuff, snuck it home and just wolfed that down.
This pattern just continued. Until I realized, I am just so worthless, my life is going nowhere. Eat more, eat until your sick. At least it makes you feel better in that moment.
Now a few years later. I've started becoming active. I like hiking. I like biking, but don't do much because its too strenous. I want to go white water rafting. I want to spend more time in the outdoors. Not in a tent, because I'm just too much of a wimp. But I'd love to do long hiking trips, climbing, etc.
Like I said in a previous blog, I started my own beginner hiking group on meetup. It's going well. Right now, I can't go hiking because I had surgery. So I can't even exercise for probably another week or so. I'm going to try to get some short walks in this week.
You know what pisses me off. I know what it is to be overweight, fat, insecure, low self worth, yet I feel like if I get active, it will automatically make me feel better and then maybe I'll finally start to feel like a human being.
So many people are overweight, yet people find it necessary to make those feel less worthy. Like they don't even have the right to be around the general public until they loose weight. They're laziness, lack of control, well that's just not acceptable in polite society. Haha, like in the 1800s or something.
It doesn't matter what I think, my true opinion will shape how everyone else sees me. I am very ashamed of myself. For letting my life slip so much out of control. But that's okay. I needed lots of help, and many people just overlooked me when I was younger, I'm talking adults. I'm not blaming anyone. I just wish someone had taken an interest because I was noticibly distraught. I wish I hadn't been so afraid of therapy back then. They might find out how weak I was. I was anxious, depressed, lonely, and scared. I thought my fate was to end it all.
I like myself a great deal more than I used to. But still living in this same body, I think back to the girl/teenager I was and I blame her so much. I just have to admit I did the best I could. I compliment myself for coming so far with overcoming the depression, the cutting (which I actively chose to do to myself), and the anxiety. For recognizing that I have problems with emotional eating and steep self-esteem issues that have nothing to do with my weight.
I need to give myself a fair chance to succeed instead of always setting myself up for failure. I'm tired of treating myself like I'm less human just because I have more weight to me. I want to be healthy and enjoy my life. I don't have any person to impress. I tell myself several times throughout the weeks, that I can start putting myself out there once I lose weight. I can start trying to date once I do. Because then they will see I care about myself. But if I cared about myself, I wouldn't do that to myself. Oh geez, that was a big self-reflection moment.
I'm not ugly. I'm beautiful (I rolled by eyes over that one.). If I open myself up to the world, and stop trying to bury myself from it with worries, food, insecurity, whining, fear and whatever else, I will become stronger. I've been able to do that at times over the past year. So I'm going to apply for that job, before I do anything else, like I wrote earlier in the blog. I just had to keep typing. I worried that if people know I'm fat, that the person writing this blog is fat, I will be skipped over. Like that's all there is to me. I don't give other people too much credit do I. Most can probably sense my unease with myself miles away. Houndogs could track that scent whereever I went.
That's a load of my shoulders. Thank you to anyone who shares a bit of it with me. I really appreciate it.