Trying To Put Out My Dumpster Fire *********************************************************************************** Birthday! I've been #NerdyThirty for a little bit now. For my birthday I kept shit super low key. I went to an art museum in Dallas. I also tracked down The Eye which is literally a giant eyeball sitting on a patch of green grass behind a metal fence in their downtown area. Slightly weird but whatever. Chicago has The Bean. Although I will say for The Bean it's a nicer set up and you can get close to it and whatnot. For my birthday I made my own cake which my family thought was depressing but I looked at it like it was fun. I haven't baked in forever and felt like I wanted to reclaim some of my happy baking mojo. I also thought I could decorate a cake. Like wake up one day after watching 2 YouTube videos and eyeing a dozen photos and magically become this master cake decorator who was also super skilled at fondant. My cake was like a fon-dont but it tasted really good. I made homemade raspberry buttercream for my filling. The cake itself was layered red velvet. It was a festive good tasting cake that wouldve taken home the grand prize at Pintrest Fails but I loved it though. Overall I feel good. I dont have a complete direction on life or what I want to be when I grow up (even though I'm 30) but I feel as if I'm getting through the funk. I dont feel like failure (for once. Its still a lingering thought though). I dont feel like I want to kill myself (in fact I'm SO glad I didnt cause it was looking scary last year). I'm not a hundred percent sure why I feel good but I think writing down my feelings in a constructive manner is working. It could also be I live in Texas and the sun feels So. Damn. Nice. I think too going to the gym helps. All those endorphins plus with my high level anxiety I'm soothed in a way by routine so figuring myself out and developing better habits have been going good with me. I think I might be happy? I'm not sure. It's been quite some time since I felt that but at least I'm not always so blue. Cheers! :) 11:51 am - Friday, Jul. 12, 2019 *********************************************************************************** Therapy Vol.7 That last post was kind of tough for me. I brought up a lot of baggage and didnt know where to put it, so it just sat there. All heavy and uncomfortable. It made me feel weird and on edge and tired. I was just so emotionally exhausted I laid around that day and tried not to eat my feelings. I checked out. Weight matters to me because... I think it is the key to my happiness. If I lose the weight then I will be incredibly happy and people will like me. My family wont be ashamed of me. My mother doesnt claim me most of the time. I could never understand what I did wrong but figured if I was skinny and pretty she would publically admit I was her daughter. Sometimes it's easy for me to brush it off like, oh she just prefers the boys over me. That is true. The boys are on a pedestal. But. Growing up, she also favored my sister. Loved her. Thought she was pretty. Claimed her. My sister was never fat. She had a banging body and our mom loved clothes shopping for her. Our mom would do anything for her. She was never a burden. If I lose weight and become pretty maybe I'd stop feeling like a burden. Maybe I'll find my place in the world and have friends and a fabulous life. I know it's silly but it is something that is driving me. "I need a break, in a beautiful place, away from my own thoughts"~Unknown "self love will save your soul"~r.h. Sin "Maybe they didnt love you, but they taught you--changed you. They grew you"~Unknown 11:15 am - Friday, Jul. 12, 2019 *********************************************************************************** Therapy Vol.6 In a matter of days I'll be 30. I'm not where I wanted to be in life and that makes me feel uncomfortable and full of regret. I'm trying to tell myself though that I'm now working on myself and that by this Tim next year everything should be back on track. I'm trying not to wallow or live within negative feelings because then it just makes me want to give up on life and I truly dont want that. Yesterday i went over in calories. I almost threw the whole diet away. I got super anxious because i needed to clean my resume and search for jobs. I got overwhelmed and sad. Before i even started the search i wanted to give up because i felt it was never going to work and why try? I'm just a loser with too much education and no one is going to want me. Then when i envisioned myself working to ease that anxiety i got super anxious about leaving the house and driving. My thought process is SUCH a mess. I eventually got on track and found a bunch I'm excited to apply too but i did spend most of yesterday avoiding the computer and eating too much. What parts of my life will be different if i lose weight? I truly believe my whole life will change and I'll finally be happy and successful. Should i pin all my hopes and dreams on weight loss? NO. I should not. Am I though? YES. Absolutely. If I wasnt fat I would look better. Clothes would fit. My wardrobe would be amazing. I would have so much happiness. I would have so much confidence. My family would adore and love me. I would stop feeling like an orphan or the help. It sounds crazy. It IS crazy. This is also why everytime I binge I get sad, depressed and angry because I'm throwing away my chance to be happy and successful. I'm making it harder. Then when I'm sad, depressed and angry I eat more because I'll be fat forever and should give up. It's a stupid cycle I go through. But I truly want off this merry go round. What is your biggest struggle with loving yourself? I'm not sure. I know I dont though. I dont really remember ever loving myself. I can remember hating myself. I can remember avoiding mirrors or feeling ugly. Always awkward. Always in the way of others. Always a burden. I dont think I've ever had healthy self esteem. There was always something. My family has always made me feel as if I didnt matter. No one wanted me. I dont recall anyone being excited or happy to see me. I've always struggled with depression and anxiety. I've always been super sensitive. I could pick up when my mom, grandparents, siblings or even friends were upset with me or didnt like how I looked. I would go to school and get made fun of for being black. For being mixed. For having a white mother and looking black. For having "nappy" hair. I would have white teachers think I wasnt smart and when I did well they would assume I cheated. I've taken a lot of tests in halls. Even if the teacher didnt assume I cheated I would have students who assumed I either slept with a teacher or got a good grade because I was black. I would have students call me names like gorilla or monkey. I would have some throw yarn or string or paper balls in my hair to see if it would stick. Then they would laugh. I would have some tell me to my face that they hated black people or laugh and say they could never date or even be friends with someone who was black. I would have some who said they felt bad for me being black. I would have some want to be my friends because I was black. When things didnt go their way on the playground or in the classroom, everytime I beat them or excelled they would hurl in my direction, "well at least I'm not black". Like it was some type of disease. Every day there would be something and it was hard. It was so fucking hard. Then I would go home to people who hated me there. To a mother who didnt want me and admitted numerous times growing up that she hated me. One time she told me she wished she aborted me. Told me while laughing that she was pissed gma gave me back to her because she didnt want me. To an alcoholic gma wo hated me. Who would kick me out on a whim. Who would knock the shit out of me on a whim. Who laughed in my face with my step gpa when I said I'd call the cops because it was against the law for me to experience child abuse. She told me no one would believe me because I was almost as tall as her and she was a kind, old gma. The same woman who told me numerous times I wasnt shit. Would never amount to shit. That no one would ever love me. My own mother didnt even want me. To siblings who couldn't stand me. Who thought I was fat and ugly. A brother who spat in my face and called me a bitch. Who was always comfortable calling me a bitch. A cunt. Punching me. Choking me. Literally no one loved me. So why should I? This is sad as fuck and why I try to keep all my memories tucked away. Only they're never really tucked away because I'm prone to spazzing out and having emotional breakdowns. I eat too fucking much and I stopped living because I've basically been waiting to die since I was a kid. Just reliving all this makes my chest hurt. Makes me sad and weird and uncomfortable. I had such a shittybchildhood and I mourn for that girl who was dirty and unkempt and and felt no one loved her or was in her corner. It was so unfair for her to experience that. I want to do so much better now. I really do. "we are all born/so beautiful/the greatest tragedy is/being convinced we're not"~rupi kaur "I had brutal beginnings/I will not let the darkness in"~Melissa Jennings "You say I have to forgive you because/'blood is blood'/But blood was blood/when you chose to hurt me"~Upile "At the root of my anxiety I found human beings who claimed to love me"~Warsan Shine 10:21 am - Tuesday, Jun. 25, 2019 *********************************************************************************** |
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