How my brain works

Firstly let me say up front that I did not in any way write this blog post as a way of seeking validation. I never write with an expectation of response, i write only for the sole purpose of getting my thoughts out of my head and offering some support/understanding for others who suffer from similar mental health issues/self esteem problems

My whole life, due to bullying and never quite belonging or fitting in, I have established for myself the default position that I am not liked. When I meet people I automatically assume that they don't like me. I believe myself to be unlikable and know that because I doubt myself I can sometimes come across as snobby or stand offish. Despite my determination to not care what people think of me, I care desperately about how I am judged by others and presume that once I have been measured I will be found lacking.

Even if people seem to like me to begin with, I believe that once they get to know me they will realize their mistake and move on. I don't have any long term friendships. I am not friends with anyone I went to school with and I just don't have many friends in general. All of this makes it hard for me to meet new people, whats the point? They won't like me anyway.

I am really tired and feel like I have somehow managed to miss the point of this blog post. I really just need to get the words out. Maybe I'll have another go tomorrow when my eyelids aren't falling closed

Comments

I don't want to do this anymore

I am so over it right now. Everything feels hard. Everything feels shit. Everything makes me want to cry. I don't want to be a person any more. I don't want to be an anything any more. My children are smart. They get good grades, score well on NAPLAN, their teachers love them. Why then must they continue to do stupid things? I am so sick of a child running to tell me that so-and-so did such-and-such to me, I am sick of them hurting each other, I am sick of them destroying things, I am sick of them whinging, complaining, walking past rubbish on the floor, leaving shit everywhere, pretending they can't see the dog wee on the floor, having rooms that looking like the aftermath of a break and enter. I am sick of washing dishes, of sweeping floors, of the endless amounts of washing and folding and cleaning and tidying and cooking and planning and thinking. I am sick of feeling guilty for not being able to do those things that I should be doing, of feeling guilty that my husband...

Week One... Or Should I Say Week Two Thousand One Hundred and Seventy Nine...

That's how many weeks I have been alive (give or take a couple of days). Two thousand one hundred and seventy-nine. Yet here I am still fighting the same fights I have always fought. Self-image, self-acceptance, unrelenting standards, imposter syndrome. Once again I find myself in a body that feels uncomfortable and unhealthy. It crept up on me slowly and suddenly all at the same time. I still barely eat any refined sugar. I turn down the lollies and cakes and doughnuts at work. It's not even a struggle, I no longer enjoy the way sugar makes my body feel. But my old nemesis, potato chips, remains undefeated. I eat potato chips to fill the emptiness in my soul. To feel as miserable physically as I do mentally or emotionally. To get comfort from an association with my childhood. It is the struggle I can't overcome. The war I can't win. So after months of trying on my own to no avail, months of the scales not budging, I have signed up for a healthy eating plan. I'm n...

Confessions of a Fat Girl

I have been concerned about my weight and appearance ever since I was 12. I was teased in primary school for being fat and called names like porky. Here is a picture from my Year 7 Graduation to illustrate how fat and disgusting I was I say fat and disgusting because I truly believed when I was 12 that I was some hideously fat monster that no boy would ever want to kiss, no boy would ever want to go out with, no boy would ever love. It makes me so sad looking at this photo to know that I was so slim, so pretty, my life should have been full of wonder and possibility. Instead I began my journey down the long dark road that has led me to the depths of depression and an obsession with my weight (but thankfully never an eating disorder) and today it has led me to make this confession... I am currently the heaviest I have ever been in my entire life. I have eaten myself to the weight I never wanted to be. I am the exact thing I was teased for being. Along with the fact that I don...

a warped view

Search This Blog