I’ve never really seen myself as someone who was good at much. Especially writing. But I figured I would give it a shot. Please if this strikes a chord with you, share it, let me know. I would love to hear I’m not alone. Anyway, here goes.
So when I was in like the 4th or 5th grade I got a gift card to Toys ‘R Us. Being a 10 year old I was obviously too cool for anymore barbies (but damnit they were always so pretty), I ended up looking at the clothing section. I found this cute little vermilion colored dress with flowers all over. It had 3/4 length peasant sleeves with slits down the outside. So presh. My hairstyle around this age, had a Carol Brady esque look to it, but softer and toned down. I don’t remember much else about that outfit, but I’m fairly certain I wore it with jeans..boot cut of course, the dress was a little too short if I remember correctly. I was so excited to go to school and show off my cute new outfit. I had probably been at school for an hour when these two boys in my class made fun of my outfit and said it looked like I was wearing a “babies dress” and how ugly it was. (These two boys bullied me from 3rd to 6th grade.) I pretended I was sick and went to the office, looked through the lost and found and grabbed a Nike sweatshirt and wore that all day. When I got home I cut up the dress.
That’s the earliest memory I have of hating the way I looked and wishing I was someone different. Though definitely not the last or the scariest.
I come from the south. That’s all that matters. My parents divorced when I was young. And I grew up with my siblings. Let’s put it this way, I had to grow up really fast for a lot of different reasons. I used to always feel a lot older than my friends, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve been feeling younger and less successful than almost everyone I know. I’ve done pretty well for myself considering I’m in my mid twenties.
I’ve always tried to use fashion as an outlet. I can put together some cute outfits sometimes, like really 😉. But I also have days where I cant figure a damn thing out. Nothing seems to look right together and I feel like everything I own is ugly. I worry that everyone around me will think my outfit is awful or that I shouldn’t be wearing a certain type of clothing, or that I look dumpy…like I just rolled out of bed (which I probably did…). Anyway; I have so much anxiety over my self image. I see myself as an overweight girl who’s trying really hard to accept herself. I go through a lot of phases. Punk, preppy, chill, professional, you name it. I experiment with every aspect of my look (hair and makeup especially), I feel like the only way my peers will accept me is if I look like I am always 100%. My mind is always fogged and ultimately unaware of what is going on. I try so hard to be present and be a better person and friend but I always feel like I’ve failed.
I’m writing this, because I guess I’m working on self discovery. Everything I’m writing I am writing completely off the top of my head. I need to write it down so I can remember it, and hope to understand why I hate myself so much. Obviously there are a lot of problems and issues I’m leaving out. They don’t matter. I already know those, and I know their role in who I’ve become.
The dictionary describes the word ‘Lonely’ as “without companions; solitary.” Now, I’m a very social person. I’ve always worked with people and have been easy to get along with. But despite that, I have always felt alone. As though no one actually likes me. They’re all just judging me and they feel bad for me because I’m awkward. Or dressed weird, and it goes on and on and on. And I don’t want to bother the people close to me with my fears because they seem so petty. Then, I worry that the people close to me are annoyed with my stories, or ranting, or they just get annoyed by my presence. My everyday constant thought process is; try really hard, do my best, feel proud of myself, worry that I’m making a fool of myself, shut down and say nothing. It’s exhausting.
I’ve always been a seemingly happy person. Anytime people talked about depression, I knew I would never be like that. Because my life was fun. I was fun. I probably didn’t make all of the best decisions, but what else do you expect. When the realization finally hit I decided to combat it. I didn’t want to wallow and be pitiful. But in turn, I end up talking A LOT about my realizations, and my course of treatment, and even the things I learned. I hate myself for that. I hate that I dislike myself SO MUCH that I can only feel better from the recognition and attention others give me. I don’t know how to love myself.
I throw myself into everything. I leap no matter how ominous the valley. And if I start to fall I literally pull solutions out of thin air. When it comes to flying by the seat of my pants, I’m a fucking champ. And I hate that. I try and try and try to plan things, even my day to day activities, but I can never stick to a schedule or timeline.
You have to nurture yourself, to nurture others. I try to take care of everyone around me. I’m a nosey person, but I mean well. If I get in your business it’s because I love you. But all of that love and care I’m trying to give out, I can barely function anymore because I’m so drained. I don’t nurture myself. Being irresponsible and not honoring my word to people about the things I will do for them and not doing it…it’s not healthy. I’ve never tried to just focus on myself.
I want to be better. I want to be able to make myself happy without the approval of others. That’s what I’m hoping to learn through this “journey”
Contoured & Confused 