Why I am like this?

A Story by psychoticmess

A personal statement showing my struggles with mental illnesses.

Why is it when I look at myself, all I see if a truly disgusting manifestation of everything that I hate? I am technically obese, of average intelligence, ugly, with bad hair, and just overall not particularly interesting.

Why can’t I look at myself, and feel the way I do when I see other beautiful girls? Why do I give myself such a hard time for not being magazine perfection? I hate my eyes, I have a squint, they look dull, and they aren’t symmetrical. I hate my nose, it is a little girl’s nose, it’s too small for my face, it is stupid looking and it just ruins any chance of my ever believing that I am pretty. My teeth are too small, yellowish, bad enamel and just another feature to tick off in this hate list. I used to have nice cheeks, but now my face is bloated looking and just further represents how I have let myself become so fat.

Fat is a word we through around too lightly, it’s a horrific word, it is in my opinion, worse than calling someone a c**t. Or calling a black man, a filthy n****r. Yet, if we did call someone a c**t, or a n****r, then we are shamed and punished and disregarded completely as people. But, if you call someone fat, it’s just teasing, it doesn’t mean anything, just get over it, who cares if they call you fat- you don’t even know them? Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me.

No, names might not ever hurt us the same way getting stones flung at you might. But they words get buried deep inside your soul, until you’re nothing more than a mess of insecurities, anxieties and depression. I want to slimmer, prettier, have nicer hair, dress in nicer clothes, earn better money. Everyone does. What I really want, more than I have ever wanted anything in this world is simply to be happy. If I were slimmer I wouldn’t need to worry about being categorically obese any longer, but there will always be something to emotionally torture myself with.

I should really be happy, I have an amazing boyfriend who listens to me spilling this sort of s**t on a regular basis, helping me each week when I say that I’m gonna lose weight, I’ve had enough of being like this, I’m gonna get those sought after veneers to make my teeth prettier. He doesn’t judge me when I cut my arms or my legs, he doesn’t go tell my mum and dad who would inevitably go insane and blame themselves, and he seems to really believe I am beautiful as I am. But it’s not enough. I still find myself fuelled with crazy thoughts running through my head and feeling as though I have nowhere to turn. He simply holds me, tries to tell me things are going to be okay, and that he loves me. But I am still mentally ill.

I have a best friend that I can actually tell some this stuff to- not all of it. No one will ever hear all of it. And he helps me almost as much as my boyfriend does, because he cares about me. Yet, I still convince myself I have no friends, that the friends I do have would prefer to have other friends, and that I’m just sort of there and unsure why.

There’s a part of me constantly worrying I am going to get ill- end up with diabetes, or cancer, or some other s**t, which I am fairly certain will inevitably happen because of my life that is an endless pattern of bad luck. Yet, there is this other part of me that wants to get some illness. Each time I have bad cramps, I’m secretly, deep down, hoping that it is appendicitis. I mean, I am so sick in the head that no friend or boyfriend I have ever known could understand this. I don’t even understand it. Why do I want to be ill? I’ve never considered myself specially attention seeking, although I do love attention just as much as the next person, but not to this extent.

Today I didn’t have lunch because I simply could not face going to the café and actually asking for food. Being in work and answering a total of three phone calls today was well more than enough socialisation I needed. Frankly, if it weren’t for the not-so-hot £5.30 an hour, I would probably still be in bed, feeling dirty and horrible.