My Insecurities

Sometime I just get them feels. Those feels that make me so sad I wish I was still small enough to crawl under my table. Or fit into one of those music lockers that Ronnie used to squish into. It’s like my heart is really heavy and I want to be alone. Like my stomach is all scrunchy like it wants to crawl away. It makes me feel like I want to eat. Just so that I have something to do to stop my eyes from watering. It’s not even like anything is particularly sad in my life. It’s just me. Just me sad. It’s not as bad these days. It was worse before. When I had stopped talking to all my friends and all I did was go to work, come home and sleep then go to uni, work, sleep. It was all I did. It made me feel so exhausted all the time. No matter what. I would fall asleep the second I sat down at home. But sleeping made me forget about how shitty the rest of my life was. I was so sick of how people treated me. But then I made new friends and it was okay and it’s getting better. But every so often I still have those days where I am home not necessarily alone but I feel it so much. But I want to feel it. It’s moments like these where I notice my worthlessness. I can’t seem to do anything right. Even the things I can’t change aren’t right. 

Lately I’ve gained weight. I’ve been gaining weight and it’s getting to the point that I’m noticing it. My boyfriend will put his arm around my waist and I can feel him touching the rolls of fat on my stomach. I sit down with a skirt on and my legs has dimples and cellulite and it’s one of the most horrifying things. Then I go home and I eat. I eat until I feel okay. Which sometimes doesn’t happen. So I eat until I fall asleep. I hate that I should be doing something about it. I should be fixing myself. But I don’t have the self-control to fix myself. I think it’s worse because I’m just too used to being super skinny. I was a very chubby child but after year 4 I lost all that baby weight and I’ve been stick thin ever since no matter what I ate. I took advantage of that and now I’m paying for it. My clothes don’t fit anymore. My skirts pull at my stomach and I have to suck in. My shirts seem smaller and show more stomach. The fat that hangs over the top of my pants makes me sick to my stomach. I’ve never had this problem and I’m not dealing with it well. 

People ask why I don’t update this all the time. This is why. Because most of the time I just have negative thoughts. And people say don’t be stupid, you’re still skinny/pretty/whatever. But I don’t see it. I can’t see it. I don’t feel it. 

And that’s it. That’s how I feel lately. You’d think it’d get easier as you got older but now I’m just harder on myself. I plan on doing everything I can to lose weight. I can’t afford a new wardrobe so all I can do is lose weight. It’s made me feel so insecure as well. I’ve started noticing other people and their better parts and how much better they are than me. I’ve always been one to compare but I’ve never had any reason to doubt myself and lately that’s all I’ve been doing. I don’t deal with things well ugh 




The Ambulance

I don’t think you realise what you regret until something happens – something comes along and makes you realise what has happened. I’m sitting here, absolutely wanting to be out of my mind right now. I can’t sit still and I can’t concentrate. I have an essay due tomorrow but I can’t do it. Not right now. It’s so much to think about. I’ve never seen an ambulance up close until tonight. That was something I could have lived without for a while longer. Hearing their doors open in the driveway. The seemingly normal living room, knowing what’s coming. Like foreboding. Seinfeld on the TV as if it’s nothing more than any other Wednesday night. But we all knew what was coming, who was coming. As Mum got up to open the door we all stare straight at the TV but no one’s watching it, no one cares. They walked in, green uniforms, big briefcase type bags full of things that I’m sure are magically medical. Their badges like reassurance. That everything would be okay but the grimness hangs in the air and no one really knows what to do. He sits on the couch as if he’s normal, as if nothing’s wrong. I told him before, “you can tell me nothing’s wrong when you can explain to me why you lost ‘a couple’ of hours out of your day today”. He’s stubborn, he sticks to what he knows. But that’s not what he needs right now. We all know he’ll be angry about it later but right now, we all need to know. They question him and the second man in the green uniform turns to me as I sit away from everything that’s happening, in my corner, hiding from the situation behind my laptop. He gives me a thumbs up and noticing my grim expression, he tells me to cheer up. I’ll cheer up when things are back to normal. When the night is normal. When he’s yelling at me for being a disgruntled teenager and I’m yelling at him about being an old drunkard. That’s when I’ll cheer up. They told him it wasn’t normal. We all told him it wasn’t normal. He knew, he didn’t want to admit it but he knew. They took him, the uniforms took him in the green ambulance. They told us to come – not to rush, but to come. We watched as he buckled himself in, alone. He was all alone and I hate that we didn’t go with him. He hates hospitals. He’s terrified. He’d never admit it but I know he’s terrified. It’s the exact stubbornness I’d have. You can’t show fear, fear is weakness. Emotion is weakness. But he hates them and yet he went. We all know something’s not normal. But for now we have nothing to do but wait and it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. But most of all I wish I’d hugged him before he got into the ambulance. Or told him it’d be okay, because even though it will, it would’ve meant a lot. I know it will. It has to be. He’s always the strong one but now we have to be strong. We have to wait.