17.08.18

Flub. Flubber dub dub. I stare hard at the figure in front of me.

I fight the tears that threaten to fall. There is a tightness in my stomach. I feel sick.

How had it gotten to this point?

I hated trying on clothes. Any thoughts I had about me having a sliver of attractiveness, was dashed out the window every time I stepped into one of those badly lightened cubicles of horror.

I had been doing so well. Eating better. Well the cheeky pizza, burger, packet of crisps and car of chocolate here and there, but why couldn’t I, thin people ate that shit too it wasn’t fair.

I had even started running and the breathlessness had stopped.

I felt good. Well that was until now.

Begrudgingly, I take off the dress and let it fall to the floor.

The tears begin to fall uncontrollably and I sink to the floor.

The flabby figure continues to stare back at me.

I want nothing more than to punch her, and keep punching until the fat fell off.

I hated her.

I hated that I had become her.

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16.08.18

Wet and soggy. I felt gross. Like fucking shit.

My back was completely soaked.

I put my headphones in my ears and slowly opened the front door with my key, making sure not to let my keys jingle too much.

Another sharp kick, hit me in my ovaries; my cramps were on fire today. I was not in the mood for any kind of shit, especially not from him.

I hated everything about him. His face, his voice, his presence. That little smirk he made when he thought he had won.

Don’t let him get to you, they would tell me. He’s not worth it.

Of course I knew he wasn’t fucking worth it. It was all good and well putting your two cents together when you were on the outside. But this was my life, my everyday existence.

I couldn’t get away from it. His condensation, his fucking smarmy ways. I was the fucking obedient nodding dog, who kept my lips shut and agreed to everything he said.

How had he survived for so long? Weakness, roared hotly inside of my head, she was weak.

She made me sick. She was everything I didn’t want to be.

A reoccurring fear kept visiting me. What if her and I, were one in the same? What if I made the same mistakes that she had? That when I finally found someone, I too would stumble and fall, and accept every lie, every misstep, due to the fear of being alone.

My chest felt tight.

I closed the door and took my key out of the lock. I turned up the music and turned right back around.

14.08.18

Sometimes, I forget I’m not really alone.

That I don’t have to carry all this burden alone.

But I’m a warrior, I’m a strong independent Queen. I’m not allowed to be vulnerable, I can never show weakness. I have to wear this mask and allow everyone else feel comfortable in my presence.

I can’t allow this mask to slip. Never show them the real you, no matter how much pain you are in.

It’s what I’ve always been told, it’s what I’ve always known.

I have to be proud. I have to be strong.

I’ve built up this mantra so much inside, that it’s hard to believe anything else. To see myself as anything else.

Weakness is a failure.

Why would I want to show anyone that? Why would I want someone to see me as less than.

You must always show your best side! At all times. Period.

How can I be strong, yet show others the things that tear me apart?

It doesn’t make sense.

But do I want to keep feeling this way? Do I want to continue slipping downwards? Feeling like shit just to keep up a facade.

Or do I want to feel free, share my vulnerabilities and work on ways to rebuild?

Questions.

14.08.18

Sometimes, I forget I’m not really alone.

That I don’t have to carry all this burden alone.

But I’m a warrior, I’m a strong independent Queen. I’m not allowed to be vulnerable, I can never show weakness. I have to wear this mask and allow everyone else feel comfortable in my presence.

I can’t allow this mask to slip. Never show them the real you, no matter how much pain you are in.

It’s what I’ve always been told, it’s what I’ve always known.

I have to be proud. I have to be strong.

I’ve built up this mantra so much inside, that it’s hard to believe anything else. To see myself as anything else.

Weakness is a failure.

Why would I want to show anyone that? Why would I want someone to see me as less than.

You must always show your best side! At all times. Period.

How can I be strong, yet show others the things that tear me apart?

It doesn’t make sense.

But do I want to keep feeling this way? Do I want to continue slipping downwards? Feeling like shit just to keep up a facade.

Or do I want to feel free, share my vulnerabilities and work on ways to rebuild?

Questions.

12.08.18

I welcome the sweet release of death.

I welcome the end to my pain and the end to my unhappiness.

I will no longer have to wear a mask or live with a facade.

I welcome death.

I welcome the finally of it all. No longer feeling suffocated in a life that I didn’t ask for.

No longer feeling alone and not having a hand to reach out for.

Happiness won’t mean anything anymore. It won’t be the lifelong goal that drives me forward.

Feelings will no longer exist.

I welcome death.

11.08.18

They say bad things happen in threes.

Well more than three bad things had happened in the past few hours and I was starting to think that I was cursed.

Bad things were happening to me and I had gotten to the stage where I didn’t believe in luck anymore.

I had woken up this morning and bumped my head and then I had fallen asleep at work due to said bump on the head and gotten a warning. My phone had then fallen down and the screen shattered, my lunch had exploded in the microwave. And that was just one fifth of the things that had happened.

All I wanted to do was lay down and wish this whole day away. And hope that my good fortune would return.

10.08.18

I’m trapped up here in this cage and you are my warden.

There are so many ways that I despise you, but listing them out would give you validation and I don’t want that.

I don’t want you to seem more important than you are.

Because to me you are no one. You are nothing. Nothing but an annoying bug that won’t stop buzzing around.

Why don’t you leave. Find someone else to shack up with. Your presence here is no longer needed.

You have no importance.

You walk around like a bad smell making everyone unhappy.

Times were great when you weren’t here. We were all happy, we lived, we breathed, we got on with life. You are not needed and nor are you wanted.

But with most things you can’t take a hint.

Every night you walk back through that door.

Your dragon breath firing threats toward me because you believe that you call the shots.

Turning me into a prisoner so I don’t have to see your face and hear your unimportant words trickle into my ears.

I just wish you would fuck off, fuck off and leave us alone and allow us to thrive without you.

09.08.18

His fists tightened as he moved towards her.

He didn’t want to do this. He never did.

Life was hard. All he wanted to do was sit down relax and take a breather. But she wouldn’t let him would she? She was always on at him. Nag, nag fucking nag.

Constantly pushing his buttons. It’s like she did it on purpose. Pushing him to the edge until he exploded.

She didn’t understand him. Didn’t understand the pressure that he was under. Why couldn’t she just be understanding? Why couldn’t she see that he was hurting?

She cowered near the wall. Tears streaming down her face. She was shaking.

He hated doing this, he didn’t want to. It wasn’t him. It was all her. She made him see red. If she didn’t go on at him so much, then he wouldn’t. He would stop. He wouldn’t have too.

His knuckles stung. The skin at the corner of his hand had ripped as it made contact with bone.

His breathing calmed and he sat down.

“You know I love you,” he spoke again, his tone softer now.

08.08.18

The feeling of disgust battles through me on the odd occasion and no matter how many affirmations I throw at it, it just won’t leave.

It picks me apart bit by bit. You’re too fat. You’re ugly. You have too many spots. Your hair is shit.

Attack after attack, after attack. It’s no wonder I’m so messed up.

It’s a little demon that I just can’t get rid off, and when it leaves best believe it won’t be long before it returns ready to rip me to more shreds.

Digging its heels deeper and deeper into my back.

I pray for a day that I can pick it up and kick it away so hard that it shatters to pieces.

I’m trying to get strong, day by day I’m building up my armour until it becomes impenetrable.

Until those whispers of discontent are nothing more than faint, inaudible bleeps in the wind.

07.08.18

As I lay here on this broken shitty bed, I started to contemplate my life. Where it was going and what I was doing.

Nothing and nowhere.

I was mad, angry and tired, all three at the same time.

Why was life like this, what had I done?

My head and heart felt busted and bruised.

This wasn’t supposed to be my life, it was supposed to be better, I deserved better.

Sparks of red and black, were all I could see, my vision was no longer clear.

If I wasn’t crying, I was punching walls.

I felt like I was being set up, that someone was playing a cruel trick on me and that this life belonged to a mean nasty person. Not me.

You’ve got the wrong person I felt like screaming.

But was I the wrong person? Was I actually the bad person who actually deserved this life?

It was way too puzzling to answer.