18.08.18

The cheers continued. It seemed that everyone was having fun except for me.

I pulled my covers up over my ears to try and drown our the noise, but it was no use. I could still hear everything.

I got up out of bed a trudged out to the kitchen.

The light blinded me as I opened the fridge.

I hated staying in on a Friday night, but then I when I was out I wanted nothing more than to go back home when I was out.

I was never satisfied.

I picked up the mini quiche that had gone off 10 days ago and a half drunk bottle of bubbly and walked back to bed.

This was my kind of fun.

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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.

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.

15.08.18

Dry face. Dry lips. Dry hands. Dry feet.

Every inch of me was dry. My skin was screaming for some form of moisturiser but there was none around.

It was the most torturous feeling, walking around with dry skin. I wasn’t able to just hop out of the shower and go about with my day, so why did I think it was a good idea to shower here?

I mean who doesn’t have moisturiser in their house? That’s actually a sacrilege. It should be a sin not to have a least one tube of body cream in your house.

I felt like crying, real tears were threatening to fall.

I could feel the tightness from all around. It was the worst feeling ever, I felt like I was on fire.

My thoughts turned to the tube that I had placed on my dresser, the night before. It was way to big to fit in my bag, I thought at the time, but I should’ve found a way to make it work.

But living in the land of should’ve wasn’t going to make any difference now; there was no moisturiser in the here and now and there was no way to change that fact.

Begrudgingly, I began to dress and left the bathroom. I gave Godfred a nod goodbye as I stepped back into the room and he muttered a sleep laced bye.

We would be having words later.

Body cream would have to be provided next time if he was to ever expect a sleep over again.

As I made my way to the door, a bottle of Palmer’s Cocoa Butter, wedged in between the side of the bed, caught my eye.

Shaking my head I realised we must’ve knocked it off the dresser when we got in.

It was far too late to apply it now. I would just have to grin and bare it until I got home.

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.

13.08.18

You tried to break me.

Tried to knock me over when my defences were down.

Well I’m here to tell you, you will never win this war.

Blood runs deeper than water.

If it’s a war you want, then it’s a war you will get.

I’m not like your usual opponents. I’m sneaky. My attacks are never big. I attack small and when you will least expect it, one minute your sitting pretty and then BAM! You ain’t sitting pretty no more.

So come on if you think you’re hard enough.

If you think you are really ready to dance out this battle.

Because there can only be one winner and my friend.

I never lose.

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.