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.



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.


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.


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.


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.


I miss you.

I can’t remember my life before you came into it and now we barely speak.

You would always be the first person I wanted to see and speak to whenever something big happened.

I always envisioned us growing old together, laughing about our shared experience and reminiscing.

I’ve missed out on so much of your life and now I feel like I barely know you.

I miss our laughter, our tears, I even miss your hard hugs.

I just want my friend back.



Stop your shoulders from rocking. Wipe your tears away.

The shit that falls out of your mouth is just that shit.

I can’t believe I lasted so long in this, like it was a win a car competition.

Fuck your sorry and fuck you.

I won’t fall for it, not this time.

I’m not leaving you, you’re leaving me. Leaving my life and vacating this lie.

I won’t be the guilty one.

I won’t be the one that looks bad.

I won’t be the one that didn’t try and make it work. That didn’t try hard enough.

No you won’t make me the villain. Not this time.


A wolf in sheep’s clothing is sleeping next to me.

In the daylight he whispers sweet nothings in my ears, but by night he turns into a different person.

Gone is the man that stole my heart and in his place is the man that stole my life.

Bound to him by a metal circle, I am his prisoner.

The love that used to radiate from me, has now turned cold. Instead the dark smell of hatred sits in its place.

I hate how much I hate him. I want nothing to be free of him.

Some nights I dream of killing him in his sleep. I imagine placing my hands around his neck and squeezing until I hear a pop. I think of his eyes never opening again and never again having to hear his voice. His whiny nasally voice that is nails on a chalkboard to me. The feeling of relief knowing that I will finally be free.

But I never act upon my urges. I lay there until sleep takes me away, listening to the rise and fall of his breath. Tears staining my pillow, knowing that I will be locked away with him forever, knowing there will never be an escape for me.


I’m a happiness sucker.

I see people who are happy and because I don’t experience it myself, I wish nothing but misery on them.

I don’t want others to experience emotions that I no longer feel or have ever experienced.

If I am unable to experience the small chills of joy through my own body, why should anyone else.

If I am destined to walk in gloom, so should every one else.

So yes, I roll my eyes when I see people wrapped up in public displays of affection. Yes, I sigh loudly when I see a group of people in the midst of laughter.

So what if I’m jealous. It will never make me change my ways. I forever and always will be a happiness sucker.


I am here.

But am I really?

I haven’t felt here, for such a long time.

Sometimes I feel like I’m drifting along. Life doesn’t feel like it belongs to me anymore. I feel like I’m a puppet in someone’s wicked puppet show.

That, they are taking out the worst scenarios that could ever happen to an individual and placing them all onto me.

Maybe I’m really part of a simulation and one day the game will come to an end.

But until then I’ll keep on drifting and maybe one day I’ll feel like me again.