Self-Image

Serenity from this surreality

I want freedom from my mind,

But the clock keeps ticking and tocking,

Destination? Destruction!

My thoughts being the cuckoo that never shuts up,

Smashing the side of my skull,

Scraping away at any hanging hope.

It never shuts up!

For you see the world is a stranger,

Callously creeping from a deep chasm in the darkness of a desolate alley,

Silently stalking,

Watching, but never comforting.

My cuckoo is the only thing I have,

As I desperately delve deep down

For any unconsuming consciousness or concupiscence.

The only thing I have!

Hitting like a hammer, on and on it hounds, hating and hurting,

Thump- You don't want to be

Thump- You'll never make it

Thump- You don't belong

Thump- You shouldn't be,

I am a big square box squeezing into a small circular bucket,

I am a person.

But not as I should be!

Some mom I am...

I am the worst kind of mother. I have given up on life.

How many times have I tried to end it?

One is too many. But three times was not enough.

(Third time was not the charm...)

Now, I am just content for survival's sake.

Just content. Not happy.

I do things simply because I have to. Because it's what's best

For my family.

I justify, I explain, I 

Have simply settled.

Because I know I am nothing now.

I'm no example. No role model.

I don't even pray anymore.

I simply don't know what else to do.

I am not the mom I want to be.

Not the mom they deserve.

Some mom I am.

Extreme self-loathing can distort a person's body image and lead to depression and isolation.

This is her story.

I have no idea how and why I am consumed with self-hatred.

Every day seem so exhausting and painful. I am truly disgusted by myself. Mostly, my body. My hair, arms, legs, and anything on my body is so unattractive. Some days I feel so ugly and unwanted that I lay in bed for hours and cry. I spend a lot of money on makeup so that I will look nice.

Most days I am late for work or class, because I am so insecure about myself that I stare in the mirror for too long or I try over and over and over again to fix the "elements of ugly." My makeup takes almost an hour to do, because I want to hide what I hate.

No matter what, I am truly disgusted by myself.

I really hate my fat body. I always say, "I am a skinny chick living in a fat chick's body." I believe that it is true. I have a theory. My theory is that I am in the wrong body. Everything else is great about me. I am a great friend and lover, really smart, and I have a great personality, but I look like a monster. I hate it.

When I am walking somewhere, I feel so cautious. I feel like everyone is looking at how fat and out-of-breath I am. It exhausts me to write this, it is almost too hard to write. When I am walking or out somewhere, if someones laughs I get paranoid because I think they are possibly talking about me and laughing at how ugly and fat I am.

Every since I was a small child, I remembered being bullied about my image. I also noticed how fat I was, how I was larger than all the other children.

I cannot live my life or be happy in this skin. It is so gross.

Everything bad that happens, I blame myself and I always say that if I was beautiful and thin, my life would be better. I would feel good about myself. I could wear beautiful clothes. I would have more friends. I could shop wherever and find clothes in my size. I could walk in confidence knowing that most people admire my thinness and beauty. I could be the loud, funny, smart and desirable girl that everyone would like to say "hello" to.

But instead I am this fat, short, chubby, ugly, gross monster that is always alone. I am gross. In the mirror, my reflection sickens me. I just want to be beautiful. That is all I want.

It is hard to live in skin that you hate.

We all do so much for other people. But do we do enough for ourselves?

Let's take a break for ourselves in March.

How do you take care of yourself, The Band? How do you manage to do the little things when life feels overwhelming?

I came across a video this morning that changed the way I see myself. Honestly.

I'm not writing this to blame anyone. I didn't even realize what was going on until today. I've always bottled things up really tightly, so I can't expect anyone else to notice.

See, here's the thing.

I was always really awkward around people, especially as a kid. I was overweight and way too smart for my own good and didn't take care of myself, (What kid does, really?) and never really figured out the whole "social interaction" thing. As a result, I spent most of my formative years isolating myself and, more importantly, being isolated by other kids.

By the time I became aware of this, I had already internalized the message that I wasn't good enough and wasn't worth helping. It meant that I ended up not liking myself much; I felt like I was a failure of a human being and ended up filtering and twisting everything I experienced to support that conclusion.

I carried this weight with me right through to adulthood in the form of wicked, persistent self-esteem issues that fueled my depression. It also led me to hide my issues, because I figured nobody would really care about what the hell was going on inside my head.

Even after I broke my silence and started trying to help myself, I still struggled with staying motivated enough to do it because I didn't feel like I was worth the effort it took to actually heal myself.

I think that's changed.

Something in that video clicked for me and made me see that it WASN'T MY FAULT that I ended up like that. I always blamed myself for my depression and self-image issues, but looking back I can see how they actually came about. I picked up the "you're worthless" message from the isolation I experienced and fully assimilated that into my internal monologue.

I feel like a puzzle piece has clicked into place.

I couldn't start changing until I figured out why I hated myself so much. Now that that's happened? Well, let's just say I think I'm ready to move on and maybe, just maybe, start really learning to like myself.

***

Band Back Together has been nominated for Best Group or Community Weblog in the 2013 Bloggies! Visit their site to vote and check out the other categories!

Someone once told me that you only know me as much as I want you to.

I've been thinking about that a lot lately. It’s true. I only let you in as far as I’m comfortable and when I meet someone who wants to be let in, I freeze up. I choke.

I’m very guarded. I’m afraid that if someone truly gets to know me, they will find something they don’t like and get the hell out of Dodge, leaving me with an empty chest, a broken heart. Was I abandoned as a child? No. Did I have an unhappy home life? No. Did I have anything traumatic happen to me as a child? I suppose.

I was always a little wild.

I was a difficult child to handle. I was willful, loud, and precocious. I FELT so much, but at an early age, it was drilled into my head that you keep your feelings to yourself. Ladies act a certain way. Maybe it was my stuffy Anglo heritage. Stiff upper lip, child. Never let them see you sweat. Don’t cry, only babies cry. You’re too loud! Stop having so much fun. I was the black sheep. I didn't fit in. I was different.

I was always a creative person, a person full of passion, until I was diagnosed with Anxiety and Depression in my 20’s, after a bad breakup. It’s amazing that it took so long for that diagnosis since I’d been dealing with emotional issues since I was a child.

They put me on medication and slowly but surely, I felt the creativity and passion being drained from me. They told me I was doing better and I believed them. I was in a fog, a bland and boring fog. I was numb. I was tired of feeling SO much that it was a welcome respite. I learned to cope and for years, I let the medication stuff my feelings down my throat, keeping everything inside so far down that I forgot myself.

I LOST myself.

A few years ago, I decided to stop the medication. I was tired of not FEELING anything. It’s taken a couple of years for me to feel like a real person, but what I’m left with now is that I don’t know who I AM.

I seemingly lost that creative, passionate, and wild little girl. She peeks out every once in a while and I promptly shove her back down into my belly before anyone can see too much of her, but she’s had enough of that. She wants to live and breathe on the outside.

She wants to speak, to be heard, to be acknowledged. She wants to let her hair down and dance wildly without a care. She wants to be loved so passionately that she can’t think. She wants to live a life full of joy, passion, and creativity.

Every day, I try to let her out a little more. It’s hard because the people that I’ve known for decades don’t know this girl. She’s been hidden for so long. Am I afraid that I won’t like the real me? Yes. Am I afraid that others won’t like the real me? Petrified. But I’m done with putting others' feelings in front of my own.

It’s my turn.

I’ve waited so long for this and I deserve it.

***

Band Back Together has been nominated for Best Group or Community Weblog in the 2013 Bloggies! Visit their site to vote and check out the other categories!