Ugly, bloated and lonely 

** TRIGGER WARNING  ** 

I feel ugly, bloated and huge.  Food is beginning to disgust me again, like it did a few years ago when I’d purposely try to starve myself.  I was living with S at the time though and she knew that I wasn’t eating and it upset her. I  sometimes went days without eating, but that’s all I could get away with. I’m just as disgusted with my body as I was then, only now I don’t have to worry about anyone worrying about me.   I want the remaining muscle in my shoulders and arms to waste away.   I want my ugly bloated belly to disappear. I want to be able to see my ribcage.  If I weren’t so tall, I wouldn’t be as concerned.  But when I had to wear my ugly coat yesterday because it was cold, I looked like a monster.   I’m not going to subject myself to shock starvation, but I have to do this.   I don’t want to nourish this disgusting ugly body so that it can get bigger and uglier.
I have to go to therapy this afternoon. I’m not sure what to talk about, as I feel like a broken record. Loneliness, anxiety, self-hatred, dysphoria,my inability to connect with others, depression and suicidal ideation are problems that won’t go away.  There’s nothing that he can do but listen.

I finished reading Safe Haven last night.  The ending brought me to tears, then I started thinking about missing S and how I’ll never find love, so the tears didn’t stop.  I’d gone to read in the common room and I couldn’t leave there until I had stopped crying.  I couldn’t face going back to my apartment, so I sat on one of the benches in the lobby and buried my ugly head in my hands.  I started crying again and my ugly nose started running, which made me more embarrassed than crying did.   I went to one of the bathrooms on the first floor and saw my ugly reflection in the mirror.  Eyeliner had streaked down my ugly face on both sides from crying so much.   I wiped it off and ran back to my apartment.   I’m pretty sure someone saw how awful I looked.

I just wish that I had someone. I hate the feeling of crying alone, with no one there to comfort me.  Sometimes I quite literally can’t stop crying when I’m alone and it’s a horrible feeling.  The pain doesn’t go away and I’ve cried myself to sleep many times, waking up feeling dreadful the next morning.

My life has turned out to be worse than I’d ever imagined as a child and teenager.   I knew that finding love would be difficult, but I didn’t think that I’d end up without it. I didn’t think I’d end up with no friends, unemployed and I never thought I would give in to my gender identity, because I knew it would make life impossible.   I knew from a very early age that an ugly boy could never be a girl.   I was aware of it, but all I wanted to he was normal.  I wanted to he like my parents and like other parents.

The only good thing that has ever happened to me was meeting S.  I don’t know how or why she fell in love with me, but I trusted her and I trusted myself to just go with it.  She gave me the best years of my life, despite our many problems.  I wish I could tell her how grateful I am for all that she gave me.  I actually had some semblance of a life for a while, rather than an existence.  I hated what I was, not she loved me and I had 2-3 friends who were real friends., including S’s brother, who was more of a brother to me than any of my related brothers.  Her mother took me in as one of her own and treated me with respect and kindness.

I’ve said enough for now anyway. Writing about this stuff is necessary, but it is also very painful.  I don’t want to start crying again, especially as I have to get ready to go, because I don’t want to be in this apartment alone.

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Author: Becca

Dead to the world, dead inside.

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