Am I Good Enough?
I’m not the same as you and them. I’m me. I dance to my own tune and try not to notice if it’s a little off-key.
But I still want to fit in and be accepted. It’s a contradiction but that’s just how it works. I look at people around me and envy their lives. Envy their looks, their talents, how they put clothes together, how they always look great in photos, their freedom from the work machine, their friendships.
I don’t like me much. Maybe that’s why I try to distance myself from being a part of the crowd. Maybe that’s why I keep myself to myself a lot. I’m a loner that craves friends. The more time I spend alone, the more depressed I get.
As my depression takes a firmer grip, my eating spirals out of control and my weight goes up and up. And I look in the mirror and hate what I see even more. I struggle to find any clothes that fit and curl up in a ball and cry when I notice the fat deposits building up under my knees. I eat because I don’t like me and then like me less because the eating makes me fatter. An evil vicious circle.
At the start of December, I decided to start to face it head on. I would exercise more. Two or three times a week I would power walk (I’m not a runner!) for as long as I could fit in. It would address the lack of fresh air, natural daylight and movement my sedentary office job imposes on my life and hopefully the exercise would help release those happy pill-making endorphins in the natural way. And then, just maybe I would lose some of the weight. Start to like me a bit more and find my clothes start to fit again. And set me on the path out of this quagmire.
I started well and have had a good few sessions, but the Christmas indulgence has seen me add another half stone to this already lumpy, bumpy body.
So now I need to get back on track and do this. And I’m going to share these photos of me as I look now in my unmade up and unhidden glory to motivate me into action. Public humiliation for private gain. Please don’t judge me. Give me ideas on how I can do this, but please don’t tell me I look fine as I am. I don’t see that. This is about what I see when I look in the mirror. And if I’ve pressed publish on this post then my heart will already be pounding.