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Inadequate
Most people are unaware of the human feelings on the other side of the screen.
On November 4th 2007 the world lost it's sunshine, in the form of my brother Edward. People would think I'd be over it by now, but I still find myself in this low spot... everything seems duller here and it blocks my view of the world.
I am not incapable of being happy. I can become elated. I can laugh, I can play, I can tease. But deep inside of me there is still this pit of dread and unwant. When I am alone and there are no distractions I find myself poking at my imperfections. My weight. My awkwardness. My inability to cope with my feelings. People would say, "You just need more confidence."
Any confidence inspired within me is often short lived and crushed by memories of taunts and torture.
I can still hear my brother telling me I'd never amount to anything but a pole dancer. Practicing ballet made me a whore, along with going for walks in my leotard. Running away from harsh yelling made me a pussy. For a long time I believed it.
I think it has marked me forever, a scar that makes me incapable of truly seeing a beautiful girl in the mirror. Any beauty that I may have previously believed I had was snatched away from me when one of the few people who made me feel good about myself was really with someone else. I can't call it cheating, I guess we were never really dating to begin with. He just pitied me, didn't want me to kill myself because I was so sick of feeling wrong. Bad.
I started seeking out comfort in anorexia. I figured maybe if I was pretty that would be one less inadequacy to pick at. But I guess, in a most literal sense, I fail at failing. I can't keep myself from eating. Occasionally I can fast for one, maybe even two days. And just as suddenly as I started I find my fist in a cookie jar, my lips around a bottle of soda.
And I continue to feel inadequate.
And the cycle continues.
I suppose it wouldn't be so bad if I had friends I could put my feelings into. I wouldn't want to hurt my friends anymore, though. They all have their own depressing lives to deal with. I wouldn't want to burden them with the weight of another hurting friend. What could they do, anyway? Pat my back? Tell me it'll be alright? Take me to the counselor? I don't like confiding my feelings in any specific person, especially adults. I really don't like sympathy, either.
I just wish the sun would shine more often.
Light my way to happier times... |
Posted: 8:42 PM, 2008-Oct-16 |
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