"My brain...hates me. My brain is a jerk. If my brain were a person, it would be a bully who follows me around ALL THE TIME."
-Some Comedian
14 November 2009
27 October 2009
I'm really tired. Not as much physically as mentally. I really just want to go unconscious and wake up in the hospital somewhere, in a nice, warm bed and a nice nurse to give me an IV before I go to sleep.
I know, it's weird, but I am really tired. I have to get the furniture from my old house and move it into my new house, so right now I am on the ground in a blanket, waiting for the movers to get the furniture out of my old house and bring it here. I don't want the movers around; they are both young looking young men who I would probably think are hot if my BDD didn't force me to be asexual when in face-to-face relationships. I don't want them to look at me; while my uncle was having them move all of the old furniture out of this house, I stayed in the guest bedroom all day. But I can't do that right now because Amber might come home tonight.
I'm really tired. I'm bad at dealing with things like this, needless to say.
I don't want to wake up tomorrow. I don't want to put make-up on my face (like it'll help) I don't want to put hair spray in my frizzy-ass hair, I don't want to put clothes on my fat body, I don't want to weigh myself three times and check my face in three or more different mirrors. I just want to hide. The world would thank me.
I know, it's weird, but I am really tired. I have to get the furniture from my old house and move it into my new house, so right now I am on the ground in a blanket, waiting for the movers to get the furniture out of my old house and bring it here. I don't want the movers around; they are both young looking young men who I would probably think are hot if my BDD didn't force me to be asexual when in face-to-face relationships. I don't want them to look at me; while my uncle was having them move all of the old furniture out of this house, I stayed in the guest bedroom all day. But I can't do that right now because Amber might come home tonight.
I'm really tired. I'm bad at dealing with things like this, needless to say.
I don't want to wake up tomorrow. I don't want to put make-up on my face (like it'll help) I don't want to put hair spray in my frizzy-ass hair, I don't want to put clothes on my fat body, I don't want to weigh myself three times and check my face in three or more different mirrors. I just want to hide. The world would thank me.
Fasting...I know it's bad for me.
I'm having an extremely low-calorie day today.
The BDD is kicking my ass. I feel like crap, I think I look like crap, and we're having moving people over because my uncle is taking all of my shit. Thank you, that furniture was really getting in the way of my living. So right now I'm hiding in the guest room, the only room they are not taking things out of, so I can avoid having the moving people look at me, since I am not wearing make up. (of course I'm wearing concealer, when am I not wearing concealer. I don't even count that as make-up any more.) I feel fat because I ate so much yesterday, I must have eaten 2 days worth of calories. I don't even want to look up the nutritional information of what I ate, but I know I'll have to.
I really cannot eat right now. It's impossible.
The BDD is kicking my ass. I feel like crap, I think I look like crap, and we're having moving people over because my uncle is taking all of my shit. Thank you, that furniture was really getting in the way of my living. So right now I'm hiding in the guest room, the only room they are not taking things out of, so I can avoid having the moving people look at me, since I am not wearing make up. (of course I'm wearing concealer, when am I not wearing concealer. I don't even count that as make-up any more.) I feel fat because I ate so much yesterday, I must have eaten 2 days worth of calories. I don't even want to look up the nutritional information of what I ate, but I know I'll have to.
I really cannot eat right now. It's impossible.
24 October 2009
Morgan D. can die.
It's hard for me to listen to music. I don't know why...I really enjoy music and everything, but some songs just break my heart. Probably because every song is about love, or jealousy, or want, and it just reminds me that I will never have anybody love me, be jealous of me, or want me. Depressing thought, huh?
Yeah, exactly. It's really nice.
On a slightly different thread of thought, today I was hanging out with my friend at the park. I dropped something, and a child picked it up and then ran over to keep playing with her friend. After the person I was with commented about how nice that was, I decided to project my thoughts out and say "Yeah, she's probably thinking about how ugly I am right now." I didn't realize there was something weird about that until I saw the look on her face...it was pretty priceless. What's weird is that, I didn't know that other people didn't think this way. What is it like to not assume that every person that sees you is thinking about how ugly you are?
And Morgan, you can go fuck yourself with something hard and sand-papery.
Yeah, exactly. It's really nice.
On a slightly different thread of thought, today I was hanging out with my friend at the park. I dropped something, and a child picked it up and then ran over to keep playing with her friend. After the person I was with commented about how nice that was, I decided to project my thoughts out and say "Yeah, she's probably thinking about how ugly I am right now." I didn't realize there was something weird about that until I saw the look on her face...it was pretty priceless. What's weird is that, I didn't know that other people didn't think this way. What is it like to not assume that every person that sees you is thinking about how ugly you are?
And Morgan, you can go fuck yourself with something hard and sand-papery.
22 October 2009
BDD, or not BDD? That is the question.
Sometimes, I don't feel like I legitimately have any "disorder" or whatever. I feel that, I don't think I'm that bad-looking. Sure, I don't like the way I look, but I'm not pretty, so I shouldn't. I'm just average, at best, and I know that. That doesn't mean I have any disorder or need deep psychological therapy. Yeah, I know that my therapist knows what she's talking about and that all of the "symptoms" are there, but, maybe I'm the exception. Maybe they are called for, if that makes sense. Yes, I have my bad days in which I feel absolutely horrible and disgusting, but honestly, who doesn't? Most other days I just feel simply unattractive. Maybe, that's reality. People always say that more unattractive, plain, or average people need to know they are unattractive, plain, and average. Okay, they don't outright say it, but they tease the unattractive, plain, and average people who don't know they are unattractive, plain, and average. So, really, I'm doing the world a favor.
I really don't feel this to be abnormal in any way. I feel this to be completely normal and I'm just wasting my and other peoples time by even bothering to bring it up.
I really don't feel this to be abnormal in any way. I feel this to be completely normal and I'm just wasting my and other peoples time by even bothering to bring it up.
21 October 2009
Self Esteem and Self Perception
I always knew I had a bad body image, but I assumed that that's because I was just fat and ugly, so I deserved to have a low self esteem. I felt like I didn't deserve the things pretty or even average looking girls had, and of course, I developed a neurosis about gaining weight and a fear of excessive calories.
Yesterday, I was told that I have a distorted view of myself.
Today, I can't help but feel like that was a lie.
On one hand, I can accept that it's true, and it makes me feel better to know that what I see in the mirror isn't real, but on the other hand, I can't understand it. I can't deny what I see in the mirror. I'm not schizophrenic, so how can I possibly be seeing things that aren't there? Mirrors show what you look like to other people. This is what I always thought. I can't handle the fact that, inrealmente, they don't.
I don't know if I would still have this problem if I didn't have scars. I never thought I was pretty, if I did think about it, but I never threw up my Fritos one afternoon watching television when I was nine. Would I have developed a distorted view of myself in adolescence even without the car accident? Who knows. I think the scars, in a way, provide an excuse for me to lean on. When I look in the mirror and think I may be nice-looking, I tell myself "But you know the reality underneath the clothes." And I stick with that excuse because it's easier for me to just accept that I look bad than try to think of myself as attractive.
I told my mother, because I thought that would make her watch what she says around me. I deeply regret telling her and seeking her advice on it. (I still feel the need to seek her advice on issues like this, even though I should have learned my lesson long ago.) She says that I'm not disordered, I'm just obsessed with my flaws , and suggested plastic surgery. She says, if I get plastic surgery, that'll make me feel better and that it would go away. What she doesn't get is that being "obsessed with my flaws" is the definition of BDD, nearly verbatum. (I had previously read about BDD, as part of my obsession with eating disordered people. I didn't realize at the time, although I did see the similarites, that I was basically reading about myself.) And while I agree that I do need plastic surgery, I do not agree that getting plastic surgery will make it go away. I feel like it should, but I know that it won't. I will still see myself in the same way, even 28 lbs. lighter and with more even hips.
In conclusion to my little rant, I would like to say that I'm struggling so much with this. I almost like it- I embrace it, like an anoretic- but on the other hand, I don't want it. I want to be like my friend, Chelsea, who weighs the same as I do and eats normal teenage foods without feeling fat and flirts with boys without feeling disgusting. I don't want this to be my reality. How do I get rid of it?
Yesterday, I was told that I have a distorted view of myself.
Today, I can't help but feel like that was a lie.
On one hand, I can accept that it's true, and it makes me feel better to know that what I see in the mirror isn't real, but on the other hand, I can't understand it. I can't deny what I see in the mirror. I'm not schizophrenic, so how can I possibly be seeing things that aren't there? Mirrors show what you look like to other people. This is what I always thought. I can't handle the fact that, inrealmente, they don't.
I don't know if I would still have this problem if I didn't have scars. I never thought I was pretty, if I did think about it, but I never threw up my Fritos one afternoon watching television when I was nine. Would I have developed a distorted view of myself in adolescence even without the car accident? Who knows. I think the scars, in a way, provide an excuse for me to lean on. When I look in the mirror and think I may be nice-looking, I tell myself "But you know the reality underneath the clothes." And I stick with that excuse because it's easier for me to just accept that I look bad than try to think of myself as attractive.
I told my mother, because I thought that would make her watch what she says around me. I deeply regret telling her and seeking her advice on it. (I still feel the need to seek her advice on issues like this, even though I should have learned my lesson long ago.) She says that I'm not disordered, I'm just obsessed with my flaws , and suggested plastic surgery. She says, if I get plastic surgery, that'll make me feel better and that it would go away. What she doesn't get is that being "obsessed with my flaws" is the definition of BDD, nearly verbatum. (I had previously read about BDD, as part of my obsession with eating disordered people. I didn't realize at the time, although I did see the similarites, that I was basically reading about myself.) And while I agree that I do need plastic surgery, I do not agree that getting plastic surgery will make it go away. I feel like it should, but I know that it won't. I will still see myself in the same way, even 28 lbs. lighter and with more even hips.
In conclusion to my little rant, I would like to say that I'm struggling so much with this. I almost like it- I embrace it, like an anoretic- but on the other hand, I don't want it. I want to be like my friend, Chelsea, who weighs the same as I do and eats normal teenage foods without feeling fat and flirts with boys without feeling disgusting. I don't want this to be my reality. How do I get rid of it?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
