There is so much going on in me that it's like my head is buzzing and whirring and strobe lighting its way through consciousness. I'm overcome by the realizations of my weight, and all the implications surrounding it. Every time I re-realize I get the wind knocked out of me and receive a kick to the heart.
I can't handle realizing how far I have fallen. I don't know how I'll ever fix it all and if I'll ever stop waiting for my life to begin. I feel like I can't tritely start living until I lose weight. I can't be loved until I look human. I've tried so hard and gotten nowhere and I don't know what else to do.
Whenever I talk to him it's a jarring smack back into my fall. I can't ever see him because I've gained a hundred fucking pounds since he knew me last.
The people I want to love me cannot be expected to love what I have become.
The fucked up part is that I love who I am on the inside. It's just that the inside is being separated from the outside by every inch of fat that I gain. All those inches are separating who I am on the inside from who I hate on the outside. And what's worse is that I have the potential to be beautiful.
My youth is being wasted. My beauty feels like it is being wasted. And worst of all, my life feels chained, trapped, suffocated, and fucking wasted. I have to pick myself back up. I have to get my life back. I have to stop dwelling on the fall. Cause I fell and I guess that's all there is to it. And now what? What does one do when they're so far down.