Well folks if you were looking for some beautifully written post that is just chalked full of optimism, you might as well hit the back button now because this post certainly is not going to be the epitome of happiness. But what this post IS going to be is the honest truth. It will reveal to you the inner turmoil that is slowly eating me alive and what it is really like to be trapped in this wretched body of a mine – a body with a broken heart, a broken soul, and most definitely a broken mind.
First let’s start talking about my revolting weight and whale-like physique. Every time I look in the mirror, I am surprised the glass doesn’t spontaneously shatter because I am absolutely hideous. Fat hangs off my body like sobbing wet clothes hang from a clothes line. My cheeks are chubby and resemble the disgustingly plump cheeks of a chipmunk. Oh and don’t even get me started with my thunder thighs. I mean, I BARELY HAVE A BEAUTIFUL THIGH GAP ANYMORE!!!! In order to cope with my ghastly figure and physical features, I began restricting my caloric intake. Not drastically of course because if I were to return to my anorexic diet, my parents and outpatient treatment team will certainly noticed and promptly send me to some “let’s-make-you-fat” camp (aka a treatment center). Plus, restricting my calories really isn’t that hard to do because I barely get hungry anymore. My physical health has continued to deteriorate due to the mystery illness (that’s right, the freaking doctors STILL don’t know what the hell is wrong with me). Eating makes me incredibly nauseous and it is actually painful to consume much of anything.
Since we are on the topic, let’s just start talking about my physical health. I have become incredibly frustrated and disappointed with the doctors. They all said they know something is wrong with me because my test results are quite bizarre, but they can’t give me a definitive diagnosis. I feel like I am going to go crazy. The pain in my bones makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry. The constant flu-like symptoms make me want to stay in bed and sleep till the day pigs play. And the weird bruise-like dots that cover my legs fill me with fear and anxiety. I don’t know what is wrong with my body. Every single day, I feel worse. I have stopped hoping that things will improve because I have been struggling with this mysterious ailment for so many months. I just want to see a doctor who listens and who can help me feel like a happy, pain-free teenager again!
Gosh, this post has literally been all over the map . . . hasn’t it? I just have so much frustration and anger trapped inside me. This is really the only way I can let it all out. I wish I could have provided you with a better post and I am sorry it is so depressing. I will make a better one soon and maybe even a video . . . but due to my body image issues right now, making a video is beyond challenging.