day136 - v4.0
i feel often as if i'm living in a sports drama. I'm a seasoned player competing in a tournament I haven't thought twice about. I'm lamenting my boredom when I see some kid across the room. "Finally, a challenge" I think to myself. My excitement burns off as the match goes on and dread pools in my stomach— "This kid is better than me".
That's what it's like, feeling like I've spent 8 years of my life waiting for my perfect self to bloom, and watching someone who just entered the race leave with gold.
I've hated myself for not being skinny since the moment I realised I wasn't. my siblings have it though. not me, and I can't tell if it's just genetics or poor impulse control: a personal failure.
I hate the way my body looks. I wish I weren't so curvy and that all my bones jutted awkwardly. I wish I didn't feel freakishly compelled to binge. or at least that I had the self discipline to...
No. it feels embarrassing. you must see how embarrassing it is. to have my sense of self taken apart so easily.
but I can still be used and in lieu of self worth maybe that's fine, that I can just be hole for a bit. be desired.