my story.

do you ever have those moments when you wake up, and your chest is so heavy that all you can do is crawl under the bed covers again, and try to force yourself to sleep again, simply in an attempt to sleep through it, well, at least try to sleep through it anyway. yet deep breaths aren’t staving off this crippling anxiety, and we know that our prescription anxiety tablets are becoming less and less effective, to the point where it’s not even worth the effort of getting out of bed to get them.

you feel the onset. i want to die. i want to die. i want to die. i really want to die. die. die. die. die. die.

my head for some reason goes straight to, ‘i’m going to be an ugly fat corpse right now’. i feel like i should starve myself first, so that i at least look like i was doing alright before it all happened, because this body isn’t me, it’s not. yet i let it happen.

not that my body is my hugest issue. i guess it’s really down to not looking like this stranger that looks nothing like me when i get to the end. because that’s what i see when i look in the mirror lately, this other person, a person that i don’t recognise.

the being overweight isn’t the issue, not in the slightest. a body is a pretty body, no matter the shape and size, and i know that people just say that, but i TRULY mean it. it’s just the reflection looking back at me. that’s the killer. that’s the issue. because it just doesn’t look like the me that i have been my entire life. that’s the only reason. on top of that, my hair, face and mannerisms are nothing like ‘me’ either but that’s just too much to deal with right now. baby steps. accelerated baby steps, because right now i am deeply questioning the point of postponing something that’s been hanging over me for a while. waiting for a change. what change? will there be a change?

the fact that this is partly down to me looking good in my coffin, is probably the actual real issue here. but.. i just don’t know how to get around this sordid way of thinking, and outlook on life.

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