Pride vs Self-Loathing: Why I Need to Lose Weight


Let’s face it, I’m screwed up. I was bullied all my childhood, manipulated into stripping on cam from the ages of fourteen to sixteen, my mind separated into what could almost have been called Dissociative Identity Disorder, and I even dealt with a mild form of PTSD. I wanted to kill myself three times, each time getting very close to actually attempting it.

I’m massively screwed up. Even to this day, I have a hard time speaking up in person about anything personal–and, the only time I do, it’s pretty much only with someone I’ve known forever. In school, I’m lucky if I raise my hand willingly once a week. I’m that shy.

So, what I need to do is make myself better. I need to turn myself into someone who, even though I’ll probably never get past the whole I’m-more-interesting-to-talk-to-than-everyone-else stage of my mentality, will be brave enough to actually be less of a wallflower. I’m tired of fading into the background, and feeling like air.

I need to get more confident, so the only way I can think of is positive affirmations–with my healthier lifestyle. I’ll feel a lot better when I am no longer living with a Body Mass Index (BMI) of…insert a number here that sits pretty solidly in the ‘obese’ range, not just overweight. When I get down to my goal weight of 150, I will be able to look back at myself and realize just how much I accomplished.

That, darlings, will be 50 pounds lost.

Once I get down to 150, I might even go further–whatever it takes to love myself again.

I really don’t love myself, which is…not good in a relationship. You can’t love someone else unless you love yourself, as the saying goes. I still see, all too well, the amount of times I’ve failed–and the realization that I weigh so very much is not something that helped me like me.

I have to admit that I feel better about myself now that I’ve lost weight, though–the fact that I’m changing is certainly helping me feel better.

I just wish that I could go back in time, and shake myself. Stop myself from ever getting this far–both in weight, and in emotions. I want to genuinely trust myself again, and have faith I won’t get too far. I haven’t felt that I can trust myself in a very long time.

A part of me wishes I could go back, and stop myself from being abused. So I wouldn’t deal with intimacy issues, fear, and a need to be abused. So I wouldn’t deal with feeling like I was nothing unless I was lusted after.

The rest of me?

It’s glad I got the kick in the pants I needed to be awake, and more aware of myself. It’s glad I’ve got the anger to fuel my self-improvement, as well as a deep need for change. It’s glad I got the ability to mature and improve, from making so large a mistake.

Still, that doesn’t mean I’m secure in myself. I NEED to feel needed, quite a bit. I don’t feel well unless I’m loved.

Maybe one day I’ll get past it?


One day, I WILL get past it.

One day, I will be both proud of, and love, myself.


You Broke Me Down (But I Got Back Up)


You probably still brag

About that girl you broke–

That girl, that little dark-haired girl…..

Who you tore in two.

You ripped out her soul,

Destroyed her childhood, and

Robbed her of innocence.

You shaped her

Into a tool you could use–

Something you could abuse,


And cause

To mistrust

Absolutely everything

In her life.

You took away her sense

Of her own self.

You made her second-guess


Love, relationships,

Her every choice and mood.

You took away her ability

To breathe without

Fear of being seen.


I imagine

You still brag

About how you made her cry.

About how you tore her soul apart–

You probably still brag,

And still remember,

How you made her


To die,

Just to escape you.


I imagine

You never forgot,

About me–

The girl you used until she

Couldn’t breathe


The girl you stole

From her heart and home–

Just to make her be

What you wanted her

To be.


I’m sorry, but that….

That isn’t me.

I’m able to breathe,

Able to see.

I’m dancing and smiling,

Proud of myself.

My body is improving,

My life is improving.

I’m getting better and better.


You keep bragging,

You keep mocking–

You’ll just keep

Lagging behind me

As I run.


I’m so much better than you–

Be proud of me,

You broken man.


Be proud of me,

As I destroy your soul

The way

You destroyed mine.

I Suppose I’m More than Delighted


The dangers were clear–

Excess skin, exhaustion, and depression.

Starvation mode–something I got close to hitting,

For real.

The dangers were clear.

My friends were supportive.

My lover…less so.

I knew there were problems,

But I knew I would be different–

I had faith in myself to make it.

Weight loss is something I can attain.

Three pounds, more than what I expected

In only a few days.

I can do this,

I know I can–

It hurts,

It aches,

But it feels so good.

I’m more than


With the things

I have managed to do.

Even if my darling man

Doesn’t think I have anything to lose–

I’m happy

I’m different.