Sink into my skin

I don’t know why I haven’t blogged in so long.

Short fake answer: I forget

Long honest answer: I got sick of the terrible messages. Each time I get a hateful anon I delete it when I can tell from the first time that’s laden with hate and caustic vitriol. One blog post of mine where I was simply talking about *enjoying icecream* was re-blogged ad nauseum by people who made fun of what I ate, how much I ate and how fat I am. Now i don’t care if people don’t like me. People don’t usually like me when they see me. I am not a pretty sight and I don’t even look at myself in the mirror sometimes. What upset me was that they hated me simply because I was fat. They said nasty things just because I was fat. I eat icecream. People eat icecream but I guess I deserved their insults because I did it while I was fat

Now I don’t want to leave a long winded answer that digresses from the point I am trying to make, yet at the same time I want to speak of it so I could get it off my chest. Sometimes I forget what I want to say because I repress bad thoughts and emotions when it’s time to express them but I allow them to come to me when I am silent and alone. FALSE CONCERN. I know some people have good intentions. I know some do. OTHERS however pretend to have good intentions when they’re nasty. You’re not helping me when you insult me because I don’t need help nor do you care if I died tonight. You’re trying to find an outlet for an issue you have or maybe insulting people is cathartic to you. I’ve lived with a bully my entire life. Someone who would leave nasty messages on my school stationary and would make her friends say nasty things to me at school and I had to go home and LIVE with that person.  She’d play the game of concerned sister and then treat me like shit later. She didn’t even call me by name at home. She’d spew lies about me to my mother. She’d lie about me to people at school.  She would come home and pretend to be my friend only because she wanted to use me or not get me to talk about shit she did at school. Whenever she would “snitch” or exaggerate the story, she would claim it came from a moral place so I know all about toxic people.

I don’t need love or respect from people who preface their statements with how much they don’t respect me for so and so reason. A human being is supposed to respect everyone by default and everything by default. I have not committed a crime or hurt someone to the point where I had to redeem myself. I don’t owe you anything and you owe me nothing. 

I did

I moved out. 

I moved far away from all the toxicity that I was experiencing.

I am in an entirely different country and continent.

The fight took so long, and my legs were stiff as I was getting off the plane, but I am here now.

It’s been a week and I have not seen everywhere yet, but soon.

I am in Malaysia, btw... that is if anyone cares

A FAT WOMAN IN MALAYSIA? Yes, My friends.

How can I experience Malaysia with only $300 in my wallet?

The first word I learned was Keluar.

Words can express.

Word can express a lot,

but I am running out of words to use.

things to say

While i am right here

about to explode.

LISTEN!

I want your attention.

The things I have to say are important!

Don’t invalidate me by telling me that you know what I am about to say...or pat me on the back and saying that trying is as good enough as doing.

Because all it does is make me feel worse.

Having speech impediments or mental impairments are akin to shackles that bind you on a track where you were told to run.

Don’t tell me that encouragement is all I need.

When I don’t know how to undo this knots that bind me.

“Pick the red one” you say, to me in the dark.

where no one can tell colors apart!

This old woman. Turning 40 in less than a handful of years is still clueless.

Clueless to the point of living.

I don’t know who to talk to about this. I need therapy. I feel like I need to talk to someone about how I am feeling. I feel so sick almost all the time. I feel weak and lethargic. I constantly have suicidal thoughts. 

I feel like I am also losing my grasp with language. I don’t know if this is psychological or something that my body adopted to distract me but I can’t string a proper sentence when I am talking to people. As I was typing this I went through many stages of rewriting the sentences because I felt the grammar and syntax were off. 

I was recently diagnosed with hypothyroidism. Even though I am glad that I have a name for my illness, I am quite upset that it’s not something that can keep me off work or off grid. I wanted to die so bad that when  I got the results of the test back I had a big urge to fight the doctor and tell her that she’s wrong and there was something wrong with me. I am not hypochondriac or anything like that. I am just angry that I am not dying. I am angry that I made it this far in life. I want to die. 

I feel so weak too. I can’t converse with people without feeling small and unwanted. I suck at my job. I suck at everything. SORRRY I AM FAT. SORRY  I AM STUPID. SORRY I AM BARREN. I hate everything about me.

To those assholes who’re making sure that I don’t feel good at all. Who the fuck are you to come and tell me how to be or feel?

You don’t know me. You don’t give a shit about me. All you care about is finding a way to tell me that I am fat and that I am going to die because of my fatness soon. According to you, I won’t die of poverty, loneliness or by simply giving up on live. I will die because  I am fat. According to you, I am fat therefore I should feel bad. Well, no.  I honestly don’t give a shit about people like that. When they reblog me or leave their shitty comments I feel nothing. I am glad that I’ve reached this place. Assholes with false concern don’t matter to me anymore. All they want to do is aggressively advertise that I am disgusting. Too bad it doesn’t pierce me as much as they prayed it does.  To them

It does’t matter that I have a bad job, because all it comes down to is that I am fat.

It doesn't matter that I am in a terrible place emotionally and psychologically because all it comes down to is that I am fat and don’t deserve to feel better.

Am I sick

for telling the wicked

Ah! BACK!