A ray of hope

     This wallow in self-pity has to stop. So I'm going to post something positive.
     I own two pairs of jeans. One is lighter blue, and is very comfortable. I wear the heck out of this pair. The other is a darker indigo color. They look awesome, and I love that they aren't as baggy as most jeans in my size. But they're just a little snug, so I don't west them as often. But I wore my dark jeans to work last night, because I needed a change. And they fit!
     I don't know what words can describe how stupidly happy I was when I realized that my pants weren't pinching at my waist. I don't know what I'm doing to lose weight, but I hope I keep doing it! I know my value isn't tied to my weight, and I've been this size for about five years, but I'm sick of being this large.

     It took me a year to fit into a size 22 comfortably. I'm going to try to be in a size 20 by spring. My ultimate goal (since 2000) has between to get back to a size 16. It would be nice to buy clothes that aren't plus-sized.
     It's the week where I eat the crap I have in the cupboard, but I get paid on Friday, and I have a new grocery list app on my phone. So now I write up a menu and shopping list that I can't forget. Emotional setbacks aside, I'm still moving forward. Just a little slower sometimes.

The self-loathing continues

     I'm disgusted with myself. When I was in high school, I lived at least a half hour from all of my friends. I didn't get to hang out like a normal teenager. Weekends were spent at home. I watched TV or read a book, and was happy. I lived on my own. When I didn't have a roommate, there were many times I'd go days without seeing anyone. I was sick in bed for a week without any outside communication, and didn't care. Now, I fall into a bottomless pit of despair if I go two days without having someone to hang out with.
     I was mad at myself for feeling lonely, so I didn't most of last week in a mass of rage. So this weekend, I decided to let myself actually be sad about it. That resulted in my crying for almost two hours. That merely resulted in me getting a massive headache. So I accepted an invitation to go out with Roomie C. I had a panic attack and made everyone leave early. (I won't believe they wanted to go too.)
     I hate this. I don't feel any better today. I've tried ignoring the sadness. I've tried cheering myself up. I tried embracing my emotions. I don't feel like myself yet. The longer this lasts, the manner the little voice in my head gets. People tell me things will get better in time, but when? In the meanwhile, my little voice is explaining that no one wants to be around me because I'm unpleasant and moody.
     Fuck that little voice! All it does of make things worse. I don't want to think about why people don't like me. I don't want to feel like I should push my friends away before they start to hate me. Something has to change soon.

I don't like it here

     I cried today. The first time in a long while. I hate this bottomless pit I've been trapped in for so long. I don't know what to do about it, or even what I want anymore.
     It feels like no one notices my suffering. When I see one of my friends is upset, I sometimes have to restrain myself from pestering them till they smile. But I feel like I have to hide from them. I don't want to turn up my music to hide the sound of me crying. I want someone to ask me what's wrong, to actually care about my answer, to let me cry on them.
     Of course, I don't dare seek someone out. I've put too much effort into being the one who will always be ok. But I haven't been that person for a long time. I allowed myself to believe my own lie, and I don't know how to function anymore.

All by myself

Do you ever fell alone in a crowd? Even when surrounded by the people you call friends? I feel that way all too often. I don't know why. There is just something inside me that won't let me believe that they really want to be around me. I don't know when this really started.
I never had a lot of friends growing up. When I joined any kind of club out group, I always found myselfon the fringes of everything. Nothing I could do would get me into the "inner circles." Even in adulthood, I've found a wonderful group of people, buy there is always that little voice inside that tells me they only tolerate me because of who I know, or that they only want something from me. It's a terrible feeling. It doesn't help that I had someone on my life that told me I was merely tolerated, and that these weren't really "my" friends. I've come to know differently, but it's hard to believe sometimes. That little voice just won't let me.
I don't like feeling so alone and emotionally isolated. I'm afraid to tell people when something is bothering me. I'm convinced that if I reveal how hurt and scared I am, the few friends I have will vanish. So I suffer in silence. I try to enjoy being around my social circle, but I know I'm holding large portions of myself hidden. I wear a mask that is confident and capable, when I am anything but.