every day i fight a war against the mirror...can't take the person staring back at me
10:24 pm - June 25, 2003

I spent about four hours today absolutely fucking hating myself, and the hours after those, I was just in a bad place. Do you know how hard it is to find a bathing suit that fits when you're not a size 6 that doesn't make you look like you're 70? Don't you dare fucking complain about being fat or looking fat or feeling fat because you don't even know. I hate what I've done to myself, what I've ignored and let slip, the inhibitions I feel strangled by.

I hated looking in the mirrors surrounded by neon lights. My hair was frizzy, my skin shiny and red and very unclear, my stomach and legs and arms overpowering any sense of worth and pride I had to begin with. I hate that other people take being happy with their bodies for granted and I hate that people who have never been a size above an eight or ten think they're fat. That's such fucking bullshit and you can tell them over and over that they're wrong, that they're thin and pretty and perfect and they might say they believe you but they don't, and before you know it it's back to the same old goddamn thing. If you're fat well then what the fuck does that make me?

I don't let this out very often because it pushes me down to this hellish place inside myself when I can't find anything about myself that I like. A place where I cry and feel empty and useless and where nothing makes me feel better, not my favorite songs, or hugs, and most certainly not words. I can't take this, I can't keep doing this to myself. My eyes are already irritated by some unknown allergy or something and crying makes them sting, but I can't stop. I can't stop any of it. It never stops, I've just gotten good at pretending.

Today fucking sucked