Hate, Venting, Self-Loathing, Etc.

Well readers, I admit it has been far too long since my last post.  As all of my postings are, they are too few and far between.

I've been lost in a sea of my own thoughts, and I find that if I immerse myself too long in the slow, lazy waves of that huge sea of introspection, I have a tendency to get all kinds pruney in the form of wrinkly introspection.

I find myself looking in the mirror for a ridiculous amount of time.  Why?  Why do I do this?  Why do I have to stand and analyze the different things about my face and my body?  I don't necessarily look at the things I would change, or the things I hate, or even the things I like about myself.  I just....stare.

Geez I sound so self-absorbed.  It seems the time I get the most self-loathing done is during times when I can't actually see myself.  Lying in bed, showering, driving, checking the mail, just random times like that.

This is the asinine truth of it all.  I hear at least once a day from random strangers that I am beautiful.  I have beautiful hair, deliciously smooth skin, a wonderful smile, a nice rack, I've literally heard it all, and continue to hear it on a regular basis.  I think I was an ugly, chubby little girl, and then an ugly, awkward teenager for so long, that when I finally grew up and my acne cleared up and I started to curve out, I guess I missed it.  I would have loved nothing more than to have woken up one day and noticed it all.

I suppose when you are teased and your life is made miserable by multiple people over the course of several years, you just start thinking that well, maybe their right, and no amount of makeup or silly clothes or loud laughter or batting eyelashes will change the way you feel about yourself.

I kind of hate that I hate myself.

I hate how people feel like they have to be defined by something about them.  People go to conferences and workshops to be with people who are defined by this one thing.  I have cysts on my ovaries, that hardly means that I will attend conferences so I can embrace this single facet of who I am.  I know I could stand to lose a few pounds, but that hardly means that my feelings of self worth are wrapped up in a few digits that flash on the scale I'm standing on, and I have to sit in a circle talking about the things I eat every day.  I have reddish hair, but that doesn't mean I have to attend a ginger convention.

I am a complex human being.  I don't believe in participating in certain activities merely because they have to do with a singular fact about me.  Why can't I just enjoy who I am, and do things that maybe have nothing to do with me just for the sake of doing them?  Why do I have to pretend to be interested in every crash diet that some girl comes to me bragging about because she lost four pounds of water weight in three days and she feels like it's actual fat?  I'm sorry I don't feel this sense of sisterhood with other overweight women.  I just don't.  I never have.

Alright, I feel like this post is going nowhere.  I just had to vent somewhere about what has been going on in my head so I can feel a sense of relief from what has been inside me for a little too long.

Keep it real readers.