(Copied and pasted from my journal, this is my first post here, let me know if I've done anything wrong. Just need to vent 'cause 2.37am isn't the best time to be scritching in bed.)
Sorry, advanced warning, this is all going to sound really conceited. I've tried to count my blessings and I know I could be much worse off, but obviously I'm mentally fucked so can't get past that.
FFFFUUUUUUU I can't sleep I feel so shit.
I thought this would help but I've been dickish tonight and looked at pics of my bf's ex on facebook, who is the most perfect fucking specimen on the planet (although apparently a total bitch. WTF life is so unfair).
Anyway I'm fucking fed up, thinking of all the things I can't do. I mean I LITERALLY can't. And never will be able to unless I get the money for ~amazing surgery or a miracle happens. There's no way I can ever be happy with what I've got because I KNOW it's less than perfect. And I know that 95% of the rest of the earth are not ~perfect but still fucking hell, I don't want to be like everyone else. Argh. I sound so so awful.
- I can't wear shorts in the summer, even when it's sweltering. It's full length jeans or tights. I can't wear 3/4 lengths because a. they make me look short and fat and b. they're ugly, end of.
- I can't go on the beach, I can't go in the sea, I can't wear a bikini. I think this is the reason I never managed to swim.
- I can't go camping. Reading is going to be hell if I don't get better.
- I have to get up at least an hour and 30 mins before leaving the house. Even in year 11 I was getting up at 6 to straighten my hair. I've actually RUINED it over the years, when I was at school I used to lag it with hairspray and then straighten over that, so I'd look like a crow landed on my head. When it was blonde I'd bleach it practically nightly because I still wasn't happy.
- I can't even wear my hair up ffs. I'm constantly playing with my hair, tugging at my fringe trying to cover my forehead. I must look like a right misfit to everyone else.
- I can't show my back or shoulders. WHY? I DON'T EVEN KNOW. There's nothing 'wrong' with them. They're just wide.. and.. exposed?! Wat.
- I can't have photos taken with my friends, because I look consistently shit in every one. I'm too busy worrying about the angle my face is at, whether my nose looks big. I can't SMILE cause I hate my teeth so much and my eyes disappear.
- My accessories have to match. I can't mix metals. No coloured eyeshadow. No black with black. I can't wear trainers. No sandals either. I can't wear strapless tops. No bright colours other than pink or purple. Nothing backless obv. Nothing with shoulder detail. No skirts below the knee. Skirts above the knee only with 100+ denier opaques. I should start my own misogynist religion.
- I'm agoraphobic, I spaz out walking through my city center. I can't stand to be looked at incase people notice my flaws, or they go, WOAH look at that girl's trashy extensions, the amount of makeup she wears. And I can't stand NOT being looked at because then I feel even shitter, like I'm not worth even a glance, all my efforts are for nothing. I've been called a butterface in public before.
- Whenever people don't like me, or show indifference, I blame it on how I look. I can't talk to people, I'm too anxious of what they think of me. Every break up is because I'm not good enough looks wise (don't worry I don't tell my boyfriends any of this). I like my personality, I'm funny, smart, interested in a million different things, decent taste, just my bodies holding me back.
UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUCK THIS IS KILLING ME. I thought I was getting better. It took me an hour to get dressed today because I felt like shit in every item of clothing I tried. I'm not fat, I'm below average, and still I manage to look like absolute toss. I'm an 8 in jeans and yet I feel like a 22. It's not the media, I couldn't give a shit about ads, models and celebs with their coke habits and wheatgrass shots, I compare myself to real girls walking past with arses smelling of roses.
And now I'm having a fit on the phone, which is going to do wonders for my love life.
Also having dangerous thoughts for the first time in ages. Just realising the permanence of how I look, how I doubt I'll never be able to afford a nose job, boob job, laser surgery.. my hair won't grow of it's own accord. Not in a nice way anyway. This is it and I can't keep dealing with myself looking like this. I think if I tell my bf about my BDD it'll scare him off.
Sorry again, all really embarrassing. Need to get myself a burqa and stop giving a shit. Live in a mirrorless land and be ~free~. Haha.