I care about you

I

TW OVEREATING, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

Phoebe
( best with emotional music)

Rain is dripping down the sky when I get on my bike and begin to aggressively ride it up the hill.
All I feel is anger and frustration.
They are supposed to be my family.
They are supposed to stand in for me.
Who can you trust when your own blood laughs about you behind your back? Full of rage I reach the top of the hill and breath out. I want to scream.
My whole life I have been bullied for not being as skinny as all the other people in my class.
"The ball is rolling your way, be careful so she
doesn't roll you over!" or things like
"How is that bike even holding you fat Phoebe?"
are the things I have to hear at least twice a day.
I give the pedals a strong push and begin to roll down on the other side of the elevation.
The rain drops are kissing my face and the cold wind is blowing my raging mind into order when I start gaining more and more speed. For a second I close my eyes and just enjoy the little sparks which are playing in my stomach. It is as if the world and all my worries pause for a minute or two.
All I hear is the airstream surrounding me.
But then my bike begins to slow down and the road gets uneven, so I have to reopen my eyes. With that, reality hits me again and I remember the argument I just fled from. Before I can do anything against it, the moisture is mixing up with my warm, salty tears. My sight turns blurry when my moms echo runs through my mind;
"Am I not supposed to have fun in life just
because my own daughter is fat?"
The sky is turning darker, clouds are now building up above me. I screamed at my mom because my sister Quinn told me she had been fat-shaming me in a conversation with some randoms.
Actually, it weren't randoms, it were other moms. The moms of my bullies. Everyone sees it and of course everyone knows that I am overweighted. In a small town like mine you are the centre of attention pretty fast when you fall out of the norm.
People are talking, making fun of me.
I am trying to lose weight. I have done every diet I could find. I starved myself and I still couldn't lose it. I don't know why I expected my mom to see things differently, to act different. It enrages me that people still see fat-phobic, homophobic or sexist comments as a joke. It's not a joke, it's not having fun. Especially not if all you do is hating yourself for that exact same fact. It's not a joke when you get bullied for stuff you can't really control. Why are people so cruel? Don't they care about anyone but themselves? Or do they just simply bully because they don't want to be bullied?
I didn't even notice how far I had driven away from home till I pass a sign saying
"KFC, 2,5 miles away", that's about an hour and a half away from where I live. Would make about a million hills I will have to climb when riding back. Amazing. I am so frustrated.
2,5 miles later I am walking into the rather grey looking KFC. All colour seems to be soaked out of the usually red seats and walls.
Just now I notice my clothes which are soaking wet and for the first time I feel how disgustingly cold I am. My jeans and shirt are glued on my skin, revealing my curves and tummy rolls.
I sit down and eat a lot. A lot a lot.
Judging old truck drives are gazing my way.
I can feel their eyes resting on my stomach, which is now uncovered by my beforehand white, now soaking wet shirt which seems to have lost all it's colour. Their eyes are wandering up my mouth. Looking at my fingers which shove the chicken wings into my saucy, fat mouth.
Thunder is followed by lightning and enlightens the area around the building . All the trees and fields I passed when coming here are shining in the dark night sky. Like a cage made by trees and just pure nothing holding me inside it's power.
I am trapped, no, tied to all this food and outside it's thundering. Food comforts me. It helps me forget the cold rain and the scary wind ready to blow me away. It is my rope, cutting in my skin, but still holding me safe and steady, helping me ignore the pain.
Here everyone knows everyone.
Everyone knows you are a fat jerk Phoebe.
Back in reality.
I look down on myself and feel disgusted. I feel like I am going to puke.
With an abrupt motion I wipe my mouth, throw money on the table and storm out of the building, now feeling even more critical eyes resting on my back. Not able to handle what just happened I swing back on my bike and just go faster and faster.
I go, but I don't go home.
I go and cry while going.
I go and scream while looking up the sky, feeling the rain roughly slapping my face with all it's power.
Thunder is smashing down on earth.
Blurry. Blurry lights, blurry houses. Happy families inside of them, most likely kids who never experienced being bullied. Mostly kids who have an average body. I know there are other possible problems, I do. But this right now is mine. So I care just about this one. I try easing my mind. I hate myself for hating myself for being sad.
The situation is getting too much. I don't know where all of this is coming from but suddenly I feel so done. What if it just ended right here and now?
My feet are working on their own and pushing my bike further into the darkness without me wanting it. Soon I reach a bridge. Ironic.
Just because I am tired, I tell myself, I stop the bike to rest. Walking up to the railing I feel the sparks in my stomach building up again. For a while I just stand there, shivering because of the cold weather, but also because I can't stop myself from crying.
What are you even doing Phoebe?
I lift my heavy body up to sit on the railing. The cold metal turns my hands blue, but I don't care. By now I must have an infected bladder anyway.
When a bright light is blending my eyes I want to turn in the opposite direction. But because my cold hands don't have much feeling in them I lose grip and my body is filled with a rush of adrenaline. I catch my grip and pull myself up. Shit I pooped my pants. The car comes to a hold, a figure runs out of it. I can't quite see who it is because the cars lights are still hurting my eyes. When she is close enough I almost lose my grip again. Her warm hand touches my frozen one and a lighting brightens the sky.

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:)
- mika