Misery

Why Do I Look This Way?

CHARACTER AESTHETIC

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I look at myself in the mirror and negatively observe.

Why do I look this way?

My eyes move down from my face and look at the almost translucent cover that is my skin. I scan down from my chest towards my stomach area and grimace at the stretch marks that surround it. I move further down to my legs and frown at even more

Everywhere I look there's a flaw. I'm staring at a mess.

No wonder no boy has ever looked at me. Just saw me as a nobody.

I have nothing. No curves, no thin long legs, no nothing. I'm plain.

Tears gather into my eyes and I cross my arms across my chest. I close my eyes and remember the words that made me like this.

"You were always so fat."

"Lose weight loser."

"You should just kill yourself because you're going to be alone your whole life."

"No one's ever going to love you and if they were, they'd be in love with trash."

Such words can extremely affect someone's self-esteem and that's what happened with me. Knowing that I can't stop thinking the way I do. Overthinking and analyzing everything about myself and other completely irrelevant things. This feeling in me that forces me do it.

I hate it. I hate myself. I have no love for myself and haven't had it once in my whole twenty-four years of living.

All those years in high school had ruined how I viewed myself. Even before that I knew I was fat. Was too big to be liked, still am. Of course, being alone is okay but when you're affected in such ways as myself, it's hard to be.

This feeling that I have, tells me that there is something wrong and that I am different from everyone else. In which, I am. I think I'm going crazy. I frown upon these thoughts and continue to stare vigorously at my body. I wish I was beautiful.

I look back at the clock that stands near my bed and see its 12:00 am which means I need to sleep, except, I won't because I can't.

Just another night full of tosses and turns.

As I put on my nightgown, I stare at the fat that moves as I move. So big. How will I be able to get rid of this. I've tried to many times to count. Nothing works.

I lay down on my soft bed and relish the feeling of the cold surface. My body feels exhausted but my mind is wide awake. The feeling of stress and anxiety builds up in me when something isn't right. When you know something isn't okay. It eats you. Chews at your head. It's a thought constantly clouding my mind. I can't focus with it and it seems as if I can't live without it anymore either.

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New day, fresh start.

I gather all of my necessities for my work and walk over to my bathroom. I stare into my tired looking yet calm eyes but ignore the bags that lay under them. So ugly. After washing, I walk over to my closet and get what I need to wear for the day. The dark colors express what I feel on the inside. Pain. Pain for myself, Pain for my family. Pain for the ones who have to look at me every day.

I ignore my thoughts and begin my walk to get to work. I don't eat breakfast because I don't want to eat. I'll get bigger. I listen to the world that surrounds me. Laughs of the people walking around me echo in my head. I wish I was that happy.

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I write the appointment time on the sheet in front of me and listen to the woman on the phone, who by the way, hasn't stopped talking for a good 10 minutes. I let out a frustrated sigh and hear her say goodbye. I do the same and hang up. Finally.

"Any appointments for tomorrow?"

I face the doctor but feel my nerves surface.

He thinks I'm ugly. The way he stares at me. He knows I'm ugly. My breath quickens. I close my eyes and try to calm myself down.

You are worthless.

I reopen them and stare into his shining green eyes.

"J-just Ms. Moore. She's been having headaches for quite a bit of time and needs you to check up on her."

"What time?"

I clear my throat.

"9:00am."

He nods and walks away, not before looking back at me and giving me a smile. I do the same back. It was fake.

As time goes by, I say hi and bye to people who come in to see him, and to the ones who leave when they're done. I watch the news and play with the pen that lays in my hand, just an hour left. Almost there.

I rub my hands over my face and sit back in my chair. I am so tired.

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I stand in the same spot as the day before. Glaring at my body, not liking what I'm seeing. I shake my head and move towards my bed. I get into the warm covers and cover my flaws.

I close my eyes and try to fall asleep. But as soon as I reach the line before shutting down, I feel my body wake up. My hands are wet and shaking, I feel myself having trouble breathing. I can't breathe.

I scratch at my throat, give me air. I look over at my nightstand and see my home phone. I reach to grab it. It falls. My headaches, my sight is blurry, and I feel my head spinning. I fall off of my bed and grab my phone once again. I manage to dial an ambulance.

"Hello, what is your emergency?"

I struggle to get words out.

"I c-can't b-b-breathe."

"Why can't you breathe."

"S-s-s-send h-hel-."

I fall.

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The sound of beeping wakes me out of my slumber. I open my eyes. I flinch from the rush of pain that runs through my head.

Where am I?

"You had an anxiety attack Ms."

I observed her beautiful feminine features. Why couldn't I look like that?

I stop myself before it leads to another attack.

She spoke, I listened.

When she left, everything came rushing back.

Don't let your thoughts win over your body. Don't let someone or something control you because you are your own person. Don't let them win. It's something you can't always control but if I am able to shut my mind and block those harsh words out, so can you.