My dad asked me the other day, "Why are you so sad?"
And I replied, quite honestly: "Because I hate my life."
He huffed and puffed and then walked away and yelled "So fix it!"
Seems logical. It's what I'd tell anybody else if they were feeling shitty about their situation, but applying that simple little suggestion to myself seems impossible.
I suppose I should start with fixing my physical body. I've been overweight since I was a child, and I know that when people look at me they have just as much disgust for the fat bulging over my pants and chubbing up my cheeks as I do.
So, what? An hour on the treadmill, diet pills, and the scarce (but manageable) healthy foods we have in this house?
I can try. I /will/ try because really - this body is mine and I can undo what I've already done.
Logical, understandable.
But how do you 'fix' two years of post-apocalyptic mental warfare that's left you utterly friendless and completely miserable? Let me clarify a bit.
I was a bratty teen. A raging hormonal bitch with a vengeance for society. 'I don't give a fuck' was my slogan and I wore it well. I think I was about sixteen when I just quit going to school. Instead I cultivated a tweaker pad on my front porch. My doorbell would ring about eight a.m. Most of us were drop outs but the kids who didn't want to go to class knew I had parents that worked and an open door. I'd let them file in one by one and out of my inner need to impress I'd do anything necessary to achieve some sort of inebriation. Hallucinogens were my favorite. After stirring them into a pot filled with bulimia, starvation, lack of sleep, and emotional warfare I developed a case of psychosis. I horrified my family and my friend took off running. I was hospitalized for a month, and I was still bat-shit nuts for about two more. When the smoke finally cleared and I wasn't half blind or hearing little voices all I had left was a pair of devastated parents.
My friends were fickle and fake. After I couldn't offer them a place to smoke and drink and pop pills I was rendered useless. And alone.
Two years later, I'm alone. If I were to call one person up and say, 'Hey, let's go out!' they'd back away because after this amount of time anything that was between us has changed.
I don't know how to fix that.
How do you go about finding friends? Do they just fall out of the sky? Are they strangers at the supermarket? I can't figure it out.
I've worked really hard to clean up my life yet my past is still on my record. I'm a GED graduate, but it's hard to find a job that'll take you when you're applying beside a college student.
I feel like I've been in social, mental, physical purgatory. There's no highlight to any day, just more blank stares and mundane activities. And I really don't have a clue as to how I can fix it. I'm young. I'm fat, but not hideous. I want to live these years like a normal person, but instead it's day in and day out with the same things.
All I really want is a friend to go to the mall with, or to meet up with for drinks. Or maybe a nice car to drive, or a job that pays well and doesn't degrade me. | |
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