Monday, July 2, 2012

Just a Tip of the Anger Iceberg

   In order to understand what makes me an angry person, you have to truly get to some of the base of what I went through in my life.  I ate and ate as a kid to make myself unappealing (subconsciously) and also to get away from the person who was ruining my life.  From there, it became a habit (for lack of a better term) even after the abuse ended.  I didn't want anyone to touch me.
   I wanted to date and be a normal teenager.  I wanted guys to like me, but they never did.  What teenage guy in their right mind likes a 5'2 220lb girl?  Not many.  I was never asked out on dates by guys at school.  Only older guys liked me.  I learned about them as I got older, "chubby chasers" or whatever they call them now.  But back then, high school guys, all the guys I thought were adorable would have never reciprocated those feelings.
   I never went to one single dance in high school.  I never got to do one fucking typical teenage thing (i.e. have a guy come pick me up in his car and take me on a real date, do the whole meet the parents thing, pass notes in class, make out in the hallways, hold hands in school etc).  Instead, I had a verbally abusive older boyfriend who was a complete and total loser who cheated on me and because he was the only guy who showed me any attention, I hung onto his every word like it mattered.  I clung to his memory and even him (dating off and on) until my freshman year of college when I was finally able to let go of him.  
   But I missed out on all those years of being able to act like a real teenager because I looked the way I did and I looked the way I did because of the abuse that I suffered.  In fact, it was so rare that I did teenage things like go out and party (my social anxiety was already fucking with me) that when I did, my parents looked the other way.  I never even had a curfew because I NEVER FUCKING LEFT MY HOUSE.
   I hate the way I look and because of this I hate being out in public.  I'm not "fishing" for compliments or whatever people say, because whatever people say to me, I only think they are saying it because they are my friends.
   When I was in middle school, I went to small private schools and at this one private school, my first year there, I was the new kid, but not only was I the new kid... I was the fat new kid.  All these other kids went to church together, grew up together, hung out together outside of school and here I was... New, fat, and apparently a lesbian.  I happened to stare at a girl for a second longer than I guess I was supposed to (I'm an artist, I look at people) and from there, that made me a lesbian.  So I was made fun of for that.  I had to hear whispers about that, about being fat and apparently ugly.  I got to hear jokes about how I was "free willy" on movie day.  It was fucking lovely.  I was bullied.  I hated it.  I ignored it and pretended that I didn't hear all the whispers.  I pretended like they didn't bother me, but they did.  They made me hate my life.  I begged to go back to public school because at least at public school there were more people to blend into there.  But nope, my mom wanted me to stay in private school for the education. I never told my mom that I was bullied, I just told her that I missed my old friends.  I never wanted to be a "tattletail" or anything like that.  I just wanted the fuck away from all those mean spirited shits.
   What fucking sucks is that I was skinny all the way up until the fucking abuse started.  Then I ballooned.  I became the fattie you see today. People seem to forget that because I've been fat for so long.  I guess 25 years of being fat is hard to forget.
  I've been made fun of since I started getting fat, so you would think that I would be used to it, but I'm not.  It hurts.  Hearing all the taunts in elementary school, being picked last for sports, the names, everything.  It all fucked with my psyche.  I always kept it inside.  I always pretended not to hear things.  I never cried in front of people.  In fact, it happened so often, I stopped crying after a while.  I just became angry and mean and bitchy.
   Now, I make jokes about it, but fuck you if you try to joke about it.  You aren't me, you can't say jokes about me, only I can.
   I also hate all the backward compliments I get, "you have such a pretty face you hide behind all that weight." "you'd be so pretty if you lost weight." "can you imagine what people will say once you lose all that weight???"  It's like WTF?  Why can't I be pretty like this?  I've had to hear some variation of these backward compliments my entire life.  I was never the pretty one, I was always the smart one.  If I were ever with friends or cousins, guys never looked at me, I was just the frumpy one who was there.  And people fucking wonder why I am so angry.  I was bullied for my entire life.  I had to endure sexual abuse.  I didn't get to have a normal childhood.  I didn't get to be a typical teenager.
   For anyone to pass judgment on my actions or to think that my emotions aren't in check after all this time, sorry, I've got a lot of shit to deal with.

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