I have always had a weight problem. I was an overweight baby. I am now an overweight teen. Growing up, my parents were always positive and supportive - ignoring the problem of having an unhealthy child. I don't blame my parents, but I wish we had conversations about my weight as a child instead of pretending the problem didn't exist. Maybe I could have learned healthier habits. Maybe I wouldn't have felt like such an outcast. Maybe I could have been happy.
I can't remember a day when I haven't been teased about my weight/looks. Every night, I cry myself to sleep, dreading the fact that I have to go back to school. I am so sad. So depressed. I hate myself. I hate being/feeling so alone, but I can't stand the thought of being outside. I feel safer in my room where I don't have to hear the cruel words of my peers…where there are no longer any mirrors to remind me of my weight.
I've tried dieting, but it's so easy to get discouraged. And when I get discouraged and sad, I eat. I have been sad my entire life...and I eat. And eat. And in the morning, I put on my oversized clothes and a smile and pretend everything is OK when I'm really dying on the inside.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
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