My depression also makes me unhappy with however I look. My mother's nephrologist told me I look like a totally different person when I'm not in the hospital. It's unfortunate I still feel like a troll. I have patient's tell me I have beautiful skin all the time but to me it looks oily and shiny, and of course there is too much of it. I alternate from breaking down and relaxing my hair and cutting it all off. Oh and this is me AFTER Wellbutrin. I have always thought that I had a healthy dose of self esteem but as I draw closer to the surgery date and anxiety grows about life after weight loss, I'm realizing I have none. I wonder if I ever really had it or have been coasting through on dumb luck and bravado.
It's like this, the soul searching continues and must delve deeper into who I am and have always been. I am proud of the adult I have grown into but so much of my potential has been stunted by my weight. I feel lost in my teenage years, swallowed by what I have been fooling myself into thinking were long dead insecurities. I keep waiting for someone to sort it out for me and give me direction but no sage, wisdom filled, voice from the past has presented itself yet. In its place are endless hopes for companionship, bitterness about not finding someone that feels I'm the woman of their dreams, and the echoes of yearning for my own children instead of always being the aunt, the cousin, the godmommy to someone else. I feel as if I've been sleeping for the last 15 years and while I am anticipating the journey, in so many ways, I have a fear of what I'll find once I wake up.
I am working on being less EMO but utilizing the outlet is already reflecting positively in managing anxiety, stress, and depression. There will be rainbows after the rain as well as a butt load of puddles. I just have to deal with it hour by hour, day by day. My quote for the day is a fave of mine. "It was always the becoming he dreamed of, never the being." -F. Scott Fitzgerald
Love yourself,
Fat Girl
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