singlegirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'm Done I�m not even sure that I can put into words how I felt on Saturday. It might have been one of the lowest points of my life. It started with getting ready for the wedding. I had the dress I was going to wear picked out, but when I put it on, it looked horrible on me. It didn�t fit (and I was wearing 2, yes 2, girdles). I was lumpy and bumpy and the dress just wasn�t flattering. I only had 10 minutes before I had to leave, so I quickly threw on a black skirt and a red top. I looked bad. I didn�t realize how utterly awful I looked until Jeremy and I were walking from the parking garage to the church. I caught a glimpse of myself in a store front window and I almost threw up. The image that looked back at me was so hideous that I stopped and contemplated going home and hiding. We rounded the corner and what was there waiting for me? My friends � all so skinny and perfect with their little dresses and strappy sandals. For the first time, I honestly can say I felt hatred towards them. Burning, white hot, hatred. It only lasted a second, but it resurfaced when I heard things like, �I really like your shirt.� Really? No you don�t. It�s fugly and I look fat, so shut the fuck up. I have never felt so ungodly uncomfortable in my entire life. I wanted to die. Literally die. The entire night, I didn�t speak. I didn�t dance. I didn�t do anything. I didn�t want to bring attention to myself. During the ceremony I was seriously thinking about killing myself. I was just so sad and embarrassed and angry and uncomfortable. I drank � a lot, hoping that alcohol would numb me, but it didn�t. My friends are probably mad at me, but fuck them. They were �so worried about me all night.� Why? Why do I always have to be the cheerful, fat friend? Why do I always have to be the one to talk and make jokes? The night of the wedding, I wasn�t mean to anyone. If someone smiled at me, I smiled back. If they spoke to me, I spoke back. Jeremy said my smile looked forced and that I looked sad all night, but I did the best that I could. At one point, the girls wanted to take a photo so I grabbed the camera and told them to smile. Afterwards they asked me to join them for another photo. I declined and Jeremy said that he heard one of them call me a bitch. Fuck them. What law says that I have to be in every mother fucking photo? I was nice and offered to take one, back the fuck off. I�m sorry that I couldn�t fake being happy. I usually can do it, but I just couldn�t on Saturday. I was that upset and that sad. And please, don�t tell me that I looked okay. I didn�t. First off, I was the only person there not in a dress. Secondly, I wasn�t as dressy as everyone else. Thirdly, I looked (and was) absolutely huge. God I know I�m depressed again. I was depressed in my earlier entries and I am feeling the same way again. I cannot stand to be in social situations. I don�t want people to look at me or talk to me. I just want to be alone. I don�t even want to have sex anymore. Poor Jeremy. If we make it through this, he deserves a medal or something. This is it. If I don�t lose weight this time, then I don�t think that I want to be here anymore. What kind of life is this? It�s not fun being miserable and uncomfortable all the time. I�m done. This is now or never. Nobody deserves to be this sad. I just hope that in the process I don�t lose everything I have. I want my friends to be understanding and supportive, not calling me names or talking behind my back. I want Jeremy to be by my side and to stop asking me if I�m going to be okay (he must have asked me some variation of that question a bazillion times this weekend). I want to just be happy and comfortable with myself and my life. I want to be healthy and normal. I would also love to have a fat friend. I don�t know anybody who�s fat. I�m surrounded by perfect, beautiful people all the time. I would like to have someone to talk to that can actually relate to me. I would be embarrassed to be in public with them though. Two fatties cannot hang out together. That�s a fact. God, this was such a miserable weekend. I cannot wait until next Monday. I just want to start this damn diet � I�m ready for a change. 10:50 a.m. - July 11, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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