I am not 100% sure why but I have been emotionally exhausted, for what must be months now. I am constantly tired, I am sleeping to stop thinking, I am sleeping just because I don't want to do anything else. Right now, I am sat on my bed in a dark room. I am not happy, as a human I understand we aren't supposed to be happy all the time - that is almost impossible, but I feel as though I probably should be happier than I am a lot of the time.
Sixth form, I wish I was that happy 17 year old I was when I first walked through the automatic glass doors, now I cannot stand the place. The excitement for my future has been swallowed by dread. I tell my best friend that I want to die at least 5 times a lesson, even now I can't tell if I am joking or if I am actually losing the will to live. One out of three lessons I don't hate, the other two I turn up simply because of attendance. I once used to feel guilty when teachers got mad or stressed with my class now I just don't care.
That body positivity I posted about two months ago, or the pretend happy gym selfies I post on Instagram, I don't where all that went. I am not positive, I probably hate myself more than ever and gym? It fills up my frees and takes over my life but becomes pointless when food is my only source of happiness, eating salad makes me want to kill myself. I feel much happier eating a burger than I do eating a piece of lettuce. I sweat my ass off in the gym only to find out I gained weight, it wasn't even muscle gain this time. It's not easy they tell me, it takes time but how I can carry on with the gym when my bed feels much safer. I don't have to face my reflection in the dark.
I follow plus size models on Instagram so I don't cry when there is a thin person in my feed, I lie to those who ask how the gym is going, it's going great but really the £15 a month feels like a death sentence. I have fallen out of love with taking selfies on Snapchat, instead, I cover the camera. I throw this facade on my social media, I may it look like I don't hate the world I live in, like drinking is only a social event and not my survival and escape, I post pictures that make me look creative, when really I haven't written anything decent in months.
I am angry or ready to cry, nothing inbetween, a constant state of deterioration. I can't stop myself from breaking, and I don't think I would want to if I could. I just keep falling, and whatever motivation my heart once carried is now a shadow of dust, a matter of inconvience. I push myself out, push the people I am supposed to love away, I used to cry of loneliness and now I just cry and sleep. I can't feel anything if my blanket is my support system, I cannot think anything if dreams taking up all my headspace.
Sixth form, I wish I was that happy 17 year old I was when I first walked through the automatic glass doors, now I cannot stand the place. The excitement for my future has been swallowed by dread. I tell my best friend that I want to die at least 5 times a lesson, even now I can't tell if I am joking or if I am actually losing the will to live. One out of three lessons I don't hate, the other two I turn up simply because of attendance. I once used to feel guilty when teachers got mad or stressed with my class now I just don't care.
That body positivity I posted about two months ago, or the pretend happy gym selfies I post on Instagram, I don't where all that went. I am not positive, I probably hate myself more than ever and gym? It fills up my frees and takes over my life but becomes pointless when food is my only source of happiness, eating salad makes me want to kill myself. I feel much happier eating a burger than I do eating a piece of lettuce. I sweat my ass off in the gym only to find out I gained weight, it wasn't even muscle gain this time. It's not easy they tell me, it takes time but how I can carry on with the gym when my bed feels much safer. I don't have to face my reflection in the dark.
I follow plus size models on Instagram so I don't cry when there is a thin person in my feed, I lie to those who ask how the gym is going, it's going great but really the £15 a month feels like a death sentence. I have fallen out of love with taking selfies on Snapchat, instead, I cover the camera. I throw this facade on my social media, I may it look like I don't hate the world I live in, like drinking is only a social event and not my survival and escape, I post pictures that make me look creative, when really I haven't written anything decent in months.
I am angry or ready to cry, nothing inbetween, a constant state of deterioration. I can't stop myself from breaking, and I don't think I would want to if I could. I just keep falling, and whatever motivation my heart once carried is now a shadow of dust, a matter of inconvience. I push myself out, push the people I am supposed to love away, I used to cry of loneliness and now I just cry and sleep. I can't feel anything if my blanket is my support system, I cannot think anything if dreams taking up all my headspace.
