I am writing this as a reminder to myself but this is stuff that has been inside of me for a long time – most of this year – and I keep it to myself because everyone is having a rough year and I don’t and didn’t feel like I had the right to moan about it when I’ve fared relatively well when compared to others.
I utterly hate myself.
This year has been horrible for so many reasons. I knew I had
to lose weight before this year started and now I’ve put on an additional two
stone (ish). I hate it. I hate me. I hate my tummy. I hate my wobbly bits. I hate
that when I sit naked on the bed after a shower or bath, my boobs are held up
in place by my tummy. They’re not even pert, they’re just fat.
I really, truly, hate myself.
The word for this year is uncertainty.
My anxiety has gone absolutely through the roof this year
and it’s just the uncertainty over the whole thing. A three week period of furlough
that lasted for a total of six months, even if some of it was part time – but I’m
lucky because I had a job to go back to, and I still have that job, and I still
had an income and I could still just about afford to live.
Uncertainty over what the next year will bring. Brexit,
covid, bojo, everything is just a mess and my head is a mess and my body is a
mess and I feel powerless to do anything about it.
Except the old eating disorders creep back in and I know I can
control what I eat. I can control what and how much exercise I do (and have
continually not done this year).
This year has been a year of “treat yo’self” but the result
is that I hate myself more than I ever have. I am the heaviest and biggest I have
ever been. I am the loneliest I have ever been. I didn’t have many friends to
start with and now I have even less. Fewer.
David keeps saying that I can’t start another blanket but they’re
the only things I can make where I don’t need to think, I can just do. I can
keep my hands and brain busy. I can make something and distract myself and have
something useful and usable at the end of it. I want to be useful, I want to make pretty things, I want to feel like I'm doing something good.
I am really struggling with not spending all of my December pay
cheque because I know I have bills to pay but all I want to do is buy yarn and
craft things so I can make things to distract myself. I want to buy stuff for
the allotment so I can go there and get out of this house and distract myself.
I am not one for resolutions because I never stick to them
or achieve anything and at the end of the year I feel like a monumental failure.
This was my ‘aims and goals for 2020’ blog. What a hoot! Imagine
a world where all of this could’ve been kept up and I would be in a totally
different position now.
I was going to hula every day for this festive break too,
but then I had a stinker of a cold which resulted in a week off work and
feeling like death for 8 days. I was then ok for 2 days (and could breathe
through my nose) and then I got a bout of sinusitis and felt like I’d been hit square
in the face with a flat bottomed pan. I have spent nearly two weeks being
poorly and I am STILL BEATING MYSELF UP for not exercising, for not being a
better person, for not achieving anything.
Why am I like this.
I think aims and goals are more do-able than resolutions. I think
the terminology somehow makes me feel better if I don’t do something.
I need to do something. I hate myself.
So this was our last dominos pizza for as long as possible (I guarantee at the end of January we will have another).
I have also finished the first lot of bunting that I said I hadn’t
done. I have run out of twine to do more as I took it all to work and left it
there, so I need to buy more.
So, short story. I hate myself, I have vented, I haven’t cried yet but I will do when David reads this and hugs me better. I just don’t want to get into my mid-late thirties and be a fat wobbly mess. I want my hips to work without seizing up and my knees to work without cracking and my tummy to not be bigger than my arse.
I don’t know what else to say. The only person who can do
this is me. The only person who can change my tummy is me. I am going to start by
deleting the dominos app.
