I cannot stop eating. My emotional reliance on food is stronger than my desire to become healthy and pretty. 

I'm very sensitive to missing out on community events. I consider the release of the Minecraft movie to be one since the theatres were full of teenagers that grew up with Minecraft. I wanted to be in a theatre full of others that were also raised on it, but I'm too late and the theatres are close to empty now. I don't even know why I'm sad over this, its such a dumb thing to be sad about. I'm going to see it with my sister anyways.

I feel so alone. I know I'm supposed to enjoy my own presence, but I'm alone too often to appreciate myself. Humans are social. I want friends. It will only get worse from here. 

Hi again, back because I have nobody to talk to. 

I was diagnosed with autism, I highly doubt the accuracy of my results. It might partially because I have a distorted view of autism and neurodivergent people; I can admit that, I am a product of the culture. I wish I was never assessed, it made me feel even more alienated. Whatever, I can deal with all of that later. At the moment I don't care about it. 

_________


My ex (the one I got with in Fiji), I didn't tell you why I broke up with him. It was because I never liked him, but on our plane ride back he told me he had generated AI porn of me so presented that as the reason I wanted to break up. Even if I liked him I would've broken up with him after hearing that. I was pissed off and somehow not surprised. Our mutual friend stayed neutral throughout the situation, telling me that he seemed sorry and apologised and apparently that was sufficient enough. I blocked both of them and will never speak to them again. Fuck you both.

Remaining on the topic of exes, my first ex reached out to me while I was at work. I broke up with him four years ago because the relationship was moving too fast, a codependency was building and we were both way too immature for what we were trying to get out of the relationship. He messaged me apologising for how the relationship ended, assuming he had hurt me (despite me communicating to him during our break up that I was ending things because we had moved too fast and we were both too young do be doing what we were trying to do). I told him that I felt no resentment and anything he may had done was forgiven years ago. We are back to being friends again.

We had been friends since we were six, we were very close. After the break up I never heard from him again, directly or indirectly through friends or social media posts. He didn't have the most stable life, so yes, I was worried. When he messaged me I was so happy to hear from him. I think my feelings for him never left because they've resurfaced again like a volcanic eruption. I have an inkling that the feeling is mutual, just based off the way he messages me. I doubt that anything will be done with these feelings. I don't know how a round two would end. 

He's a good man and I miss him a lot. 

________


My sessions with my psychologists haven't done much. Whenever I try to bring up different problems I feel like the sessions are steered towards problems that the more general population has. Like when I tried suggesting my low self esteem and bad emotional regulation are the products for being in a toxic school environment for a decade she (my psychologist) pushed the conversation towards my parents- specifically my mum. Obviously they have played their part in cultivating my current mental state, but I know that my school environment was the main source. So that's how most sessions go. 


________


Almost 5 weeks into university, studying psychology, not art. Everyone was surprised. I have talent and skills, but no passion. That's no artist.

University, so far, was not as bad as I had thought it would be. The friends I made I can tell will be temporary, the friendships will last maybe a year before we become acquaintances. Nothing wrong with that, but to have a good, solid, lasting friendship with another girl would be nice. Its something that comes so naturally to other girls.

It really just feels like an exaggerated high school. I'd say I am content.? 


________


Every time I open up to my parents I always regret it. After being diagnosed with autism I asked my mum how she felt about it, she had nothing to say. When I asked my dad he said that I seemed to be fine and that it didn't seem to affect me. For some reason that upset me. I know he doesn't know anything about autism, not to say I'm an expert, but considering he suggested that Elon Musk saluted because he was autistic says a lot.

I later asked mum about the diagnosis again. She started talking about how I never acted like the severely autistic boys at her work (she's a childcare worker) and so that there was no way for her to know. I got upset and told her its called a spectrum for a reason and that autism doesn't always look the same in girls. I told her about how I didn't even recognise I was being bullied when I was a kid because it wasn't direct and I couldn't pick up on the subtleties of the situation. She then got upset and started talking about how she felt like she had failed me as a mother. I got even more upset at that. 

My sister just turns the whole thing into a joke, which I don't know why, but usually I'm fine with it. I can tell she knows more about autism than my parents. That might be why. Sometimes it gets annoying though. 

When my mum was talking to me about my PCOS she mentioned that I should take supplements. I told her that's fine, but she then suggested that it could improve my autism. Obviously this pissed me off. I told her herbs wont change the condition of a neurodevelopment disorder. I was laughing the entire time I was explaining this to her. I was so agitated. 

This shit is so lonely, I wish I was never diagnosed.  


________


Two or so days ago my mum said that the reason I eat so much might be because there's worm in my stomach. Its already been established that I suffer (yes, suffer not 'have', I hate this) from binge eating disorder. So of course this upset me. I really don't understand how hard it is to think before you speak. 

About my eating disorder, it hasn't gotten better. I actually think its getting worse. I have no idea what to do, I rely on it to keep me afloat since I'm self harm free.

Part of me wishes that my best friend wasn't with his current boyfriend, mostly because I hate being second place. I don't really understand the appeal in his partner. 

He admit to me recently that when I first moved he was looking for an opportunity to get with me, which asking if I was queer two days into the friendship (he's transmasc- more androgynous presenting) now made sense. Which by the way, I don't think I am. 

He asked me if I was queer before he met his current partner. His partner is shorter than me, though with far better fat distribution, looser curls, Indian and a more secure identity- at least from what I can tell.

He sometimes makes jokes about his type being brown people. It doesn't help. I don't have feelings for him and if my self esteem wasn't so low I wouldn't care about it and I'd be good friends with his boyfriend.

Genuinely I don't understand what caused me to have such low self esteem. This is actually pathetic. I'm sure there's plenty appeal in his partner that I just refuse to see because I don't want to feel worse about myself, but being wilfully ignorant like this doesn't help. 

This is my fault and I deserve whatever is coming. I need to face it and deal with it accordingly, I will deal with it properly and I wont run away from it. 

I believe the main reason why I hate that my male friend is attracted to me is because I hate myself. His attraction didn't even serve as an ego boost.

Name five things you like about yourself, right now:

1. My hair
2.
3.
4.
5.

?

Incoherent train of thoughts.

I'm always mad at everything. I think I'm more mad at myself than anything, maybe. I don't know. My psychologist thinks I might be autistic, I don't think I am, I hope I'm not because then it'll re-contextualise everything- EVERYTHING and my I don't think I could handle it. Getting better would also be harder, I'd have to relearn everything, I'd probably spiral. 

I pity myself too much, everything that happened to me wasn't that bad- I feel like everyone else thinks that. I don't think I cared about mum choosing to fuck a pedophile over loving me for nearly three years that much. But then why am I so mad at everything? Also, I can't remember anything. I don't think I'm repressing or detaching from my emotions, I feel everything, its just that when my psychologist asks me to describe them I can't, because describing how exactly sadness feels is weird, so I look like I'm detaching. 

I'm definitely detaching. I'm also so behind on everything, friendships, romance, employment, driving and just general life experiences. Everyone goes through life at their own pace, but the way society is structured I'm very obviously falling behind. I'm also ugly, I'm so ugly. If I were prettier I'd be happier. 

My mum and sister were just in this room and their presence really irritated me and I wanted to yell at them, but I held my tongue. 

I'm also definitely not getting into the Uni I want. My friend got into the exhibition that both of us applied for, I didn't. I don't have what the art world is looking for, apparently he does. I thought his artwork was corny, but that's just jealousy talking because he had a clear theme and vision that he executed well. I didn't do that. My technical skills and art style are more refined, but I have no meaning no purpose to what I make- maybe this is a problem because I actually am detaching from my emotions. Though, whenever I tried to add meaning to my art, it never worked.

Why am I so ugly? I'd be ok at this weight if my fat was distributed better. My mum said my formal dress would've looked better if I had a butt. Now I don't want to wear it. People only like chubby girls when their figure still resembles that of a woman- fat in the chest and fat in the hips. I only have one of those so it makes me feel like a man who had breasts sown onto him. I look so awkward. I don't even feel comfortable in jeans anymore. The solution would be to lose weight, but I cannot stop eating. I eat to distract me from the bigger pains- detachment, yes, wow. That is so lame.

I hate being a woman, though if I were a man I would've been a horrible person. People that don't understand me when I say that truly don't understand how differently women and men are socialised and how different men and women actually are.

I hate everything. Why am I ugly? 

My mum wants me to get my makeup and hair professionally done. I don't want to. People are telling me to cut my hair, I want to because shorter hair will make my face look less puffy, but that's the only reason. I hate my fringe, but people let me know that hiding my forehead is good.

Eight months sober and I feel the same. I want to cut myself, part of me misses the harsh red and white of early scarring, I don't know why, but I do.

If I were slimmer with long curly hair, nobody would be telling me to cut it. I wish mum never convinced me that my hair was a nuisance. I wish I had never gotten that undercut. 

My friends like that I am mentally ill because it makes me "interesting" because my brain works differently to theirs, but whenever I actually exhibit any mentally ill behaviours they switch up. These weren't even insane or obscene behaviours- like me withdrawing verbally for a day or two (I was still messaging them), being insecure about my appearance and fixating on my interests. I don't think these behaviours are crazy yet my friends- one in particular- gets irritated. They forget there's actual consequences to being ill and that its not just being 'quirky'. It pisses me off. Fuck you.

I cannot get over this feeling of ugliness. 

My friend complimented my other friend- saying he likes his consistent fashion and intricate outfits. I could've been the same if I didn't feel so ugly in the feminine outfits that I used to wear. I only wear baggy t shirts and jumpers now. What once made me feel pretty makes me feel so self conscious.

I look so frumpy in everything I wear, the only time I don't is when I wear shorter shirts that flare out, but those make me feel exposed. I have an inverted triangle body shape and a majority of my fat is stored on my upper body, my legs look too skinny for my torso- my torso is also painfully short and my arms are long. I look compressed and lumpy. I hate how my body just naturally emphasises my bust it makes me feel whorish. I don't feel feminine. I look and feel so ugly. I want to wear nice things, but I feel so ugly all the time and the pretty clothing I want to wear overpower me, it looks like I'm hiding behind them- and I am. They don't work to accentuate me and my person, they only work to hide me.

I hate how beautiful my legs look on their own, but when paired with the rest of me its overshadowed by everything else and I don't even feel good enough to show them off. My legs connect to narrow hips and I have absolutely no ass. Being chubby with no ass and a mediocre chest feels so humiliating because guys only like chubby girls when they have hips and boobs. What's the point of being chubby if neither look good. 

My PCOS makes my face so bloated, despite my diet improving my skin has never looked worse. My stomach is always bloated and no matter what I eat, how rich it is in protein- how low in carb- I feel disgusting. I hate eating next to my skinnier sister because it makes me look like a fatass.

I know my parents don't find me beautiful even though they tell me that I am. All the features I have, my mum criticises on other people. She thinks its ok because that person isn't me, but part of them physically resembles me. 

I hate how attached I am to my hair. I hate how it makes my face look, I hate how I'm too scared to get it cut because its the only thing that makes me feel pretty sometimes. The only time I will take photos of myself is when my hair looks good.

I hate that when I feel ugly I am irritable and quick to anger.

I hate knowing that I would look so much better skinnier- I hate being the fat family member. I hate knowing that I would look better if I were a man, I hate knowing that if I were a man I would not hold myself to such high standards.

I hate that everyone I know is someones type, except me. I hate how close I am into fitting the sad curly girl archetype, but missing the mark because my suffering is not beautiful. The men that say this is their type have walked right past me.

I hate that I hope to be preyed on to reassure my appeal to men.

I hate that everyone looks better than me. I hate that nobody takes me seriously when I talk about this.

I hate that there is real narcissism embedded in hating my appearance so much. 

I hate that nobody takes me seriously when I talk about this.