Am I Pretty Yet?
Weight Gain.
More, always more.
The scale says 198, almost 200; the stretch marks show the weight I have gained. Pushing back tears I decide to work more on it, eat less, do what ever it takes.
A week goes by of working out, running, squats, one meal a day. I stand on the scale once more, taking a deep breath; I take a look down. Nothing, nothings changed. Pushing the scale back under the sink I collapse.
Tears running down my face as I curse my self. How could this happen, why cant I be pretty? Why can't I have what everyone else has.
Whipping the tears away, I push it down. All the way down deep inside. Over the next couple of weeks, the work outs less and less before I know it, its a struggle to get out of bed every day.
Hiding behind a face of make up, my tears struggle to find help. My friends don't understand the struggle, they talk about how if you just worked a little harder you could do it. But can I? Is it even ment to be?
I start to think about my life and how I cant leave the house without people eying me or commenting on it. How I can never do the things I love because of the belly hanging in my middle. If only it wasn't there, If only I could get rid of it. Walking, I can feel the jiggles rippling like water when it rains.
I start to avoid mirrors, I start wearing baggy cloths when I do leave the house. I start hating my self on a new level. I tell my self its not that bad, there are bigger girls out there. A brief moment of happiness when a friend says that it looked like you lost some weight. The joy is like nothing I have ever felt in the world. Some one says; In a brief moment, that I look skinnier. I crave those words more then anything. The thought that someone sees me in a new light brings a smile to my face.
I kindle my efforts, and work as hard as I can. Days later the fire is out and nothing has changed, a horrible cycle that never ends. Keeping my mind off food I brush my teeth millions of times a day in an effort to stop eating. I do everything. In the end I eat, in the end I'm still weak.
The scale says 198, almost 200; the stretch marks show the weight I have gained. Pushing back tears I decide to work more on it, eat less, do what ever it takes.
A week goes by of working out, running, squats, one meal a day. I stand on the scale once more, taking a deep breath; I take a look down. Nothing, nothings changed. Pushing the scale back under the sink I collapse.
Tears running down my face as I curse my self. How could this happen, why cant I be pretty? Why can't I have what everyone else has.
Whipping the tears away, I push it down. All the way down deep inside. Over the next couple of weeks, the work outs less and less before I know it, its a struggle to get out of bed every day.
Hiding behind a face of make up, my tears struggle to find help. My friends don't understand the struggle, they talk about how if you just worked a little harder you could do it. But can I? Is it even ment to be?
I start to think about my life and how I cant leave the house without people eying me or commenting on it. How I can never do the things I love because of the belly hanging in my middle. If only it wasn't there, If only I could get rid of it. Walking, I can feel the jiggles rippling like water when it rains.
I start to avoid mirrors, I start wearing baggy cloths when I do leave the house. I start hating my self on a new level. I tell my self its not that bad, there are bigger girls out there. A brief moment of happiness when a friend says that it looked like you lost some weight. The joy is like nothing I have ever felt in the world. Some one says; In a brief moment, that I look skinnier. I crave those words more then anything. The thought that someone sees me in a new light brings a smile to my face.
I kindle my efforts, and work as hard as I can. Days later the fire is out and nothing has changed, a horrible cycle that never ends. Keeping my mind off food I brush my teeth millions of times a day in an effort to stop eating. I do everything. In the end I eat, in the end I'm still weak.