Day 27

38 6 18
                                    

Sunday, May 3, 2020 

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Can someone please look at this at the beginning and tell me if day 2 starts the book instead of What's going in here? I may have messed up the format and I don't know how it happened.

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That moment when your sister implies in front of your family that you're fat/gaining weight/need to get exercise so you plaster a fake smile and pull out the insultingly polite words while harshly tossing a blanket at her head before you start screaming and run out of the house.

The worst part to me is not that she pointed it out, though that does really hurt and will probably soon be another thing that joins the soundtrack of self hatred on loop in my head. No, it's that no one tried to refute her. Not my mom, not my dad, not even myself.

I stood up, tossed the blanket at her, and harshly put on my shoes to stand by the door (me and my mom were going out for a walk).

My mom said nothing against my sister (that I heard and she was in earshot the entire time).

My dad said nothing against my sister, and he was in earshot the whole time as well. 

On the walk, my mom said nothing of it. 

They all brushed it off as nothing. But it stuck with me, sticks to me right now.

After all, it's just a joke. Playful jabbing. Nothing to get worked up over. Just a joke... right?


Wrong. 

To her it may have been a joke, to her it may have been playful, to everyone in the room except me it was nothing to think about as it was nothing. 

But to me, to me that hurt.

I battle every. single. freaking. day. to accept my body as me and fine. 

And it's not just the comment today, it's the comments a couple days ago, a week ago, a month ago, a year ago. 

"Maybe if you cut your nails"

"You could always cut your hair"

"You do need the exercise"

"Stop drawing on yourself"

Well maybe I like having long nails! Maybe, I enjoy nails that are the same length out of the nail bed as is in the nail bad. Maybe, knowing I can clean my nails with the opposite nails is a nervous tick of mine that keeps me calm and grounded and here. Maybe, when nothing else works, having long nails I can dig into my skin and  f e e l  brings me back to the here, clears my  mind of the terror and panic. And yes it's inconvenient at times and yeah they break easily, but they're mine and they are something I can control about myself that I actually like.

Maybe I like having a weight, a prescience at the back of my neck and down my spine. Maybe I like having to take ten minutes to do my hair because it calms me against the chaos of the day ahead. Maybe I use the ends to play with and not scratch at my skin or bite into my skin every two seconds. Maybe it's become my security blanket that I never really had. And yeah it takes forever to brush through and yeah I can't do a lot of normal stuff with it but it's me and it's something I control and it makes me feel safe.

Maybe I hate the way I look. Maybe I hate the way my thighs are large and my stomach has large folds and my big feet and the way my hands start sweating if I move too fast or have a change in environmental temperature. Maybe I hate that I feel too big around the middle and too large in the shoulders and too thick in the thighs and too warm every second of the day. Maybe I hate me and my physical appearance and everything that people see of me whenever they look at me. Maybe I don't need you offhandedly telling me something I try so hard not to think which will now ping around in my head forever.

Maybe I need to draw on my skin. Maybe it keeps me from screaming, from attacking my skin with a knife or blade. Maybe inking flowers on my arms and thorn bracelets around my wrists and thorn vines across my knuckles and fingers and infinity symbols on my inner wrist and curling lines along my thighs and knees and ankles keeps me from doing something I will regret. Turning something I don't like into art so I have to keep it clear of permanent marks.


Maybe I have more body issues than you think.

Maybe I struggle with feeling in control of my body when it feels like you're constantly judging me for everything I do.

Maybe I long to do whatever I want without fear of your lectures. 

I want to dye my hair purple, I want to paint all my nails black, I want to draw all over my arms and neck and legs and not scrub at them until my skin's red trying to keep it from you.

I want to feel at home in my own skin, my own body.


Stay safe kiddos, eat all the chocolate you want. You deserve it, you always deserve to eat and love yourself no matter what.

I love all of you <3<3<3

~Ink

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