summertimesadness

i’ve been meaning to blog. it feels like it has been awhile. the summertime sadness has gotten hold of me. the cool rainy days inbetween the very hot humid ones has me ready for fall but wary of the winter following right at the heels of soft skies, cool walks and the comfort of all my favorite sweaters.

i’m working very hard at not hating myself. i’m starting with my appearance. i’m avoiding the scale as if it were a foot bath of hot lava. i haven’t even measured anything but my purse in a desperate attempt to find a way to carry what i need without hurting myself with too much weight on my shoulder, literally.

~ i got myself a big girl wallet and yesterday i got out my awesome but too big purse and hope it will be easier to use with the new wallet and only the contents of the small purse. we shall see ~

as with any time i start a new focus on my appearance, usually a new diet, i have of course injured myself. i acquired a mild concussion due to a mix of being short and not paying attention. it has been well over a week, maybe two and i’m still getting headaches every day, neck and upper back pain and sometimes small moments of dizziness and lightheadedness. so i sort of do my yoga each day, make sure the animals have what they need and do a lot of resting and not driving. the not driving is full of suck because i’m lonely and shit but on the plus side, i’m saving money. i have only bought one thing online so not with such self control there and not being out seeing things to buy, i’ve managed not to fuck up my finances. but damn do i feel lazy and useless.

this is especially good because i have tattoos in line to be gotten.i’m hoping to be able to make an appt next month for my Death quote just above my ankh (you get what everyone gets, you get a lifetime) and several small stars. some in a sort of cluster on the right side of my neck, maybe close ish to behind my ear, just a few. then some on my right fore arm. just little open stars. i also want to get an extra line of lyrics on my upper back, the line that comes right before the one on my lower back (every minute, every hour is another chance to change). it would be nice if i could get all that knocked out at once, we shall see.  then sometime into the fall i am getting a special tattoo on my left shoulder, like all around it. part of it will cover the last tattoo i’ve wanted to cover. after xmas i have two bigger pieces in mind that i really want. one of them i’m waiting on until Kayla and I can go together.

all that seems like just vanity and it is exactly that. my hair, my clothes, my tattoos….these things make me feel like i am worth looking at. sometimes i even feel…beautiful? i am going to do a photo shoot for myself, maybe this week. i have a remote for one camera and tripods so i’m hoping i can get some good shots. i feel like, if i could see myself in photos, at my best (not with my mouth open talking or sitting in a very unflattering way) maybe i will start to see what a few people say they see. i mean, i was actually told that i don’t look plus size, as in qualifying as such, in their opinion. my body dysmorphia is basically robbing me of my life. i’ve spent my whole life trying to be thin to the point of being sick sometimes and dealing with horrible self loathing whenever i actually eat or see photos. so one way or another i’ve been miserable simply because of how i look.

what’s worse is the next step. the reason my appearance is so fucking important to my brain. i’ve nothing else to offer. i’ve no real talent for anything, i’m incredibly lazy, i drink too much because i find it easier to babble like an idiot if i can blame a bottle of Moscato, my photography is mediocre at best, luck and a real good camera, i’m a horrible writer, i mean just look at this sentence running on and on because i just write the way i speak. i can’t cook, really, i burned rice a roni. for fucks sake, who does that? my memory is fucked. i’m seriously lacking in real education and have forgotten anything i learned going to college. as i type all this i am desperately trying to think of any relevance i truly have in this life. i have a knack for recognizing actors and remembering what other show or movie i saw them in but i almost never know the actors name. i’m very good at remembering where a conversation left off whenever someone goes off on a tangent. aside from that, i gave the world a stellar, beautiful, fun, smart and amazing young woman named Mary. i can only take so much credit for her and could therefore list all the ways i suck until the end of the world.

so while i try to accept my body, this face and this hair that i keep cutting off despite my hatred for short hair, i will try to find reasons to not have to compensate for uselessness with beauty.

i recently read “The Art of Asking” by Amanda Palmer and while i don’t need to ask for help paying for art i’m incapable of creating, i do need something and if i don’t ask for it i can’t expect it to just happen.

i need help seeing if there is anything to see in me.

maybe you think i’m a good listener, i think i am too self absorbed and always shift the conversation towards me and then i have to back peddle and i feel like a horrible person.

maybe you think i give good advice. i struggle just to not say the wrong thing and sometimes keep certain opinions to myself for fear of hurting feelings, then i wonder if i’m doing a disservice.

yeah, i could do this all day.

i’ve had a headache for awhile now, i should go take something.