A Mess of Thoughts

I’m tempted to write

Breathe

For a brief moment my hands looked different, they looked how I wanted them to look. I felt euphoric. I need that feeling again.

It’s cold, I can smell burgers on a grill. I only have a hoodie wrapped around me and I’m thinking of the compliments where I was called small.

It almost reminds me of the nights I spent at the fair as a teenager.

290

187, 24, 15, 41, 130, 10, 1, 1

Life, mind and body. Hearing stories after stories and lies after lies has made me begin to doubt my own memories. What used to be the truth soon turned out to be the lies. I've begun to realise I was born to be owned rather than to just exist as my own person.

Body

The more I began to look at my clothes the more I began to realise I had only picked half of those items, the rest I hardly wore but were expected to wear because "I should know how to dress proper". Because I'm expected to be like the belldam's little doll.
I found myself watching others more often than most, just starring longingly at people on the street or in the Underground or even on the bus. Occasionally peaking between the curtains at my window, staring at the people that passed the property. Just longing to know what it was like to be alive, to exist in a world that they wandered in. To exist in their world at all is more like a dream.
I own more sweaters and hoodies than I do regular t shirts and dress shirts. They are always an XL or even larger just so I can hide my body in them. I hate my body, whatever I see in the shower or glance at in the mirror. I wanna tear my skin apart. This disgusting scar covered tainted body. I used to wear the same pair of skinny jeans for months at a time but they aren't so skinny anymore.

Food

Food was something I ate without thinking, I never counted and never really thought about the things I was doing to myself. Until I wanted control. I wanted some form of control in my life, I was desperate. I found myself looking at certain words and falling into a community where becoming nothing but bones was beautiful. I told myself I can stop when I want. But, they never warn you. You can't stop.
Everyday I count now, I count the teaspoon of sugar I drop into my tea, I count the small packet of soy sauce I drop on my cucumber maki. I count the 100g of broccoli, the vegan burgers, the small slices of chicken, the fucking cucumber, the dash of cooking oil, the small drop of milk, all of it! And I can't stop. I find myself counting and counting, whenever food is made for me and I've not served it myself I always only eat half. I don't even try anymore, I just so much as glance at something and the number just appears in my mind.

Envy

I'm envious of someone's figure. He's just so beautiful, he's all I wish I could be. I stare at his pictures often, just repeating to myself how when I have money and when my body is like his I'll be someone important. It's awful, he's on my mind everyday, that damned smile, his laugh, his kind words, his tears, his happiness, his entire fucking existence. Part of me wants to hate him and blame him for making me envious. It's no one's fault but my own.
Sometimes he appears in my nightmares, and I just find myself there, looking down at him, I'm so angry, so jealous! The horrible torture I put him through. I never want that to happen to anyone, not even the bitch who cheated on me.

Family

Family doesn't feel like a family to me, even though I live in a house with them I still find myself mumbling "I wish I could go home". It's not here, I don't know where it is, but it's not here. When I hear about how relaxed, happy and calming other homes are, I find myself longing to know what that feels like. To have parents who aren't lying and trying to control me. To have parents who don't tell others I am something I am not. To have parents who know who I am rather than to own and love the idea of me.
I feel so numb around them.

Mine

I want someone I can call mine. Mine without owning them, just mine as in a boyfriend or girlfriend. I'd love to have them in my arms or to be in theirs. To be beside someone who I know loves me.
Oh what I would give to be in your company.

I wonder which of the events caused me to fall onto my current path. Why? Why do I crave control and a life I cannot even have? Why I wander the nights, staring at neon lights, walking along with my hood up, headphones on in an attempt to turn the world off? Why do I lay in my bed in the early hours of the morning, questioning what is the point of even sitting up today?
Why do I crave to feel human so badly?

This morning when I woke up, I didn't leave my bed, I curled up into a ball, clutching my bottle of water, staring at the dimmed screen of my phone. I was staring at videos of him, looking through threads and forums on events that are probably going to be my own demise.
Despite the negative I still on occasions feel hope. I still lay there, telling myself "One day". One day I'll have my own apartment, living with someone I love, eating a katsu curry or pizza and laughing as we watch dumb cult movies from the 80s. I'll have a nice job, I'll have a life. I'll feel human.

Yet the rest of me is still convinced I'll never make it past 25.

Negan.