(Warning: Anxiety and depression topics ahead)
Well, today I went for my gynae appointment (I’m eating hormone pills because of very bad menstrual cramps)(Sorry if I’m over sharing 😂) And we had to take our weight.
So all my life I never really struggled with being overweight or anything, I was usually 45-48kg and was usually called really skinny even though I never felt that I was. My most recent was 48kg. Today when I weighted in, I was at 50.3kg.
I mean I’m not fat, and for my height (156cm) it’s considered healthy but I felt as though I gained 30kg or something even though it was 2.
And then I realised why it seemed as though the world ended when I had only gained 2 kg.
All my life, in my family, my weight has always been criticised. Although my ‘friends’ never commented about my weight or that I was always the skinny girl, the people who really loved me always did. And I think that is what hurts the most.
My mother would always compare my weight to my siblings as though I was a kid who only knew how to eat, but I always ate the least among my siblings. Since secondary school until now. And I didn’t realise how much that traumatised me until now, when I stood on that weighing scale and FELT that 50kg was fat.
Has society been advertising models until we feel like shit every time we weight ourselves? How could society on one hand tell me to love my body, and on the other, tell me that I’m fat and not like the Size 2 girls? How could I love a body that has been told that it could never be loved?
Although I weighted 48 kg most recently before today’s weigh in, these past few months I had been working out and definitely know that muscles have developed and recently started watching my diet (but I always over-eat my 1,000 cal set by my app 😕 )
But the more heart breaking thing was that, I was trying to lose weight even though I am in the healthy range for my height.
Well, I’ve hated my sister ever since I realised that my parents always compare us (only in front of me) and it hurt me and that they always gave the attention to her. And yet I’ve been the one trying the hardest to please them. I always got the best results and always told them my plans and everything, but they’ve never supported me.
(God, I’ve having a difficult time typing this post, I keep tearing up in between, sorry guys)
So she weighed in at 50kg, but she has been sitting around all day and doing nothing. And I know that its the same, but I remembered that I had muscles and had worked out and walked frequently, but that wasn’t much consolation to my brain.
6 ways to know you were raised by a narcissist
> While reading this post, I guess my suspicions were true. (I also heard a lot of people who are INFJs are raised by Narcissistic parents)
All my life, I’ve been led to believe that I was never good enough. (Maybe it’s my high expectations, and maybe it’s the people around me.) But at least now I’m aware.
I also remember my ex mentioning that I was ‘chubby’, I know its not the same as fat, but is it really different?
Maybe people never really realised that words have power. And that power could hurt someone or encourage them, but many do not know it’s effect on the other person. That’s why I rather not to speak if I got nothing good to say. Maybe people who read a lot and write a lot truly understand the power of words and know how to not misuse them.
Although I always brush off my anxiety and depression as sadness and suddenly bad feelings, I knew what they were ever since secondary school. I admitted to them and I was okay with having them, I mean, they never truly disappear, do they? Acceptance is the key, also mindset. I never felt that people who have mental illnesses are a burden or are not needed, they just feel more deeply, they just carry heavier loads while trying to finish life’s race. I’ve been screaming for help, but no one hears me, and recently, I thought about giving up a lot of times but I was afraid to do it. But I’m okay, I think I just need support. My asian parents don’t believe in mental illnesses and just classify it as crazy like the rest of society.
(Oh God, this is so difficult)
I’m not suicidal, even though the thoughts are there, I’m trying to find ways to distract it. I’ve also scheduled an online appointment for counselling to see whether I can get clarification and support. I know it’s better to see a psychologist, but I’m currently not working and I can’t find the strength to get a job.
I might be using my anxiety and depression for excuses, but people don’t know how hard it is with it. It’s difficult for me to even step outside of the house into crowded areas. But I pretend that it’s all okay, but I never give eye contact. I pretend that I know everything in the world and that no one around me affects me or can ever penetrate my walls to bring me down. But that’s the mask that I always show the people around me. As though I’m fearless. I lock away my emotions that drag me down and become an emotionless robot. And I’m tired. But nobody seems to like the real me behind the mask.
For all of you going through the same thing, please know that you’re not alone. Reach out, even if its online and you don’t know this other person. You need as much support as you can get. Don’t carry all that baggage and pain by yourself, it gets tiring and hurtful. Vent when you need to, scream even though you feel as though you can’t be heard, cry as though you were filling a ocean, it’s okay.
Blogging has given me the ability to believe that my voice is heard, that my opinion matters.
And it’s okay not to be okay.