No one checks this blog, so I guess that makes this my safe place. There are things running around in my head that I can't put out on facebook or twitter or tumblr. It feels selfish to put the burden of them on the people who would read my words. Here, it would only be some random stranger. One who won't give two damns what I have to say.

I find myself wanting to die. The thought "What's the point?" comes into my head every day. I just don't see a reason really. Wake up alone, go to a job that any moron could do, eat lunch alone, come home, walk my dog, eat something. Get on the internet. Go to bed alone. What's the point in that life? I'm never going to be a singer. Sure I can talk about it. I can sing in community theater shows. But I'll never be good enough to make a living off of that. No one wants to be around me. People care, sure. But there are always other things more important for them to worry about. I'm ugly, lazy and worthless. I look in the mirror and just want to rip all the ugliness off. But I know even that won't help. Because I'd still be me. Annoying, needy, depressing me. I know I come off as desperate. It's because I am. I just want to feel wanted. I want to feel worth while. But I know that's selfish. And I know that I can't rely on other people to make me feel worth while. But I don't know how to feel it any other way. So I just want to go away. I don't want to live like this for the rest of my life, but I'm so stupid and useless that I can't get out of this fucking rut I've dug myself down into. But I'm not going to kill myself. Not because of any noble reason. Or because I "know it'll get better", because I just don't believe that anymore. I won't kill myself because I am more scared of dying than I am of being alone.

So here I am. No one will know outside my door, but I'm not okay. No one will know how badly I want to disappear and start over. No one will know, because knowing would hurt them.

So, I'll tell you, Uncaring No one. I hate being alone. I loathe myself and want to rip my body to shreds. And I want to disappear.

Maybe a car will hit me tomorrow.

L

Is it too early to say "Good Morning"?

It's 5:00 AM.

This happens sometimes, where I'm just wide awake. Thankfully the stalking insomnia decided to strike on a Saturday night when I had nothing planned for Sunday morning. Most of the time it has really unfortunate timing.

Tonight's insomnia beast was fueled by late night caffeine and afternoon naps and is snacking on insecurities and fear. Which are like the ultimate comfort food to IB.

There's so much on my mind. And there's so much that I feel, that I've tried to relate to the people who keep me sane and calm. But it's just too much, right now.

I was supposed to have bariatric surgery. It wasn't a secret, really, although I didn't say anything on Facebook or Twitter or whatever social media site you prefer. And there were some people that I didn't want to know.

That surgery was cancelled. It was cancelled for a very good reason, that I don't care to go into for the millionth time. People tell me that they're sorry it was cancelled, thinking that I'd be angry about it. And I was upset when I found out. So upset that I needed to leave work and take a half day to gather myself. And I came to the realization that I wasn't angry about the cancellation. I could have had some serious and possible life-threatening results, if they'd gone through with it. 

But. I am angry at something. 

And what I'm angry about is the fact that from the moment they cancelled my surgery, they basically abandoned me. No calls to tell me what to do next. Nothing. And when I finally got a call back after me having to call two or three people, I was basically told that they "recommended" that I start over. 

From the beginning.

The beginning that I started in January.

That has been six months of waiting and they want me to do it again? Absolutely not.

So, when I called this journal "Journey", I had no idea how accurate that title would be. 

Here I am, six months wiser and six months thinner. And I've made a few more decisions for myself.

Decision 1:

I'm losing this weight on my own. It will be slower. It will be harder. But dammit, I WILL be proud of myself. After everything collapsed, I realized. I was ashamed to be having the surgery. I wasn't looking forward to having to tell people that THAT is how I'd done it. It was a means to an end, but I felt a little bit like it was a cheat and a failure. So, I'm going to stop cheating myself out of the life I keep saying I want to have and I refuse to let myself fail again. I want to go fail at a new challenge. 

Which brings me to....

Decision 2: I'm auditioning for Season Two of The Voice. And every time someone finds out, they say "I didn't even know you could sing!" and that makes me sad. Because singing and music, they're my soul. And I just... can't keep letting this fear I have keep me hiding. I ended up watching the blind auditions from the first season (another part of the reason I'm still awake), and it showed me one thing. You can be a good singer and not make it. And when I sing, I know my voice is good. But I don't know if it's unique or note-worthy and then the fear sets in. 

I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being stuck in this awful cycle that my life is in. And I'm afraid of failing at the only thing that has ever made me feel worthwhile. Because I was nothing before I started singing in 7th grade. I was invisible to anyone worth anything and easy prey for the people who needed to tear people down to make them bigger. And without singing, I'm only mediocre. I have never excelled in anything and I don't honestly know what I'll do with my life if I can't sing to people every night. 

Without music, my future is a barren wasteland of office jobs that make me lose faith in humanity and then a giant void of nothingness.

And there is NOTHING scarier to me than nothingness. 

I need to live, but I don't know how. I need strength and don't know where to find it. And I need hope, even though that hope could break at any moment.

There's a Smiths song that seems to fit right now, so that's how I'll sign off. So until the next time I can't sleep. 

God, please give me strength to do my best and the serenity to take whatever comes.

"Good times for a change. 

See the luck I've had could make a good man turn bad. 

But Please, please, please,

Let me get what I want.

Lord knows, it would be the first time."

More

Is there anything wrong with wanting more from the relationships in my life? It always feels like I'm the one that has to adjust to the way things are. I'm the one that has to lower my expectations. Well I'm sorry, but no. I deserve more. I deserve better than this. And I'm tired of excuses. Of "well this is how I am." Because you know? This is how I am. I am giving and loving and I will do anything for you. But I'm done with giving and giving and bending to the breaking point only to be pushed aside until it's convenient for other people. It's all in or nothing now. I can't be waiting around alone until people carve out a little time to pretend to care about me. 

I'm so tired of needing more from people who have no interest in giving me anything. I'm tired of talking and not being heard. Of people saying they understand me as they talk over that I'm trying to say. I'm tired of being made to feel guilty for asking for more. Of being made to feel like I'm being unreasonable and even hurtful. I feel all alone and I'm made to feel like asking to be able to reach out is a bother. Well, pretty soon, I won't ask to reach out anymore. I'll go away. And someday I'll find people who want to hear me. Someday I'll find people who actually like who I am. Who won't obsessively point out my flaws, like I don't know what they are already.

Most of all, I'll find people who'll care enough to reach out and give without me having to beg for it. No one should have to beg for love and for acceptance.

Recently, I was told an exercise to stop focusing on focusing on little things that aren't important. I was told to think about a time when I felt truly loved. And there I sat in a room full of people who could pull up a memory and remember that.

Even now, I can't think of a single memory.

I'm tired of hurting myself even more by trying to bend when there's no point.

Enough.

Oh January...

It's easy to say
"It'll happen some day."
When you know it won't happen to you.


All the good one's are gone
So you don't know what to do.
You know something's wrong 
When even the losers won't have you.


It's so easy to say 
"It'll happen some day."
When you know it won't happen to you.


You go through your mantra
"You're pretty. You're smart."
Even though you can never compare.


It's hard to be hopeful
When you're fresh out of hope.
And no one has any to spare.


It's so easy to say
"It'll happen some day."
But you know it won't happen to you.

The Poem

When I was younger, in middle school and early high school, I was desperately shy. To anyone that knows me now, that idea seems impossible. But to this day, I get a little scared before calling someone on the phone. 

When I was even younger, four and five years old, I used to ask my dad to come next door with me, to ask the neighbor kids if they wanted to play. 

What could possibly make such a little girl afraid of rejection at such an early age? But that's what I was afraid of. Afraid of hearing "No. I don't want you. There's someone more fun and interesting to play with." I don't know if they ever said, "No." But I do know that that fear is still inside of me. 

So, come back to middle school. Those awkward years that make everyone miserable. I lived on the edges of social groups, but really never got close to anyone. Except for one girl, who inexplicably stopped being my friend in 8th grade. Rejection. No. I don't want you.

I was a part of a church group and while I never made real friends, I got along alright. And I had God there with me. He wouldn't reject me. And that's when I first came across this poem. From what I've seen, the author is unknown and it's probably one you've seen many times before. 

Something made me think about it today, so I went to re-read it. Only to find that it still applies. It's long, so apologies. And sorry for the somber tone. Don't really know what's gotten into me this evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mask I Wear

Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear
For I wear a mask. I wear a thousand masks-
masks that I'm afraid to take off
and none of them are me.
Pretending is an art that's second nature with me
but don't be fooled, for God's sake, don't be fooled.
I give you the impression that I'm secure
That all is sunny and unruffled with me
within as well as without,
that confidence is my name
and coolness my game,
that the water's calm
and I'm in command,
and that I need no one.
But don't believe me. Please!

My surface may be smooth but my surface is my mask,
My ever-varying and ever-concealing mask.
Beneath lies no smugness, no complacence.
Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in fear, in aloneness.
But I hide this.
I don't want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weaknesses
and fear exposing them.
That's why I frantically create my masks
to hide behind.
They're nonchalant, sophisticated facades
to help me pretend,
To shield me from the glance that knows.
But such a glance is precisely my salvation,
my only salvation, and I know it.

That is, if it's followed by acceptance,
and if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself
from my own self-built prison walls

I dislike hiding, honestly
I dislike the superficial game I'm playing,
the superficial phony game.
I'd really like to be genuine and me.
But I need your help, your hand to hold
Even though my masks would tell you otherwise
That glance from you is the only thing that assures me
of what I can't assure myself,
that I'm really worth something.

But I don't tell you this.
I don't dare.
I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh
and your laugh would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing,
that I'm just no good
and you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my desperate, pretending game
With a facade of assurance without,
And a trembling child within.
So begins the parade of masks,

The glittering but empty parade of masks,
and my life becomes a front.
I idly chatter to you in suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's nothing
and nothing of what's everything,
of what's crying within me.
So when I'm going through my routine
do not be fooled by what I'm saying
Please listen carefully and try to hear
what I'm not saying
Hear what I'd like to say
but what I can not say.

It will not be easy for you,
long felt inadequacies make my defenses strong.
The nearer you approach me
the blinder I may strike back.
Despite what books say of men, I am irrational;
I fight against the very thing that I cry out for.
you wonder who I am
you shouldn't
for I am everyman
and everywoman
who wears a mask.
Don't be fooled by me.
At least not by the mask I wear.

Are we there yet?

January 4th, 2011


The walls are closing in on me. I can't even hear the others anymore. So dark... 


Aaaand scene!


So, I'm already tired of work. Not a good start to the new year. But, I think I'm doing a little better at the small things. Maybe picking my meals a little better. Salads instead of burgers and pizza. 


I actually weighed myself the night of my first post and found that I'm down to 346 lbs. which was just mind-boggling. I'm sure that seems like not a big deal to most people, but that just made my new year.


I've got an appointment for a consultation with a bariatric surgeon and a dietician on the 12th, so more on that next week. 


In other news, I got my first wave of new clothes from christmas money. There's nothing like new clothes that look good on you. They definitely help keep my sunny disposition up. And it doesn't hurt that pants that would've been tight on my months ago are now able to be taken off without unbuttoning them.


All in all, we're off the a start. Not a great one. Not a bad one. Just a start.


And that's what counts.

The Beginning

January 2nd, 2011


A new year and another bunch of resolutions that I swear I'm going to keep this time. I don't know of this year will be different. But I hope they will be. 


Here's my list of to-do's.


- Look into converting to Judaism 
- Start on the path of losing all my weight Goal? 175 lbs.
- Go back to college
- Learn guitar and start writing one song (be it good or bad) everyday


Boy, do I love setting myself easy challenges!


But there's always a beginning when everything looks impossible.


So here I am.


My name is Laura.
I'm a 25 year old, ex-Episcopalian, looking for faith, hope and contentment.
I weigh more than a bathroom scale can read. (Last I checked 365)
I need to lose 200 lbs. and cure from my type 2 diabetes.
I have a 52' bust, a 46' waist and 57' hips.
I'm single and not happy about it.


This is who I am, but not who I'll be.


Happy New Year, Laura. 


We got this.