In life, nothing is permanent. I’ve learned throughout my years that nothing can stay the same. I have always had my own personal ups and downs, but no matter what occurred to me I could always see in the future that it wasn't always going to be like that. At first, it was a good way to cope with a bad situation, the idea that it wasn't always going to be like that. But now, that idea has festered into something negative. I can't enjoy something in my life, I can't feel happy for such an extended amount of time, I can't cherish the things that bring me joy. No matter how good things get, there's always a negging feeling at the back of my head that it won't last so what's the point?
My mind has always had a habit for exploring dangerous thoughts, ever since I was little I had a knack for thinking of a worse case scenario and overthinking it to the point that for a moment, those thoughts became real. I learned to make myself feel horrible at nothing but a thoughts notice. At any second I can make myself genuinely cry without even trying. My misery became second nature to me before I could even ride a bike.
I've always been in my own head. It was like my own personal world. It was a place where I could do anything, go anywhere, be anyone. When I was extremely young I always put myself in the shoes of heroes from stories that I adored, at it was fun being someone else. Then the problems began. I liked being anyone that wasn't me, I was bored with what Alex was up to, I wanted be cooler, I wanted to escape from myself. It became an aspect of my everyday life, I always daydreamed and ignored what was happening in real life. I never stared at myself, I never cared about what I as a person was becoming. For the longest time, I didn't even known what I looked like. I payed no attention, and that was what lead to my obesity.
My weight was always a part of me. I didn't even remember the transition from a normal preschooler to the only overweight child in all of elementary school. All the other boys loved going out and playing out in the fields, racing each other, having a soccer match everyday. I hated all of it, I hated being the slowest, I hated being picked last, I hated being last place in everything. My body limitations had me go pursue a different course in school. I loved stories, I loved crazy concepts, and thinking up the coolest situations in my head while everyone else ran circles around me at the playground was the norm. I focused on my mind, and that seemed to pay off as a was put in more advanced classes. The drawbacks however, were massive.
My body wasn't improving at all, every year seemed to see my physical health worsen. I couldn't care less, I was busy on fun stuff. Youtube, TV, videogames, anything to distract me from the outside world. I feel that the worse part was, I was somewhat aware of what I was doing to myself. I knew that I was destroying my life, I just didn't care. My self esteem was non existent, but I always acted like the big man. Making jokes and trying to be as sarcastic as possible. I started mistreating friends, and I didn't even notice. For a large portion of my life, I was wearing a mask. I even got nickname for myself at school, “J”, to differentiate when I was living with my persona and when I was living as myself with my real name Alex.
At some point, I became the person I was trying to imitate. I was a jerk. I was too insecure and stupid to see that I was living a lie. But, just like before, some part of me was still aware. I was scared to see the real me, and I kept going on as all my other escapes from myself. The stories and games I used to love became an unhealthy coping mechanism, but I didn't stop. When I was young I always stayed in my room, which worried my family. I tried bettering myself and going out a bit more, but I always came back to my fantasy world in the end. Then something specific happened. My obese body had broken my bed, made it crooked at some points. I still slept in it, but it didn't help my posture. Slowly I began avoiding being in my bed more and more as being in it became more difficult. I was actively avoiding one of the places I used to escape, in order to help my health. At first I was a bit proud of myself for making that decision, but whenever I did get on it it had another effect on my other then just being uncomfortable.
Anytime I went to bed, getting up was harder, reaching out to my things was more of a challenge, and it would make horrible noises when I got on it to remind me of my overbearing weight. The bed became an extremely painful reminder of what I have become. Both physically and symbolically. Getting out of my rut feels impossible, I can’t ever truly reach out to others, and it was my own poor life decisions that put me into this specific situation. My escape became my main source of pain. A cycle that would only make me a worse person as time would go on.
I hurt my friends. I actively made people around me feel bad, and I was too late to notice. By the time I realized the horrible actions I was committing I had already pushed so many people away from me. I can't keep doing this. I'm no longer going to try be someone I’m not, and try to put people down so that I can raise myself up. I refuse to see the things I use for entertainment as an escape. I want to better myself, and the first step to that is to share with problems with others.
Thank you for hearing me out, and I hope you can all forgive me.