Whenever I look in the mirror, I get sick to my stomach.
I mean, look at me. Arms and legs that resemble tree trunks, skimpy, limp dishwater blonde hair, a stomach that protrudes, and absolutely no energy at all. Let's face it: I'm about as strong as a wet teabag.
I get picked on by the kids at school. At home, life is not much better. My parents are always ragging on me to lose weight (or to eat the right things) or to exercise. The fact is this: I do exercise, and it doesn't seem to be doing me much good.
I have never been what one would call "little". I have always been a big girl. I take after my dad's side of the family: most of them are (or were) big, some to the point of being morbidly obese, like my aunt Panda; she was so big she could not get out of bed and spent the last few remaining years of her life tethered to an oxygen hose.
It used to disgust me to look at Aunt Panda. I was so scared I would end up being just like her. While I am no lightweight, my biggest fear is to end up being in bed unable to do anything for myself or to have everyone wait on me hand and foot.
That is no way to live!
The kids think it is hilarious to throw food at me (french fries or bread sticks, mainly) or call me nasty names. I often spend my days in the nurse's office, crying my eyes out, 'cause I can't deal with the catcalls for another minute. It's horrible! It's no wonder I fake being sick, just so I can get out of going to school to face the torture or humiliation from the other kids!
Well, I've managed to depress myself again. Gonna get out of here so I don't miss the bus; then when I get home, I am gonna say I'm not hungry and just lay in bed and feel sorry for myself again. UGH!! I hate being fat and I hate my life!!
~To be continued!~