It's the start of a new year, and I've promised myself I'd change some things.
The truth is, I really don't like myself. Surprise, surprise. I can't stand the sound of my own voice. I can't stand the way I dress, act, and present myself. I look decent enough taking my own pictures of myself, when it's only my face and eyes showing. But when others take them for me, they always capture my entire hideous body; my short but huge body frame. I'm damn sick of looking at it, facing it, crying over my own problem that I keep making my excuses for. I'm also tired of others looking down on me, because I can't conquer it, and had been trying to conquer for eight years. It is a battle I keep coming back to, and escaping, trying to find a way out after I've had enough of it.
I want the muscle behind the fat to show. I want the person inside of this seemingly shallow and shy soul to come out. For 2014, I want to find myself. I won't let people ruin what I've worked this hard and long for. Next month I'm going to Washington DC to be honored as a Future Leader of Medical Science, and I can't be more ecstatic over it!
So, I've begun the change. I spent my Christmas money on my wardrobe. I'm giving up my stoner hippie look and am wearing sweaters, flannels, blouses, long necklaces, skirts, and short dresses to school and in public. I spend a lot more time on my hair, on my planning, on things that didn't matter to me so much last year. The only thing I haven't really put into practice yet was wearing makeup outside of the house. I've bought myself a new, cuter backpack and binder. I sort of miss my old white one, with the four symbols scribbled on the front. I only threw it out because the front of it was ripping. People who caught eye of them gave me strange looks, like I was some occultist. It was sort of like a scarlet letter to me. They stand for people that have inspired, and continue to amaze me.
The hardest part for me is the exercise, and the weight loss. Just like any American or person really, I love food and I hate work. Today during PE, I was the first one in the weight room and the last one out. I found out that can lift over 250lbs with my legs, and approximately half of that with my arms. I'm starting track training as well, since our final for PE is to run a mile with a time under twelve minutes. My best time was eight, but that was when I was much smaller than I am now.
For three days, school went on. Girls who discreetly and silently laughed at my clumsiness in PE are suddenly watching me work out, paying more attention to this girl who didn't really speak much. In English today, we played a trivia game about Shakespeare. I was put into a team with the people I feared the most, who became friends for the moment when I gave the correct answer to a question no one else knew it to. I don't have a real friend at school yet, but I have a friend in God. Whatever this year will bring, whatever he wants from me, I hope all this buildup will lead to a climax, and a successful one.
My ex won't even talk to me anymore. He was already trying to get another girl two weeks after our breakup. Sad is the story, of two strangers who have met, gotten to know each other, invested time into each other, slowly giving more and more of themselves to the other person, trusting them as much as a family member, loving them like one, never suspecting they'd do anything to hurt you; only to become strangers again in the end.
Having him ignore me is a bittersweet. I don't want any more drama and bullshit. I don't want him to reach my psyche any further. But for the rest of this year, will I have to watch him ignore me, with that pouty look in his eye, without a word in? As much as I hate what he did to my mind, I can't look straight into them or watch him laugh, or else it all floods back. In those eyes, as dumb as it is, I see all the reasons I fell in love with him to begin with.
Listening to: Pink Floyd.