一番

Kombanwa!

So this is my first entry. Gosh, even now, I 'm pretty sure that this will become one of those things that I do regularly for a while (a week) and then stop. But, no. "No", I say. I want to improve my life.

This evening, after eating two cartons of ice cream in a row, a bowl of rice with one egg and a can of tuna, and a whole bag of cookies, I began trying to figure out why it is that I eat and cannot stop. I have been wondering this for a long time now. Years. I dislike the idea of this defining who I am.

This girl who eats uncontrollably, who is louder than she ought to be, who is judgmental and sophomoric, who is forceful of her own beliefs over others but preaches that universal acceptance is best; I am a person with so many things that I don't want to live around. I like to think that I try so hard to like myself, but in reality I hate myself and I know it. I am disgusted with the person that I am and am so reliant upon the world to tell me what I should do about it that I won't change.

Ah, here is the stomach ache. The excessive amount of dairy and sugar and the excessive amount of food volume is beginning to cause more pain than an hour ago. I want to change. I want to change yet changing any small pebble of my existence is like cracking a rock with a dripping faucet. It's working slowly, wasting resources and agitating others with it's 'drip, drip dripping', and as it splashes against the rock to be cracked, one can see that the idea of cracking a rock with a dripping faucet is ridiculous. I have no blunt objects to maim my "rocks" with. I only have slow-moving water. And I am impatient. I also am annoyed by the dripping and the inefficiency. Is such a person reliable? Is such a person able to do okay in the world? I have no trust in myself that I can. I want to lie and say that I love myself and believe in myself and know that I can do whatever I set my mind to, but it is a lie that hasn't done my very much good by keeping it up.

I don't act like someone who loves themselves. And when I say that I do, the lie is so great and heavy within me that I feel as if it causes me to hate myself more. Somewhere inside is working to find if I really was sexually abused. I know and can feel it. But what do I do until I find out? How do I focus on the here and now? How can I let go of the horrible unkindnesses that I am still hurt about? And when I am completely honest and unsuppressed by my fear of my parents hating me or my anger swallowing up my love for the world, will I become bitter and more unhappy? I'm afraid to know.

Chotto, osoiyo ne.

oyasumi nasai

-キャット子