Wow man, fucking original story.
She comes in when she's mad about the fact that she doesn't really like her job, the town she's in or the fact that her husband left her for a man (painful), and focuses her drive to succeed in life, on none other than dear Billie D. She tells me she's concerned for me, she says I have to have drive, I'll eventually die of diseases, I can't waste any more years of my life sitting or laying down either it is in front of the TV or or sleeping for twelve hours every night. She says that if i don't do a 180, i will completely cease to exist, no friends, no life, no music (chosen career path, right could've guessed it) and nooooooo future.
She leaves and says one more thing, just to sort of let it sting a bit: "i wish i could be proud of you"
And she got up and went to bed, and it wasn't the first time she made me cry (though I'd never let her see that i did) it was that for the first God Damn Time, I realised why i was crying.
It fucking hurt.
And it hurt because it was true. If it were something completely outrageous like her calling me a chair I'd think she was a little off, and I'd probably laugh, I'd ignore it because it's impossible. But all those things, the words that were lashing out and and hitting me in the face, they were right on. I am overweight, a shameful 240lbs for a 5'8" woman, I mean it reaks unreasonable and that's why i never say it in public.
I have hardly any friends though I know amazing people, incredible mentors and artists that can make me into a respectable and potentially known artist myself. i do nothing all day, because i can, i live and eat for free, sneakily order pizza before my mom gets home and watch more hours of TV than is OK on any level. Where the hell am I, where am I headed, Why Why Why Why, "go see a therapist, I don't want to, you should really see one, I'm not going..."
All of this to say, I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to wait to be happy when I'm a size 4, or wish i was someone else, or look up tummy tuck online at 3 in the mourning. I don't want my life to be a another thing i missed out on, another failure, another intervention.
100 in 1 year.
I want to loose a hundred pounds in one year, i want to reset things that I'm doing to myself, habits, that hold me back and make me someone I've never wanted to be.
I want to be proud of myself, forget ashamed, forget lost, forget wasted opportunities.
I want all that self help shit that people laugh about, but kinda wanna know if it really works. i want drive. i want love. i want self-respect. And more importantly, i want, to want all these things every single day, never to believe that i can live my life later.
my life is now, my love for music is now, my friends my family, it's now and I have no way of knowing if it'll ever be later.
So this is MAY 6TH, the day of the intervention, and not from my mom, or some asshole shouting out of his car, or Dr. fucking OZ!
It's for me, the blog is just to keep me on my heels,
instead of my ass.
B.
