"Deal With It!"

I'm tired of the degrading insults my mind shouts at me whenever I see myself. It doesn't take much for the slanders to pour from my thoughts--a mirror, looking down, or my kinesthetic sense kicking into hyper mode can spark it. I'm tired of enduring, tired of thinking, "Deal with it. You'll get over it soon." It's been seven years! SEVEN PAINFUL YEARS of thinking how revolting my stomach pouch is, how grotesque my thighs are when I sit down, how my short statute makes my limbs look stubby and clumsy.

I've tried in the past to do something about it. I've made progress four years ago in my freshman year of high school where I wouldn't eat lunch. I got down to a respectful 113lbs. Then the dreadful summer camps with their all-you-can-eat style meals came along, with an extra 5 pounds in 3 weeks. My safety net was cross country in the fall, where I envisioned losing the extra weight with all the miles of running. But it never worked. I would just maintain.

I'm now in my senior year of high school, and no progress has been made. I ran all summer "training" for cross country with my friends, and fell into uncontrolled eating. I've reached 117-point-something pounds as my low, but my monstrous eating binges have led to weight gain. I dream, every day and night, of owning a thinner figure, but fail in my self discipline. I feel ashamed to admit it, ashamed at my weakness. But I feel now's a time for redemption. It's December 18th, three months into my adult life, and I regret not starting off on a better foot.

Now isn't the time to sulk about my mistakes and gorge on unnecessary food. It's the time to mend my ways. I don't know yet how I shall approach my problem, but I begin with this message to confess my past so I may forget and focus on my goal.

This is skkai, signing off at 123.8lbs. Stay healthy, readers!