2006-05-11 - 4:54 p.m.

Okay, so this is and has always been my blog. For the most part, I don't censor myself. But sometimes, some things I may have an inkling to say, maybe I didn't say them. Only sometimes.

This time, I didn't want to say what I'm about to say, even though I know it to be completely true but once something comes out of your head and into the air or onto paper, it just makes it so much realer. And I really do have my face all scrunched up right now at the thought of it being so real but then again, it's in my mind all the time. Might as well gon' head and say it.

I have low self-esteem.

Periot.

Have had low self-esteem for as long as I can remember having memory. ALWAYS compared myself to others and wished I could have what they had. I remember being that way even before I started to gain weight at the age of 9. I had a disorder that caused me to break out in chicken-pox like sores every single solitary summer - maybe even year-round - from 3 months old. It left my skin COVERED in black marks, many of which give my skin the uneven look it has today. And mostly on the parts of the body that are exposed when clothes are worn - legs and arms. My arms have faded SIGNIFICANTLY. But my legs... They're just a lost cause.

So even as a child, I was ALWAYS self-conscious about the way I looked. ALWAYS. Sad about it. Hurt about it. Mad about it. All that.

Here I am today, after having struggled with my weight for the past 16 years. Even when I was 70 pounds lighter, the lightest I have ever been in my "adult" life, I wasn't happy 'cause I wanted to be 40 pounds lighter than that.

It's been rough, to say the least.

Which brings me to the point of this entry.

I'm fat.

Period.

Periot!

I am fat.

That's all there is to it. It is what it is. I am carrying 213 pounds on a 5'3" frame at the current moment. Carrying it better than anyone could expect, that's for sure. But carrying it, nonetheless.

So couple this fact with the fact that many females my age are in the 125 - 140lb range. Where does that leave me? Looking totally unlike most of the females my age that I know, making me feel even more self-conscious.

And I live in Miami. Even worse.

I would think anyway.

I say that because I can't seem to escape male attention.

I know that subconsciously, because of things in the past, I hold onto this weight as a cover, a shield. This, I know. No doubt about it. And I always hope that when I meet "TheOne", he'll be able to look past it and see the "real" me hiding on the inside.

Mental issues, I know. LOL.

But dammit if this damn weight don't draw all the wrong kinds of attention!

Here I am yesterday afternoon after I get off work, feeling like a complete slob, unwittingly walking right into a domestic dispute. The police are called and I keep my mouth shut 'cause I'm trying to be as uninvolved as I can be, wanting to blend in with the sofa because I just can't believe I'm even being exposed to what is going on.

The damn police officer BLATANTLY makes his feelings for me known. Big wedding band on the ring finger, just got through discussing that his daughter and I were born in the SAME YEAR, so we are the SAME AGE, and this fool is STEADY hitting on me.

"Officer!", I wanted to say, "Please focus on what's going on here right now instead of imagining what you could do with me!"

I mean, DAMN. CAN I GET A BREAK?!?!

GEEZ!

EVERYWHERE I go, I get harrassed. And yes, I use the term "harrassed" whereas someone else might call it "constantly being flirted with". I call it "harrassed" 'cause it happens EVERYWHERE I DAMN GO! EVERYWHERE!

I went to drop off a package to a doctor the other night. I pull up to the security gate, 9 at night, big ol' t-shirt, hair all everywhere, frazzled 'cause I got turned around (not lost, just turned around) in the area before I found my destination, and I can't handle my damn business for the security guard "complementing" me. Man wouldn't lift the gate until I let him give me his damn number, 'cause he damn sho wasn't 'bout to get mine.

I'm really 'bout to start wearing a ring. Marry my damn self or something. 'Cause obviously this weight ain't enough of a deterrent to these damn men. It's gross. Really, truly gross and I'm sick of it. Sick of going into a business to handle business and not being able to leave without some guy looking at me salaciously or making a salacious comment about something on me or just being too damn friendly. I'm here to get stitches removed. JUST SHUT UP AND TAKE THE STITCHES OUT DAMMIT!!!

LOL!

Okay. I just started really laughing at myself 'cause it's really kind of funny. All of it, actually. Even though it does get on my nerves to no end. It still is kinda funny.

But still. Leave me the hell alone dammit!

And I won't lie, I have used it to my advantage on more than one occassion.

But still.

LEAVE ME ALONE!

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