Tuesday, 28 April 2009


i said it on facebook, and i will say it again:
just once i wish i was able to open my wardrobe and know that what i pull out will fit and looks good....

i am sick of feeling like this.
i see my face and i smile: i like that i have blue eyes and perpetually rosy cheeks and blonde flicks around my ears.
then i look down, the feeling changes.
i am sick of feeling like this.
but it is not the feeling. i can handle the feeling.
it is what i see in the mirror.
and i wonder why i got this way
and then i remember that i'm lazy and that i eat too much crap.
and that is why i look in the mirror and see lack of tone and that almost all my clothes look horrible on me and remember that this is why i feel like crap.
this is why i feel fat.
this is why i look down from the clifftops and wonder what its like to fly.

5 mins

Monday, 27 April 2009

sometimes you just don't know what you are supposed to do or who you are supposed to be

I probably shouldn't reveal my work before it's been said, but, in all honesty, i need your help.
i know that there are some people that read this that are very adept with their words.

i have an english studies speech this coming week and, perfectionist that i am, i wanna make sure it's right.... the topic is the title of this post, and it has to be about 5-7 minutes. i think theres meant to be some other kind of presentation with this, like, visual aids, but im really not sure how to incorporate that into this......

There is pressure everywhere you look, everywhere you turn. Pressure to be a good kid, good student, good friend, good other-half, and then the pressure to be cool...whatever the hell that is... yes, I am aware I am probably the last person that should be talking about what’s cool, but hey, I said it.

All this pressure is enough to turn the emotional state of oneself to mush. And then there is the ever-popular affirmation from supportive parents and teachers alike: ‘always remember to just be yourself’ What does that mean?!?!

At this stage in life, we are still struggling with that question every day: ‘who am I?’

It’s easy enough to answer ‘what am I’ because, from the most cynical answer to the most heartfelt, what, and who are not the same thing. We are exposed to seminars and lectures and worksheets and handouts, all with the aim to inspire us into trying to develop our own identity.

Influences from parents, friends, teachers, society, and the media all influence the developing mind, to the point of warping them completely. There are so many external factors pressing upon us, influencing us. As clichéd as it is, role models and personal heroes play a huge part in every kid’s life: as a child, I never really had any heroes, I never thought ‘wow, I want to be like them when I grow up’. However, as I get older I realise that it was my father more than anyone else, his patience, kindness and intelligence, that I drew my inspiration from, and panicked whenever I saw myself drifting from that.

I’m lucky enough that my parents have almost always said ‘I will be proud of you whatever you choose to do in life’. From what I’ve heard, others aren’t so lucky. Children have such great expectations placed on them by their parents that their own dreams and desires can become buried in the effort involved in trying to please. We end up the product of our parents dreams, trying to live the life they wanted for themselves.

Then there is the opposite effect, where you’re left without any guidance or instruction whatsoever. Left to wander through adolescence, and hopefully emerge at the end okay, and at the very least, alive. God knows enough of us are killed by carelessness, and/or stupidity.

But it’s times like that, when we’re left to our own devices, that people really begin to show their true colours, when those few of us take a step up and become the leaders, rather than the followers. And while we may not have much idea from personal experience, there are the stories. Even fairytales have morality meanings, as little red riding hood is well aware.

In this year level there are multiple people with the same name. If I can think straight there are .... three Tom’s, four Michael’s, two Isabelle’s, two Liv’s and four Nick’s, in our year. Names are repeated endlessly. At what point do we remember people by their personality rather than their name. If a certain name has negative connotations for us, we immediately bring up our guard, and our prejudice. Not only this, but turn it around: family names hold reputation. Many a member feels obligated to uphold said name, sacrificing individuality and personal future in the process.

But it is in education that the nurturing of our future really occurs. Remember careers counselling? I do. At the ripe old age of 14, at the end of year 9, I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, where I wanted to do further study (there never was any question: i was doing it whether i wanted to or not), what courses I wanted to do. Even now, that seems rather pointless asking me such questions at that age, since I hardly had a grasp on what was going on around me, let alone four years into the future!

But out of all the efforts involved with careers counselling, I remember last year’s interview above all others: only 7 minutes or so of my time gone, easy stuff, since I had not yet failed a class and had teacher recs for all my subjects. My father and I sat down with the teachers and talked, with dad, as usual, having little idea why we were there: the transition of year 11 to 12 seemed inordinately simple to him, as it should be. But, leaving the interview, I got into the hallway and freaked out: everyone had mentioned at least four times that I did not know what I wanted to do with my life.

You know that feeling like everything is out of your control, even though it shouldn’t be that way? Well, that’s how I felt. No one listened to me, even though I said exactly what I wanted and how I was going to get it. I argued with my dad for 10 minutes in the hall, because he was no help whatsoever and, much to my dismay only affirmed the teacher’s assumptions of my own ignorance towards my future. He left. I left, but not for class. The fact that I had been totally railroaded about my own decisions totally threw me. Sitting in the sun, trying desperately to hold back tears seemed to be the only logical solution: it’s hard to feel sad in the bright white of sunshine.

There is one last thing before I bore your socks off: siblings.

In my case, I have two, a brother in year 10 and a sister in year 9. He is the sporty one, great at bowling in cricket; she is the Queen Bee, with the potential to be top of the food chain at school. And as for me, I’m the brains, though it doesn’t seem like it often, especially not these past months.

As she gets older, I realise with a twinge that my sister is more than I am in just about every way. She is physically superior, and mentally very, very sharp, with the potential to be a brilliant writer, apparently. She has this drawing skill... beautiful and confusing in the same instance.

I love her for these, and in this sense of the term, I am incredibly jealous of her. But as it stands, my personality is almost totally different to hers, and that’s what I hold onto when I realise that she could very easily take away everything that I pride myself upon, especially the writing. It is these things that I thought made me unique, helped make me who I am. But I realise now that it’s not true, not totally, anyway.

With constant disputes over, in the grand scheme of life, petty things, like who is first and who is second ranked in class, who hooked up with who on the weekend, it is easy to lose sight of the deeper things, and sometimes, of yourself. It’s the instance within which we wake up to reality, that truly makes us see where we are, and who we want to be. We are the creators of ourselves, regardless of what others think. And though sometimes it is difficult and confusing, and you’re secretly only bluffing confidence, it’s the way in which we learn from experiences, and the way we deal with them, that makes us who we are, even if there is no inkling as to exactly who that is. Without our own opinion of ourselves, we are nothing to the rest of the world. Because we cannot define ourselves by our accomplishments of the material kind. Though, at first glance, life works this way, it is in fact the impact we have upon others that defines us, that we will be remembered for, that makes us who we are.

how'd i go?
any improvements, feel free to comment me.

Sunday, 26 April 2009


i write today in a considerably better, more normal, mood than i did last time.
i have.....
a dress
a necklace

and am incredible pleased with this.

as a rule, i am a terrible shopper. partially because i have very little fashion sense, and i am well aware of this. partly because one shopping session turns into a day-long event. today, for example, including travel time, was about 5 hours long.
death inducing is it not?!

but then.... i got, after about an hour of being pissed off that i was there and not getting what i wanted, into the swing of it and started looking around.
and so, i am here, with a little treasure trove of sophistication.

and it is this little treasure that will take me away from my three-week-long worry and lead me into fun and drink and food and dancing, all rolled into one night.

Saturday, 25 April 2009

sleep and confusion

the unknown, the possibility of a strange, previously unknown life stretches out before me. the potential, in truth, scares me, it is a life i never wanted. not now. it makes life all too real. my cheeks flush at the thought. this room is too hot. get me out. help!

enough of that.
dwelling on possibility accomplishes nothing.

dwelling on the more important things, like upcoming deadlines, needs to take precedence.
while all else around me flies, i stand still, unable to take a step fowards until that black, then vivid colour, envelops me.

Tuesday, 21 April 2009

Economics and $$$

Politics is not normally a topic i talk about because i am of the firm belief that people shouldn't have an opinion on things, least of all how the government should be run, until all the facts are known. its why i don't like bitching - its all one-sided.
However, today i must make an exception.
these money hand-outs that some, but not all, are getting in the mail today... i believe are bad news.
i believe that what the government is doing now is going to put us into a recession. last year we weren't in one. now, as everyone keeps telling us to think, we are coming into one.
two more years before elections.
its not about liberal or labor. its about effectively running the country. if that means we have a year or so of stagnant growth - ie none, then so be it. from what i have heard from Rann and Rudd, these packages (don't they sound like like a little present?!) are designed to 'stimulate' the economy. sounds to me like theyre trying to get it moving again, moving and improving. bad idea, i think.

i don't know the facts. i have never studied politics, nor economics, so i don't know the facts. i am like millions of other Aussies, with not quite enough idea about whats going on.
but i can see this going bad. very bad.

Monday, 20 April 2009

My Oxygen

falling through barriers of inhibition, into a space where only honesty and desire reside.
taken by an orange, and received with a gasp, the first, but certainly not the last of this particular moment in time.
tired of repetitive questions of reassurance, rip, gone, no turning back.
sudden inhalation and i am thrown into the world, kicking and squirming my way into conscious thought.
there is no world outside these four walls, is there? surely not, for all that is needed exists beside me.
unexpected tears from an unexpected source bring silent satisfaction from my part: all an indication that my efforts to be accepted by the most junior of the family are successful.
several places, several ways, a dispute over the brushing of lips turns into laughter and a tumble shoulder over shoulder.
alone in the same room as always before, yet seems somehow even more empty knowing that i am kept always with Him now, and not just to myself
for you are my oxygen, and i would choke without you.

Friends, Family, Repetition and Enlightenment

Well, on a rather inconsequential note, this will be my 50th post for the year. Since it’s only April, let’s see if I can get something along the lines of 150 or something like that :) yay for 50

Now, in the most recent previous post I mentioned that there were other things to talk about.
This is one of them. I was silent for most of the week, be it from listening to others, of just choosing not to shatter the sound of the bush with my own voice.

Rarely do I get a true sense of calm when I’m thinking, or I’m frustrated, and am even LESS likely to achieve this when both are in effect. But, sitting inside Hollow Mountain, in an eroded spot, looking over the immense space before me, there was a moment of silence from the three others with me. And in this moment, I found it: calm, and wonder.
Yay for mini-enlightenments.
It would have been rather sad had I not managed to find this at some point on the trip, since I was in such a beautiful place. Well, not beautiful as in gorgeous, but beautiful as in real.
The irony is that for a lot of it, had I walked 30 mins down the road from my place I would have a very similar view.
There is something that I have very little patience for, and that is immaturity. I understand that, in saying this, several people will open their mouths and quickly point out that I am not the best person to be saying this since, like everyone, I have my moments, but the fact is I’m getting over these moments. Some things, like ladybirds and pom poms will always be excitement inducing because of the memories attached to them, but a loud, shrill voice declaring the same thing repeatedly, is not my style, nor my cup of tea.

I was well aware of what I was getting into in signing up, and was, I’ll freely admit, very apprehensive of what was to come. But I cannot fully express the self control it took not to make like a typical Porteous sibling that I am and tell the gods-honest truth about what was being said to me...
in my household I have grown up with a younger brother and sister that are both within 3 years of me (brother and I are 23 months apart). As a result, there is an excruciating amount of sibling rivalry. So, to keep up with one another, we would usually poke fun at one another to see how far one another’s limits were. If someone was singing, the other two would turn around and yell 'shut UP! You can't sing, you sound horrible' to which the singer in question would announce 'no I’m not' and sing louder.
Nowadays we join in singing, which usually has the unintended effect of stopping their song :D
Now that I think about it, having two younger siblings is probably the reason that I can talk to younger people better than I can older: traditionally I was the older one.

Having said this, I did have to give in to frustration a little, and state, venom-free (that’s the beauty of drinking things, you don’t have to look at them or make your voice any more interesting than a monotone whilst responding), that I had already heard the same thing several times. Repetition is another thing that irritates me, as is the unnecessary emphasis of 'dude, I’m not kidding' when there was no indication that I doubted it. Indeed, it seems like I should make like a primary school teacher and use my singsong voice.
No, I won't - those things alarm me. Treat kids with honesty, not honey-sweet bullshit.


We seem to find friends in the most unusual of places, or, rather, people we are compatible with, in my case. I’m not truly sure why I am so tentative with using the word 'friend' to describe someone. All I know is that if I call someone my friend, then it means they’re a close friend. I don't have some-time friends. I have people I coexist with. And there are a lot more of them than there are friends.
However, this was pointed out to me last night courtesy of a conversation about something I know all too much about. Not because I started it, or was in any way involved, but because it has happened to me on several occasions. And it is for this reason that I prefer having male friends than female friends - there’s less hidden bullshit, and more honesty. I know I have the capability to be a snake, but for the most part I keep my dislike of certain personalities hidden from everyone but those close friends and my family, who, as Imi has pointed out, now know that I complain about people complaining.
Yes, the full circle has run its course. Irony much?
I do try not to, promise :)

so it’s with this thought in mind, and a rather immense 'thank you' said to me last night that I wonder if this was really what I was meant for: for experiencing these things, and then having the capability to pass my knowledge and advice onto others. I am not asked for advice much anymore. Possibly, because the fact is that I am not the smartest cookie in class anymore. But that’s okay, its only school work for that. It’s the friend-stuff that bothers me. But indeed, there seems to be a correlation between fewer friends and less requests for advice on a particular thing. C’est la vie. It’s okay.
Because, like I said to him last night, you can look around and see all these people that are not as wholesome as you are, you just have to see that there are good people out there too, and that some of those, are your friends. So you need to cling to that fact, and those friends, because it's those that are rare to find.
I thank my lucky stars (Orion’s belt) every day that something friend-related happens, that I have those select few that I know I could trust with anything. There’s the original 4, plus two new inclusions, one for relationship reasons, another... is an enigma to me, Mr Daniel that you are.
Something about him just makes me want to trust him. and though I sometimes find his obsession with manual weapons alarming or distasteful (if used in conjunction with the notion of cutting one of us up, or final fantasy ...... what can I say, I’m a nerd, or a dork depending on who you ask, but I’m not a truly violent one. that's saved for play-fighting^^) there’s a child-like honesty about life, which I love to be around.

So, to all those that read this far down the post:
Well done on your endurance, and I want you to take this thought with you:

Friends, true friends, the ones that you are totally compatible with in terms of personality, are hard to find, and everyone has someone, or will have them, in their life at some point. So, it is with this knowledge that I ask you to tell this friend, or friends of you are lucky enough to have more than one of these souls with you, what they mean to you. Because sometimes it is these random acts of kindness to people that can make someone’s day so unbelievably better.

1 hour

Sunday, 19 April 2009

Home Again..... the summary

i return from victoria
a little heavier than before (which is weird) and a lot more scratched than before (bushes do that to you if you walk through them)
many an occurrence on the trip, though there are only a few things that really stand out....
including this extra thing brought home that i really wish i hadnt....

livvy has a cold !!!

i hate getting sick - it mucks up my entire plan for this week, especially... i'm out all week, and if im not out, i'm working on homework.

but that is the coming week.... allow me to talk about the past week, the one sepnt in a tent with someone that by the end of it drove me insane. and im sure that by some method i irritated her too, but lets face it, at least i act my age.

okay, thats bordering on bitching, which would be so so soooooo easy to do since my ideas and proprities, let alone values and maturity are WAY different than said tent partner. cest la vie.
(apologies if spelled incorrectly)

to begin, a brief summary of the week.... ok not so brief by the end, but close enough...

drove 6 hours to the grampians, camped at my stapylton camp ground (base, nth grampians)


plan: drove to base of mt william to walk up and camp at top, then walk down other side, pick up at Jimmies Creek on thursday afternoon.
what actually happened: walked 30 minutes up mt william, on the tourist's concrete walking path, not the actual one, it was FREEZING, The Knee (as will be referred to for the latter part of this since it is The Knee that was the base cause for my irritation. no, it is not my knee, it is Tent-Partner's - henceforth referred to as TP) began to play up, so we called into base to get a pick up not 400m from our start point, played cards for 1.5 hours and then drove over 2 mountain ranges. got into the next nights camp at 3 and played cards til 4, went on a walk, came back at 5.15, made dinner and went to bed at 7.30.

walked to art sites, ate lunch, played cards for 3 hours, picked up at a 4.45 and went back to base. cooked fried rice from a packet, spent most of the evening up with TP's parental camper trailer, then went to bed.

went to Brambuk Cultural centre in Halls Gap. hella interesting, i thought. TP less so, i assume by the little rushing there was down the stairs once said person realised i wanted to read ALL the info plaques odtted around the 2nd story. Hollow Mountain and another art site in the arvo, love the mountain, not so much the company by this stage, got tired of name-calling, sounded like a 12 year old yelling at a silbling. dont care. it worked. The Knee acted up again. by this point i didnt care, was still pissed off enough not to. read my book for English back at base, cooked a disasterous meal of tuna cakes and tempura sweet potato (the latter of which was perfect, the former... not so much ... since it didnt cook... thankfully all had to do was heat up the semi-prepped things and it was safe to eat :) good meal though... finally lost it and went to coordinator and begged to be put with a group that was hiking for tha last day, got put with year 9 and 10 boys, which was ok since i have friends in the yr 9's courtesy of my sister being in their year level. mucked around with the year 9's and then went to bed.

cooked brekkie :) nothing like a hot meal on a FREEZING morning :P Went into Wonderland, up to the Pinnacle and back to Halls Gap via Venus Baths. boys went swimming, i would have but that required me stripping down to my underwear and i didnt have a change of clothes or a towel. walked into the town, had a shower at the camp site, bought lunch, went back to camp, cooked BBQ for everyone, mucked around with 9's again, went to bed. almost died due to hypothermia.


packed up faster than i ever have before. drove home. took codral. here i am.

now, this is only one post, and i have about 8 things i thought about a lot over the week that i want to write about, and im not sure if i should be writing it all in one huge post or do it topic by topic. i think the second one.... so, in lieu of that, i will finish this off here with a finalreflection of the week, and then write tomorrow before i leave for the markets.

overall, the week was a fat waste of time except for the last couple of days in which stuff was actually done. the 3 things i did most this week were... sleep, sit in a vehicle, or play cards (not necessarily in that order). managed to get a sense of wonder from the paintings we saw, but am wholeheartedly pissed off that someone else's disability hindered myself and my ability to complete what i had to do. wonderland was by far the best because i was with people i could muck around with, without owrrying aobut hurt feelings, because i know theyre only joking and are boys, so it makes life so much easier than having someone talking crap the whole time, and being expected to respond to random, inconsequential comments. however, having said this, it was onlt 5 days of my life, and it was an experience i have learned from. i was taught, and a teacher, a leader and a group member, by the sheer fact that i was temporarily a 1-member group and the only girl amongst 18 boys. good times, my friends, good times.

1 hour

Tuesday, 14 April 2009

Going Away

I guess this could really, be the start of me changing properly - having a physical change to get the ball rolling, so to speak. as it is i am looking forward to this trip, but dreading it too - it's the last one i'll go on as a student at my school.
oh well, cest la vie.
here, i propose a toast:
to change.
to adventure.
to becoming someone we always wanted to be.

i'll fill you in when i get home.
until such time,

Sunday, 12 April 2009

Festive season

marred by hurtful words, of the most unexpected source.
but then again, it should be expected, given past history.
as it is, i'm living with a headache.
and the weather is warm outside and i should be out with someone enjoying it.
but im grounded.
i dont even know what the grounding rules ARE - how long, for what.
i think its just a ploy to stop me from seeing Him - i'm allowed to go into town and have Nick over, but i'm not allowed to see Him, even if i could find someone to take me there other than parents.
i need a car
and a proper license.
then i'm outta here.

Friday, 10 April 2009

Religion and money.... what?

Well, I’m grounded.

.... On a much lighter note, it's school holidays.
oh, wait, that makes grounding even worse... yippee, a whole week worth of studying aboriginal art in the Grampians, followed by a whole week of homework, no people included in that last one. Oh joyous times. -_-

well, there you go... almost finished duke of Ed... well, kinda.... just gotta do more community service. Lots more.

Anyways... to a more ...traditional... Livvy-post...

The last day of school and, once again, something stupid done by a person with superiority issues has caused a hubbub of potentially ridiculous proportions.
I will name no names, though I happen to know the student in question reads this. I also happen to suspect that one or more teachers have flicked over this. Doesn’t matter.
This incident over a refusal to go and take communion or a blessing brings me to a rather abrupt stop, and a thought of 'what? Hang on, that’s not right!'
I am asked, as are others that have some relationship with this student 'if you’re not of that religion, then why go to the school?'
My answer: because it is, or was, a great school. There have been staff changes that are questionable in their benefit to the students and school alike, but let’s face it: the world runs on money.
I give you exhibit A: coaching staff. Ex students are cheaper to hire than trained coaches. So that’s what happens, and we have seen firsthand the detriment it causes, giving a team of untrained kids to a person that clearly shouldn't be coaching. It takes a certain personality, someone with a vague inkling of leadership, to take charge, and coach a team. I don't think the admin person realises this.
there are so many flaws amongst the inner workings of this system and I admit that I do not have the whole story, but if we can come up with enough money to build a gym that is only going to be expanded later on, and the temporary wall was the most expensive thing in the gym, then, surely, we can find the money to properly train kids?
I know that's a little off topic from religion, but allow me to bring this back to the main point....
there is a law. This law is called the Anti-Discrimination Act. It includes race, religion, sexual preference, etc. it’s designed to make Australian society that little bit farer. And for the most part, it works; lets people know what they can and cannot do.
But it would seem that this doesn't come into play here. Even though it should.
I believe that it should not matter whether we follow a religion or not, so long as it is respectful disagreement. Meaning, can understand why people may follow such-and-such a religion, but don't believe that it is right for oneself. He was not bad-mouthing Christianity, and indeed, to get a blessing or such thing would be disrespectful if it was not believed.

So, you make your own judgement. Who was at fault? The student, for not following what should be done by convention, or the teacher, for trying to enforce this by intimidation?
60 minutes

Tuesday, 7 April 2009

Seasons change, for the worse.

It's gone from summer to cold so fast it leaves me stumbling over my
welcome to winter. almost. even though its meant to be 21 today, I'm
still clad in long-everything and a jumper. its ridiculous and I'm
seriously considering moving upstate to get warmer. yes, give me The
Alice, nice an warm........
though the weather does give rise to a fond memory, repeated every so
often in winter in my household: the footy's on the telly, the fire is
burning away happily in the heater, its cold and/or raining outside
and everyone is at home. i love this memory, because it involves
relaxation and fire = warmth :D
ah, the good ol' days.
now just gotta survive the cold outside at school and I'm all set....

of which, does anyone else find it odd that, even when its freezing
cold outside, we as students have nowhere to seek refuge? the library
is only 1/2 the size it used to be, so it doesn't count since it can
only hold about 30 kids before getting desperately full :(
i vote common room, where our toes arent going to drop off.
who's with me??

Saturday, 4 April 2009

We All Have Our Moments....

well, it's been a little while since my last post, and I've kinda been out of inspiration for a little while because my driving force isn't going to be spoken about on here.

6 weeks tomorrow since I was turned upside down in a wonderful way.
Yay ^^
is it sad that I remember the weeks?
I don't really care. I’m too in my own little world of happiness to be truly worried about what other people think. I mean, it’s our own opinion that really counts, isn't it?

On such a note, I will, however, tell you all a little story. It’s not very long in time, nor is it riveting stuff, but it is the catalyst for why I am like I am today in a lot of ways....

I was never a skinny kid. When I was a baby, my parents jokingly called me the Michelin Man - that white mascot for Michelin Tyres that looks like several marshmallows squashed together. And fair enough: I was a fat baby.
Throughout my childhood, I was average weight, nothing special. I have a round face so a short fringe didn't help my plight. And this was okay.
I remember watching a cartoon once on TV on a Saturday. The view panned across the beach, showing buff men and curvy women. Too curvy. I know now that there was no way that a real person could be that way proportioned. I didn't then. I went to my room, pulled up my t-shirt and looked at my own waist. I was straight up and down (and at age 7, pretty well everyone is) I remember trying to push my waist inwards, to see if I had curves. I didn’t. I still don't. I’m one of those poor kids that don't fit the traditional bill of curves. I don't mean like curvy, I mean, as in, not straight up and down. If it's the small penis thing that makes guys feel inadequate, the lack of curves does that to me.
Eh, that’s life.
That wasn’t what I wanted to talk about, though it does give a little background for this...
when I was in year three, I was at a primary school in the hills. We had a HUGE pine forest as a playground and a large asphalted area too, amongst other things. Not bad for a school of 200 kids from R-7. On the far side of the asphalt, there were sandstone steps leading to the forest. I was coming down them, and noticed three boys from the year above me, in my class (mixed classes) I got about three-quarters across, when He wanted to get my attention:
"Hey! Fatty!"
As soon as His mouth closed, I burst into tears. The insensitivities of kids is incredible. He realised He'd hurt me as soon as the first tear fell, quickly saying, "Oh, I was only joking, don't cry". In his defence, he did sound kinda remorseful. I just told him to go away and ran to the toilets.
I never really got over that. I know this because in writing this, my eyes are getting watery.

In countless parenting Do's and Don’ts it says never criticise yourself in front of your child because they are like little sponges: they soak up everything you do and say. My mother, even now, will complain about how fat she is. She’s really not. And if she stopped buying crappy food for us to eat we'd all be better off. But that’s not the point. my point is this: how the hell am I meant to feel good about myself if my mum, the number one female role model in my life, won't shut up with the negative self talk? It makes me, the only one of my siblings shaped like her in some way, think 'what the hell kinda chance to I have then?!?!'

and while I’m strangely emotional at the moment and I don't know why, having Him read my affirmation, my thoughts on paper, tacked on my wall by my light switch, was one of the most embarrassing things I’ve had to deal with this year. I haven't read it since I put it there (goes to show just how well the initiative is in my mind), then look at me so sadly and say 'is this what you are doing?’ to which I replied 'no' and sat down on my bed. I didn't remember what I’d written, let alone followed it. But that look on his face wouldn’t go away. He leant into me as close as he could, and said to me quietly 'I think you’re beautiful', staring me right into my eyes. if I had known that the last part said 'I’m sick and tired of feeling and looking fat', it would have brought on, right in front of him (so mortifying!), the tears that leaked forth after I did read it again, once everyone had left.

I hate the word 'fat'
it's such an ugly term, for such an ugly state of existence.

And all for the simple reason that I don't know what else I can eat that isn't going to cause me to get sick - too much wheat or dairy doesn't sit well with me.
And that’s all we have in this damned house.
It’s probably why I like Asian food so much - I can eat it and not feel the excruciating pain that my current diet causes.
But yes, I have my moments of ‘I hate myself’. And that is why.
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