I’m at a party. But not really. I’m sitting in the hostess’s bedroom crying and writing this. 

I feel suddenly inadequate and awful, surrounded by these beautiful girls and their perfect bodies. Okay. Perfect may not be the right word but close enough. I KNOW that it’s just me being insecure. I just can’t help it. Because my mind doesn’t let me just have fun anymore. Not for more than five minutes. 

It’s stupid. I know that. I am who I am and normally I’m perfectly okay with that. Right now I’m not. I feel grossly overweight when in reality I’m like 25 pounds overweight. I feel my scars and my cellulite like the bombs that sunk my ship. 

I can’t breath. I can’t stop crying. I’m just writing this to give me something to keep me busy. 

I just want to feel beautiful again. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt beautiful. Being okay with yourself isn’t the same as feeling like you’re beautiful. It’s just accepting. 

I hate this spiral. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this awful in such a public place. 

Sometimes I just wish Sean understood. He doesn’t know I’m up here hiding but if he did he wouldn’t understand. He would try and would sympathize. That’s all I can ask but I wish that he could, just for a moment, understand instead of looking at me with pity. I’ll be fine. It just sucks waiting for everything to play out and stop. Being normal for a night would be a gift. 


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