Thursday, June 25, 2009

This Body... This Wallet...

(Part 4 of 5 in the Jaded Depression series... almost done, which is NOT to be confused with almost better. Read on...)

Whenever I get these BLUES, which has been occurring more often than not these days, I refer to it as a downward spiral. I call it that because it will start out as a simple thing that made me sad and then keep going until I'm overcome with everything in the world that makes me sad.

Somewhere along the way I inevitably stand before the mirror and LOATHE what I see in my reflection: the extra weight, flab, stretchmarks (and NO Mr. Barbrucz, stretchmarks are NOT the badge of a true woman, dick-face!) and imperfections. Things I wish I were motivated to make better. Things I wish were better from birth. Things that I have zero control over that I want control over that I can't have control over.

Did you follow all that? No? Well, too bad. You're sitting in on the gifted classroom. Try and keep up.

I don't like my body. Even when I was a thin-beyond-belief teenager I didn't like my body. And this isn't a cry for compliments- I don't want to see that shit in the comments so DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT- this is the god's honest truth. I took great pains to cover myself up at all times and to a certain extent I still do, all in the name of not being noticed because if I'm noticed then GAH, OH MY GOD, I might have to say something and interact with you and UGH I'm soooo not interesting or worth talking to... just go over there and talk with the loud chick in the fuchsia dress. She has a lot to say.

And I am sorta maybe kinda half-assing it towards a more healthy and fit lifestyle, but even if I found myself completing a triathlon w/zero percent body fat I would not like what looks back at me in that fakakta mirror because it's not about my size... I've BEEN every size (seriously! I've been an 8 and I've been an 18; I know what I'm talking about) and at every one I was miserable!

Most days I can keep it at bay and say to myself, "You look nice today. Go out and have fun." But if I'm in the middle of the spiral NOTHING can make me believe I'm anything less than the most hideous creature to ever walk the earth. Nothing.

It's always a battle back to sunny days when that damn mirror never changes.

THEN, as if body-image issues aren't enough to make me want to take up Howard Hughes tendencies and remain in my apartment until the end of days, my downward spiral decides to attack the atrocious state of my financial affairs. And I won't go into details because really- I have to draw the line with what I share somewhere (but mostly because I'm ashamed of how bad it is)- but trust me when I say it's BAD.

And not bad because I'm already in a mood and everything is magnified by ten bad, but bad as in, well, lets just say I'm holding steady at DEFCON 2. So really, really, really bad. Not homeless & destitute bad but damn near close.

The icing on this soul-draining cake? My boss recently informed me that the company is not bringing in money and he needs to cut my hours by half. Which means my money is cut by nearly half, too. So half of $2.50... you do the math... I also lose my benefits, which I never really cared about until I realized I wouldn't have them.

These things, they exasperate my depression. They make it harder for me to see the light. Besides, in this economy a toll has been added to even reach the gateway towards the light and I ain't got it and can't put anything on it.

*smooches...trying to keep my head above water, thankful that I know how to swim*
I knew eventually this economic downturn would slap me in the face but I wasn't ready... I didn't have time to brace myself for this death blow...