get over it already

how did I get here? how in the world did I fall into this endless hole again? (you'd think I'd barricade it off after the last time I fell in it.) I don't want to be here - in this hole that is all too familiar. but it seems this hole is deeper. and it's getting harder for me to find my way out.

I'm broken. no, I feel shattered into a million pieces. I want to curl up in a corner and cry. I have crawled into a corner and cried. there's no reason for me to be so broken, so fragile. life is good. I have a good job. sure I dislike my boss and am frustrated with the way things are run, but frustrations will be at every job I have. that's just part of the job. I have a beautiful home, my home, that I get to reside with my puppies and boyfriend. I have a wonderful family who love me very much. I have a good relationship with all of my family. I have a good education. I have good friends. I have a great life.

so why am I so broken? why do I feel like there's no hope? I've been through these doubts. I've been through these pains. I thought I recovered from these doubts and pains. I don't want to be like this. I don't want to feel so broken. I want to live my life. I want to learn. I want to explore. but I can't. I can't get the motivation anymore. I can't get the heart to do anything.

I feel so alone. no one to talk to. no one to share my true emotions with. there's chris, ha. there's no point. he never listens. he doesn't care. there's my mom, but she has her own worries. her own pain. and there's tracy, who also has her own pain - dealing with a sick family member. how could I force my insignificant problems on her? who else? who else will listen? who else will understand? everyone's happy. everyone has their families. everyone has their married life with their wonderful husbands who supports them and stands by them 100%. who do I have? I haven't even talked to my fiance for the past two days.

I've spent so many years whining to people about my problems. no one wants to listen anymore. no one can help me. what can I do? I'm in this on my own. I have to find my way out. because no one can help me. no one wants to listen to me whine. I'm such a drama queen. such a baby. get over this alicia. wake up. there's no reason so cry to the point where you can't breathe. there's no reason to be depressed. get over it. grow up.

the weight issue

a lot of circumstances have been reminding me of the infamous issue of body weight: summer and bikini season, my friend amanda's blog post, and work. I've tried to avoid talking about it just because it doesn't bother me. but lately it seems like everything's been making me more aware of my weight.

first of all, I've always been skinny (except my toddler years where I was a bit chubby - an adorable chubby). although I by no means suffered the kind of torment overweight individuals endure, being skinny is a different kind of insecurity. I've gone through my whole life with people grabbing my wrists to show how their fingers touch around my wrist since they're so skinny. I've had people dislike me or be mad at me because I'm thin. I'm constantly listening to people complain and wish they were skinny like me. I constantly have been told that I need to eat more even though, trust me, I eat. I can keep up with my brother on taco night (I still hold the record for 22 tacos when I was a kid - now we tie at 10 or 12). I eat a lot of junk and unhealthy food.

people think it's ok and acceptable to give you crap about being skinny because "being skinny is so much better than being fat." that's a load of crap. people can be insecure about how skinny they are just like they can be insecure about how overweight they are. I've been slightly insecure most of my life, not because I think I gain weight or think I'm "too fat" (although lately I have noticed a little bulge of a tummy) but because I feel like I'm too skinny. I hate people complaining to me about their weight and comparing me to them. I hate people telling me to eat or "put on some pounds." I hate when people grab my wrists. I hate how my bones stick out of every joint I have. I hate how I can't fill any type of clothing out because I have no hips or no boobs. there's a lot of things I don't like about being skinny. I'm skinny, but I'm by no means healthy. I wish I was healthier. that way I can be proud of my skinny-ness. but I'm not. I'm just skinny.

throughout high school, I learned to be content with my body and only feel insecure when the topic of weight came up. even though I don't fill clothes out very well, I never really had a problem going shopping. I don't stand in the mirror and become all depressed and vow not to eat fast food. I just find clothes that work with what I've got. I wasn't afraid to walk out in a bikini even though I'm not toned and fit or anything. I didn't have those kind of insecurities because I didn't think it was worth stressing over. if I wasn't happy with my body, I could do something about it (for the most part). sure I wish I was healthier, but I have plans to do something about that. it's a slow process. but I'm not going to curse the large bowl of taco salad I just ate. I tried to embrace my body. because there's way bigger things to stress about.

how I feel

at least that's how I used to be until recently. putting on my bikini scares the shit of me, because I have noticed this previously mentioned bulge. I feel like I look like I'm 3-4 months pregnant. kinda like how britney spears was post-breakdown. I don't feel pretty or sexy. I just feel blah. I feel like chris doesn't even want anything to do with me. and who can blame him? but at the same time, I'm not 100 pounds overweight. I'm barely 100 pounds! so I shouldn't have anything to complain about. it's just hard to work out and be active when you wake up at 4 every morning, drive an hour to work, work 8-9 hours, then drive another hour back home. I only have 2-4 hours at home. and that needs to include making and eating dinner, feeding the dogs, and showering. time goes fast.

but even though I feel like I'm gaining weight, I'm really not. I've been 102-105 for the past 5 years. I don't gain anything and I don't really lose anything either. and it sucks because I can't give blood. I've tried 2-3 times now and always get turned away because I don't weight over 110 lbs. I tried to put on more muscle to get myself up to 110 at the end of last year before a blood drive they had at sierrita, but then finals came up and threw everything I worked hard on out the window. here at miami, they're doing a blood drive today, and yesterday andrew (the sx maintenance supervisor, who plays the mean old man who gives everyone crap but he's actually a big softie) asked me if I was going to give blood today. I told him I couldn't because I didn't weigh enough. of course that sparked everyone to give me crap about how I need to eat more and yada yada yada which just brought up my old insecurities of wishing I was just a little bit fuller. I just got to keep reminding myself that I'm happy with my body and that if I'm not, to do something about it. I just wish I could be more like eva longoria.

how I want to feel

I'm slightly in love with her. she's short and petite yet has curves to flaunt. she seems real without trying too hard. if only god blessed me like he blessed her and so many other women.