Dumb-Dumb

It turns out Top Hit only refers to me. I thought that might be the case, but I still feel like an idiot, anyway, for not knowing that right off the bat.

Don’t tell anyone, friends.

I’m going to bed, cus I’ve been up (mostly) since 2:30. And I feel like junk because I got and ate more dang ice cream and spoiled my dinner, like a little kid.

And I feel unhappy about how I look and I wish someone would tell me I’m beautiful. Regardless of my weight.

The kid told me the other day I’d probably look like Sherrie W. when I got older—“maybe not in the face, but…”

Now, I mean no disrespect. I love Sherrie to pieces, I do, but…

I don’t know, maybe I’m completely deluded about myself, but I thought I was slightly better looking than that? Yes, even in the body.

But maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m entirely shapeless, now, I don’t know. Just one, big curve: round.

Am I?

That’s the thing, friends. I can’t tell, anymore.

This is hard for me. I know what it’s like to have a beautiful body, and I miss it so much. It sounds conceited, maybe, but I was beautiful, and I didn’t even know it.

No one ever would’ve compared me to someone short and round, I know that.

This might seem a really small and trivial thing to be so upset about, and on top of the body shaming itself, I feel guilt about caring so much in the face of far worse problems.

But then again, lots of people struggle with their bodies. It’s hardly just me.

I told Derek what K said. I said he didn’t mean it in a mean way at all. He said maybe he was talking about some other aspect of likeness between Sherrie and me. He said I was not just round.

So there’s that.

But now I still feel sad, like I’m going to cry.

I think I just need to go to bed.

Tomorrow is another chance to get it right. All I can really do at this point is to keep trying.

Goodnight, friends. Talk tomorrow. Probably super early.