I’ve Let Myself Go

What if it was all my fault?

I’m back. I’m not sure how long for but we move. 

It’s been a while. Mainly because I needed to distance myself. I love writing. But it was becoming so sad and miserable. Taking a step back was necessary.

I’m still sad and miserable I’m sorry to say. 

BUT

I have been on some dates! So at least I’ve got some stuff to write about that isn’t me wanting to vacate the World. 

My nephews are still the absolute loves of my life and while they’re growing, they’re still my reason to stick around. I desperately want to see them grow up and I can’t wait for them to start enjoying their time with me. 

I am still experiencing the joy of people around me saying “I’m so glad you’re doing well”. They’re not asking a question; they’ve just decided I’m doing well and come to that conclusion on their own. Like I said in my previous post, the negative doesn’t fit the narrative that people much prefer. Nobody wants to know when you’re still struggling and still questioning everything. 

In reality I’m actually just getting fatter, more bitter and more unhappy everyday.

Still, I question everything. 

I don’t trust anything that anyone says anymore. I don’t believe anyone’s intentions are good anymore. I’ve been left blaming myself a lot of the time. 

I’m not pretty enough. 

I’m not thin enough. (This really annoys me because I’ve never believed this should even be a thing. But I still think it sometimes; especially now I’ve put on weight). 

Maybe I wasn’t needy enough.

Or was I too needy?

I can be strong willed sometimes and stubborn. I’ve heard lots of cis heterosexual men don’t like that in a woman so maybe it’s my fault. 

I’m always unashamedly me and I speak my mind. But maybe I should be ashamed of me. 

I’ve let myself go. 

Both physically and mentally. 

What if it was all my fault?