Friday, August 26, 2005
Confession
Confession: I hate my body. It doesn't really matter to me how I look. I consider myself fat and ugly. But even if I did indeed look like one of those Italian models they use for the half-breed Indian on the cover of romance novels ripping the bodice off of the large breasted captive blonde white woman, there is a good chance I would still hate my body. I have a history that goes with this that I don't wish to discuss here. This is not a bad or good thing to me, it is just the way things are for me and have been reciprocated to me in various ways by various people in my life.
For the most part, I don't want to be in my body. It is tough to live in this world, especially as an Indian. I have been suicidal at times. The last time though this option has been flatly denied and I was told by spirits that I would live to at least 83, which I wasn't too thrilled about. Still, I hate my body, and occasionally it comes forth and I wind up crying usually by myself somewhere. Most, if not all, of you who read this will never see me do this, at least not about my body. It is something I keep as a deep secret most of the time even from myself. Denial can be a useful tool to keep myself from aching every minute of every day. I have other things to think about that are much more important than my own self-pity about how ugly I feel. Last night, as Felicia and I were falling asleep, though, it came up and I cried for about half an hour then started thinking of revolution because it just seems so rediculous for me to feel this ache when so many people all over the world and all around are suffering much more than some stupid self-pity as my body hatred. I spent the next hour or so trying to figure out how to change the world like I pretty much do every day.
I was not even thinking of writing about this as it seems so petty to me. But I kind of hope that it can somehow help others. I don't want your pity. There isn't a whole lot anyone can do to change this way that I feel. I'm fine with it. It isn't going to kill me or leave me so emotionally debilitated that I can't function. So I aint worried about it. It is just a part of me like my arm, leg, writing... I don't think it will ever leave even if I worked out, ate well, and finally did look like one of those Italian guys I always joke about. I don't think about this part of me for the most part. I have an empire to bring down. I have everything to get back.
For the most part, I don't want to be in my body. It is tough to live in this world, especially as an Indian. I have been suicidal at times. The last time though this option has been flatly denied and I was told by spirits that I would live to at least 83, which I wasn't too thrilled about. Still, I hate my body, and occasionally it comes forth and I wind up crying usually by myself somewhere. Most, if not all, of you who read this will never see me do this, at least not about my body. It is something I keep as a deep secret most of the time even from myself. Denial can be a useful tool to keep myself from aching every minute of every day. I have other things to think about that are much more important than my own self-pity about how ugly I feel. Last night, as Felicia and I were falling asleep, though, it came up and I cried for about half an hour then started thinking of revolution because it just seems so rediculous for me to feel this ache when so many people all over the world and all around are suffering much more than some stupid self-pity as my body hatred. I spent the next hour or so trying to figure out how to change the world like I pretty much do every day.
I was not even thinking of writing about this as it seems so petty to me. But I kind of hope that it can somehow help others. I don't want your pity. There isn't a whole lot anyone can do to change this way that I feel. I'm fine with it. It isn't going to kill me or leave me so emotionally debilitated that I can't function. So I aint worried about it. It is just a part of me like my arm, leg, writing... I don't think it will ever leave even if I worked out, ate well, and finally did look like one of those Italian guys I always joke about. I don't think about this part of me for the most part. I have an empire to bring down. I have everything to get back.
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