InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Falling to Pieces ❯ Insanity ( Chapter 4 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

A/N: Just a tidbit of information. People probably wonder why this story is updated more than any other story I’ve written so far. Only because of the fact that this is semi-autobiographical, with like a dab of fiction. The names have been changed to match Inuyasha characters and some of the events have been exaggerated to make it a story.
Such insanity, my darling; what I noticed was a sudden downward spiral. Just as you are getting your life together, mine is falling apart. I am losing my sanity slowly but surely. It’s awful to see myself go into this mental state of indecisiveness. I am not sure what caused me to go this way; maybe it’s the overwhelming stress of a college degree, maybe our on/off relationship, maybe my own mental health has been damaged by past traumas. Middle school was also a lonely road for me; as a 7th grader, I took Yearbook which unfortunately forced me to have 8th grade lunch. And by 8th grade year I had already a group of angry haters who sought to torment and torture me.
Now I am 17 years old, trying to piece my life together, while finding happiness. I am overweight, deathly unhappy with my body, dealing with my first serious boyfriend, and balancing everything. I am pushing away the one guy who really loves me with my poor attitude and my insecurities. I am sick of suffering, tired of running around in my own misery lost. I want a lasting healthy relationship. Constantly fighting with my mom about Sess, the overwhelmingness of school, the piss poor friendships I have and my own disfunctionalness makes me just go crazy. So I am going to make an appointment for counseling. I don’t care what I have to do, where I have to go, how much I have to hide it; I need to talk. Talk to someone who is objective, understanding, and paid to be there for me. None of my besties, none of my family, and not even my mother can understand me.
This stems from my past. I was at once a habitual liar. I only recently grew out of that habit. I lied to my teachers, classmates, family members, and friends to sound exciting, to gain people’s attention, for whatever reason I needed at the time. It wasn’t until those lies came back to bite me that I kicked it cold turkey. Anything I’ve done prior to now is literally unknown. I hid my childhood and my torment from everyone; mainly to protect myself. How could I tell someone that I allowed students to throw things at me, call me names, tease me in front of the class, and desert me during lunch and recess? I once sat at a table completely by myself during lunch in the 5th grade because everyone hated me and I was sick of being teased. My life consisted of being the brunt of all the jokes; all the “yo momma”, all the ugly girl, fat girl, stupid girl, jokes. I was the one that sat alone, wrote/read during recess, and didn’t know a thing about having friends or being popular. Even to this day I don’t. I’ve always been made to feel like that girl, the pretty fat girl. I haven’t shaken that stigma that’s on me, even if no one says it. I constantly feel it being there.
Plus I have a deeply rooted insecurity about my body. Stemming from stretch marks, jokes from my childhood, and the weight gain that’s occurred since then. Although God has blessed me with a well endowed chest, I also have love handles, stretch marks, and belly fat to match. But if you were to ask any of my friends, they’d swear I wear my clothes well and that I love my body. I don’t let anyone know my flaw, I won’t confess that I feel uncomfortable in many situations, because how could I? I’ve been raised with “high self-esteem”, and told constantly to flaunt what I got. I got a boyfriend that raves over my body and tells me I’m drop dead gorgeous. My parents tell me that I’m beautiful and my friends are constantly complimenting my awesome clothes, teeth, and hair. No one is willing to commit on that one little problem, except maybe my grandmother who is picking at me constantly.
Maybe my problems just lie with me, I have no one to blame for this but myself. I’ve allowed myself to become this size. Lack of exercise and bad eating habits helped me get this way. And I’ve also allowed myself to feel this bad for this long; I should have reached for help sooner. But then again, how could I? My friends are either too selfish with their problems to listen to mine or too swamped with their own lives to care. My parents are looking for work, trying to finance two households, and trying to raise my little brother. And my boyfriend is about to be an adult in the world, living on his own, trying to work, go to school, and manage his own apartment. I’ll be lucky if I can see these people in regular rotation anymore.
I’ve been spoiled lately. Besides my 2 best friends that live out of the city, everyone is relatively at my fingertips. My boyfriend lives 5 minutes from my house, so does 1 of my best friends. My mom is unemployed and home pretty much all day, and everyone has a cell phone that I talk to. So maybe this counseling thing will work, maybe it won’t. Either way I’m going to give it a try.
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