blustocking (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blustocking) wrote2002-02-24 06:28 pm
blustocking) wrote2002-02-24 06:28 pm
For now...
If you have any respect for me, you probably don't want to read this.
It's icky.
Okay, yeah, so let's face it. I have image issues. Whether these be with how I view beauty, where I find it, or how much importance I place on it, I have them. The fact that I have these issues is messy, sloppy, and ugly. I don't want to talk about it and no one wants to hear it.
But I will, because I have to, and I am....*cue theme music* SADO-MASOCHISTIC!
Not to mention the deep need I have of "figurin' things out".
So here's the deal...
I haven't had time to adjust to how I look, nor do I want to. I have seen what I used to look like and to see what I've become makes me ill. I prize beauty and "attractiveness" highly, no...HIGHLY. Yeah, I'm a Libra and for those of you who don't believe in Astrology mumbo-jumbo, fuck you...it fits me. I take so many pictures of myself to prove to myself, and possibly others, that I am pretty/desirable/whatever. The more grotesque I get, the less frequent these "affirmations" become. In turn, every time I see a horrible picture of me, which is becoming QUITE frequent, it takes a big ol' chip off the self-esteem block...more so than it should, normally. Yes, yes, I will be doing something about it. Just let me whine for a bit. So yes, good pictures=proof of me being worthy in me knotty head.
I recently saw some fucking horrid pictures of me. It's hard to disconnect. It's hard to not think, "Holy shit, is that what people see...everyday...when I'm talking to them?!" It's hard not to want to crawl into a fucking cave and live my life as an arrogant troll.
What is also hard to deal with is the slap in the face that my current image affords me. I feel my body, literally, and though not near what I would like it to be, it doesn't seem that bad. I see it occasionally and it doesn't seem to be that bad. Then I'm confronted with an image contradictory and who am I to believe? Though becoming less and less so, I see myself in my head as I used to be. My inward image doesn't always (if ever) mesh with the outside. So when I see pictures or look in a mirror that is less-than-flattering, it completely shatters what I previously thought. Occasionally, I'll delude myself into thinking I can wear something that I used to wear not only 2 years ago, only to try it on and be quite dismayed. In short, my body used to match what my face sometimes is...attractive.
Lately, my face isn't what I thought it was either. This shakes my foundation. The shaky foundation that I built up on the superficial sand of "It's okay, see, I'm pretty. I have pictures to prove it." I need to find other ways to boost my confidence, my self-esteem. But this is all I've known, this is who I am. Change that? Sure, no problem.
My hands, I can't stand looking at my hands.
I used to think I was a writer. I used to be confident in that. And though I don't give a flying fuck if someone thinks I'm bad at it, even today, I don't have nearly as much confidence in that aspect of my life either...not as much as I used to. The same goes for art...though, I'm slowly realizing I would die faster without writing than without art. To combine the two would be ideal. Though I have much more confidence in my mediocre ability to string words together...that is to say, not much...anymore.
The temptation to yell, "FIX ME!" is great. The temptation to find someone to build me up is even greater. But I know this is no one's job, nor should it be. It's mine. Yay me. But how do you draw something out of nothing? How do you put a puzzle together in the dark?(I slapped myself FOR you.) How can you not want/need someone to be there, to help you? I don't know, but I can't put that on anyone, as much as I'd like to. Besides, no one's gonna come a callin' to the tune of my insecurities.
I'm probably going to dye my hair a different color, as this allows for a brief feeling of "newness", of something different. Change=better, prettier perhaps. I like getting noticed it would seem. I'm an arrogant twat with the self-esteem of a gnat who'd like the attention of an elephant stampeding down Main St. So yes, this is what I will do tonight, as well as continuing to work out. I will try and lose weight, just like I've been doing, and try not to pay so much attention to those horrible images of me, frozen in time. (It's the permanence of a photo that bothers me as well....hence why I destroy every less-than-savory image of myself. My two friends, Jason and Dennis, have quite a collection of horrible pictures of me, which they won't give to me or throw away. They think it's funny. It makes me twitch.) But I realize that it's not necessarily the weight I've gained, but how I view the weight I've gained. Even when I was wearing a size 6, I thought I was fat. (If I wanted to, here, I could blame society as well. In fact, I think I will...a little). I starved myself in high school, literally, did. not. eat. I still thought I was fat even though I look at my teeny little skirts and tops today and wonder HOW THE FUCK DID I FIT INTO THIS?! So, yes, body image, it sucks. I hate all of this. I hate having to talk about it. I hate having to say, "I'm gunna work on it." But I suppose it needs to be done. I shouldn't rely on others to make me feel better about myself.
It's icky.
Okay, yeah, so let's face it. I have image issues. Whether these be with how I view beauty, where I find it, or how much importance I place on it, I have them. The fact that I have these issues is messy, sloppy, and ugly. I don't want to talk about it and no one wants to hear it.
But I will, because I have to, and I am....*cue theme music* SADO-MASOCHISTIC!
Not to mention the deep need I have of "figurin' things out".
So here's the deal...
I haven't had time to adjust to how I look, nor do I want to. I have seen what I used to look like and to see what I've become makes me ill. I prize beauty and "attractiveness" highly, no...HIGHLY. Yeah, I'm a Libra and for those of you who don't believe in Astrology mumbo-jumbo, fuck you...it fits me. I take so many pictures of myself to prove to myself, and possibly others, that I am pretty/desirable/whatever. The more grotesque I get, the less frequent these "affirmations" become. In turn, every time I see a horrible picture of me, which is becoming QUITE frequent, it takes a big ol' chip off the self-esteem block...more so than it should, normally. Yes, yes, I will be doing something about it. Just let me whine for a bit. So yes, good pictures=proof of me being worthy in me knotty head.
I recently saw some fucking horrid pictures of me. It's hard to disconnect. It's hard to not think, "Holy shit, is that what people see...everyday...when I'm talking to them?!" It's hard not to want to crawl into a fucking cave and live my life as an arrogant troll.
What is also hard to deal with is the slap in the face that my current image affords me. I feel my body, literally, and though not near what I would like it to be, it doesn't seem that bad. I see it occasionally and it doesn't seem to be that bad. Then I'm confronted with an image contradictory and who am I to believe? Though becoming less and less so, I see myself in my head as I used to be. My inward image doesn't always (if ever) mesh with the outside. So when I see pictures or look in a mirror that is less-than-flattering, it completely shatters what I previously thought. Occasionally, I'll delude myself into thinking I can wear something that I used to wear not only 2 years ago, only to try it on and be quite dismayed. In short, my body used to match what my face sometimes is...attractive.
Lately, my face isn't what I thought it was either. This shakes my foundation. The shaky foundation that I built up on the superficial sand of "It's okay, see, I'm pretty. I have pictures to prove it." I need to find other ways to boost my confidence, my self-esteem. But this is all I've known, this is who I am. Change that? Sure, no problem.
My hands, I can't stand looking at my hands.
I used to think I was a writer. I used to be confident in that. And though I don't give a flying fuck if someone thinks I'm bad at it, even today, I don't have nearly as much confidence in that aspect of my life either...not as much as I used to. The same goes for art...though, I'm slowly realizing I would die faster without writing than without art. To combine the two would be ideal. Though I have much more confidence in my mediocre ability to string words together...that is to say, not much...anymore.
The temptation to yell, "FIX ME!" is great. The temptation to find someone to build me up is even greater. But I know this is no one's job, nor should it be. It's mine. Yay me. But how do you draw something out of nothing? How do you put a puzzle together in the dark?(I slapped myself FOR you.) How can you not want/need someone to be there, to help you? I don't know, but I can't put that on anyone, as much as I'd like to. Besides, no one's gonna come a callin' to the tune of my insecurities.
I'm probably going to dye my hair a different color, as this allows for a brief feeling of "newness", of something different. Change=better, prettier perhaps. I like getting noticed it would seem. I'm an arrogant twat with the self-esteem of a gnat who'd like the attention of an elephant stampeding down Main St. So yes, this is what I will do tonight, as well as continuing to work out. I will try and lose weight, just like I've been doing, and try not to pay so much attention to those horrible images of me, frozen in time. (It's the permanence of a photo that bothers me as well....hence why I destroy every less-than-savory image of myself. My two friends, Jason and Dennis, have quite a collection of horrible pictures of me, which they won't give to me or throw away. They think it's funny. It makes me twitch.) But I realize that it's not necessarily the weight I've gained, but how I view the weight I've gained. Even when I was wearing a size 6, I thought I was fat. (If I wanted to, here, I could blame society as well. In fact, I think I will...a little). I starved myself in high school, literally, did. not. eat. I still thought I was fat even though I look at my teeny little skirts and tops today and wonder HOW THE FUCK DID I FIT INTO THIS?! So, yes, body image, it sucks. I hate all of this. I hate having to talk about it. I hate having to say, "I'm gunna work on it." But I suppose it needs to be done. I shouldn't rely on others to make me feel better about myself.
no subject
I don't think I can express that as thouroughly as I want to...without getting weird and freaking you out.
Also, everyone feels the way you do. I'm not trying to belittle your feelings, just trying to let you know that there's nothing wrong with it. I've walked by the mirror so many times and thought "damn...I'm one sexy kitty" or "good lord...what is that THING?!"
I've also done the whole "well, it's ok that I'm not a perfect size 2...I have a pretty face" and then lost complete confidence in that as well.
I also used to look a whole hell of a lot cuter than I do now. I used to dance for 6 hours a day. Everyday. It's painful sometimes to go through my closet and look at all of my favorite clothes from when I was in highschool. I kick myself for not enjoying how I looked back then. I thought I was fat at the time as well.
That entire post was basically what goes through my head all the time...almost word for word.
I have no idea how to make it better, as I haven't been able to yet...although I have felt better lately. It comes and goes, as I'm sure you know.
All in all. I'd certainly sleep with you, even if I'd only just met you ;) (if there wasn't a billy, obviously) so it's not on account of your personality. Nope...completely shallow intentions come into play.
hmm...
(Anonymous) 2002-02-24 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)and it is. mister supply, mrs. demand...and price the love between the two.
I was going for starving artist.
oh how easily the entire body thing could to into econ language.
cold and hard.
like bones.
like control.
hardest thing to move is the supply curve.
it just cuts off.
there's only so much STUFF.
and it's really all about stuff.
and time.
and money.
but money is nothing.
money is like a road.
and beauty is power.
and it's all greed.
me me me.
price is love.
bones are control.
I need to do my homework.
dara
**butts in**
There are four types of women in my twisted little mind... There are the physically beautiful/no brain, physically inept/no brain, physically inept/intelligent, and may God help us, the ones that own us all, the physically beautiful/very intelligent... Blu, you have forever stuck into that category for me... Kick yourself in the ass for me and tell yourself, "I am a fucking gorgeous person, fuck what other people think!" You do what you need to make YOU feel the way YOU want to feel... All I can give is compliments, positive reinforcement, but you have to want it different... Notice I didn't say you are perfect the way you are... That comment I didn't give would be self-defeating too... Striving to be better is human, a good human trait... Do it...
Re: **butts in**
no subject
And it's true. Yup. So nyah.
Our self image isn't what other people see, I am sure of that, and in many cases it seems that peoples self image is drastically out of touch with what other people see. If people tell you that you are beautiful, then that is what they see. If people laugh at you when they see your pictures then maybe you are ugly. Our representations of ourselves should be built up over what other people see and not what we see. Our own self-images are tainted by what we are inside - and lets face it - most humans are pretty fucking ugly inside :)
I luv U Blu. :)
no subject
no subject
It's icky."
No, I have more respect for you after reading this. You're honest where many others lie.
Appearance is of great importance to me, as well. Not necessarily other people's, but my own. I always wanted to be pretty and was always told I was an ugly child - which I was. My family ruthlessly scorned me and told me I was flat-out ugly, how did my parents ever produce me. Then I turned fourteen and something happened. And I have always been bitter against my family for two things: 1.) for insulting me so much when I was younger that even when I allegedly became physically attractive I could not see it even a little bit for the longest time, and 2.) for being so much nicer to me once I was pretty in their eyes.
I have always hated the control physical appearance has on me, but don't like to admit it much. I want to put it behind me and overcome it. But it doesn't necessarily make it go away. You're brave enough to admit it, discuss it, analyze it. You task me with your honesty and, yes, your beauty - physical and internal.
The first time we met I was taken aback by your beauty. I never told you that, and I am not telling you that now to make you feel better or some such shit. I was.
I can't make you feel better, or turn you into the physical being you might like to be. All I can do is stand from afar, as many have done in the presence of beauty, and admire.
And I shall.
XO,
Kat
meeeeeeyow
*blows kisses at kat*
hey baby ;)
everyone else said what i wanted to say. and so much better, too...
BLAME SOCIETY!!!
On another note, you can't judge yourself based on photographs. Something they tell us in photography class is that what separates a great photographer from some regular person with a camera is the ability to capture a greater degree of the essence of a subject with a single image. I've also learned that with a roll of 36 pictures, you're lucky to get one or two decent shots of anybody. The reason why there are so many less-than-gorgeous photographs of you or anybody is because of how rare it is that a single moment can successfully illustrate a fair amount of your being. It's also like how in film, people can seem fluid and beautiful, but when you look at the movie frame by frame, the people seem lifeless and silly as you catch them squinting awkwardly or squishing their neck fat. But you don't see a movie frame by frame--you see the flow of the images and the energy of the characters (not to mention hours in makeup and flattering lighting). IN CONCLUSION!! You can't do four dimensional people justice with only two dimensions. Even pretty pictures don't tell us your life story, and that's what makes you beautiful.
Loco hails from the great splashy SOUTH!
Not that I'm gonna change your mind about anything. I know how it is when you're already insecure about your looks and your attractiveness and then your weight suddenly explodes and you feel like the most horrible shit on the planet. Like you need one more fucking thing to deal with, right?
Blu-head...
Damn, when I met everyone from #slavelabor at the first Con I felt like a big lameass. I felt like I was too ugly and dumb and dorky to hang out with so many cool people. And then we went to con and there you come, with your beautiful blonde and red fire hair and porcelain skin and perfect doll face. I never in a million years would have thought that you could have a negative thought about yourself, how beautiful you are. It came as a big shock to me, as I've read your journal stuff over the past half year, how wrong I was.
I mean, I thought you thought I was a huge gigantic poseur dorkus at con. Fer chrissakes, I asked to touch your HAIR. I was sure that I annoyed the fuck out of everyone and I was surprised and flattered as hell that anyone, let alone you, wanted to hang out with me at all.
Of course, it doesn't really matter how physically attractive we are. Attitude really IS everything. But it's hard to love yourself when you look at yourself and can't stop freaking out about weight gained, shape lost, or any other number of myriad other things that just happens to us as we age.
I dunno, sistuh. I loves you and I just want you to feel better about yourself. And I'm so sorry I was such a drunken retard asshole at APE. I didn't mean to put you or obs or nic through all that crap.