Why me?

So I constantly think. I constantly think about my life, about how I have lived it, the things I've done right, the things I've done wrong. And I know, I've done a lifetime of wrong, but I've done right too.
As a kid I always thought, why me? Why am I the one that gets picked on? Why am I the one that gets made fun of? I don't know why I'm bigger than everyone else? I don't know why my teeth are crooked, or why my stomach is bigger, or I'm smarter than you all. I didn't know why... And I didn't know why my teachers wouldn't help me understand. I remember sitting under my bag with my teddy bear (that I had been taking to school for comfort from all of the kids that were making fun of me) and I was crying.. The girls I had been playing barbies with all week told me I wasn't allowed to play with them today. That I didn't look the same way and that I didn't want to play the game exactly their way (which involved me not being involved anyway) so I got upset and went into my own little world and cried. The teachers were told not to ask me what was wrong because I was being dramatic, that I was being a sook and not being a big girl...

I don't think being a "big girl" had anything to do with it. I had been bullied the year before, and when no one would help me deal, I had to find my own ways of dealing. So kids and teachers were very unhelpful throughout primary school. I think this is what contributed to my depression later in life. I was rejected completely by my peers. Entering Year 7, although at the same school, I felt like things had to be different. But they weren't. Within a few hours of the school camp, I was made to feel like shit and didn't want to sleep in the same cabin as the girls I was assigned to because they made fun of me and the clothes I was wearing...

In the essence of getting it out and accepting me I needed to process what was going on. But once again I felt like the teachers didn't support me, so I ended up on my own crying. Which is a big thing with me. I can't articulate what I need to because people don't listen or don't want to listen to me. It is also hard when you have a mother that doesn't want to listen to you. She never wanted to discuss sex or even periods with me. It was embarrassing for her, so she gave me the bare minimum and hoped that I got through it.

My English teachers were aspiring to me. I loved both of them in Year 7. They were the two teachers that supported me and made me believe there was something better to aspire to. Unfortunately that next year, I lost one teacher. She moved on to another school and it was devastating. At this stage I was so rejected by all of my peers, that I literally sat alone... The other girls tried to include me, and I suppose it was sort of keeping your enemies closer move. It was so hard to always be the kid that was rejected, and again I had to ask why me. Why did these girls talk to me like I was their friend and then stab me in the back time and time again. More to the point, why did I let them?

Bullying is a vicious cycle... And sad but true, usually it is the person that is bullied that hangs around the same people because there is no choice. I grew up in a small country town, and there were 36 in my year 7 class. The majority were boys.

Around year 8-year 9, I started cutting myself. Its all a bit fuzzy as it isn't the best part of my life that I want to remember. Now I wasn't cutting myself because I wanted to kill myself, although I will admit I did think about it a lot during my teen years. I cut myself because when you have depression, you have a hole inside you. It eats you up, it consumes your life and all you can think about are the mistakes in life you have made, and how that has affected you. You dwell on the past, and can't see any sort of future. To be honest, sitting here at 23 years old, I honestly didn't know whether I would make it this far. I cut to make the emotional pain real. A cut heals, it bleeds, it scabs over, and then all that is left is a scar, and eventually they fade too. Essentially, that is what I wanted to happen to my pain. I wanted it to be real, I wanted to be able to see it rather than feel it, and then I wanted it to go away...

To people who haven't been there, it sounds insane, just like talking to yourself. And I like to think that I have a major inner monologue that narrates my life. Another girl in our class cut herself for attention, she happily showed off her cuts and talked about how much pain she was in, but that god would help her through it. Gods knows I wanted to slap her and tell her that pretty people like her don't need to cut to get attention. I always hid mine. I always did it somewhere easily hidden. In winter it was easy, cut yourself on your upper arm, done no one can see through a jumper. Summer was a bit difficult, but shorts helped hide the cuts, and there was always your stomach. I never wanted anyone to see how much pain I was in. So I suffered in silence. It didn't matter what I did as a kid, my friends always seemed to leave me. I could want them to be my friends all I wanted but they didn't want to be my friend...!

What a shocking development when my weight wouldn't move. I suppose instead of cutting myself, an eating disorder would have been better. And I did have one, I would eat. I would eat more than I could burn off, and I put on weight. Shock horror right?! I always wanted to know why I couldn't lose the weight, or why I couldn't at least eat something and not have to worry about how it was going to affect me. I took up rowing for a while, but after being looked at by the coach in an undesirable way, and having him yell at your boyfriend, I gave that up..

Oh yes I had boyfriends. I am smart, I do have my plus's. And some people did see that. Although looking back on it now, my first boyfriend that I did lose my V plates to, really wasn't my type. He annoyed me and didn't particularly show affection like you should show your girlfriend.. I found out he was gay! I managed to hook up with another guy (I'm 16 at this stage btw) and found he just used me. But it gave me the attention I wanted, and craved. Someone loved me...

It was the summer of 2006 (oh yes it sounds romantic!!) I met Tom. Tom was a lovely red headed boy, my age, and I liked him because he actually talked to me. He and I shared interested and I was happy to have a lovely friend. Well that soon blossomed into something else. I loved him. I genuinely loved him. He was what I thought a boyfriend should be. I saw him every weekend, one weekend at rowing training, and one weekend we would spend at his mothers house. It was amazing. However he was using me too. And he cheated on me. It gutted me, and all the weight I had lost doing rowing, I put back on through eating... Gutted, I had to see my Dr because talking to my mother was out of the question, and I sort help. For the first time in my life I actually talked through my problems (sort of).

It didn't make me a better person, and it certainly didn't change me over night, but it did change me. I've done stupid things, from here I let boys use me, I had other boyfriends. One boyfriends father called me a slut, and said I wasn't good enough for him; another had no money, no job, was essentially a bum, and  I still have no idea to this day why I was with him... I met Martin when I was in Year 12. And after a quick fling, found out he went back to his ex gf. I was happy to have him as a friend though. And was devastating when I finished school and he had a year left.

Still I was big, and still I asked why me. This sounds so long winded and none of you will probably read this but at least it is out in the open, once and for all. First year of university I met Andrew. Andrew was a pivotal moment in my life. I had been with lots of different men within a short amount of time. I was definitely the class slut. And I couldn't figure out why I had done it until Andrew. Andrew and I had an odd relationship, I thought I wanted to be with him, until a friend hinted he might want to get married. It freaked me out. I loved him, but I didn't love him enough to have a ring on my finger and commit to him forever forever.

After breaking up from Andrew, and hooking up with a guy from work, he chose my ex house mate over me. I didn't let it get to me. It hurt, and it sucked having to work with him. BUT it made me think about my life. I was lucky that my depression hadn't lead me to have a baby. A baby to a random person. I stayed single for 18 months. I got over my shit that had been holding me down emotionally. And I started talking to Martin again. It all seemed so right to be with someone that truly wanted to be with me..

From 2009 to 2012 I transformed myself from someone that let people hold me down. I held a shit job at Hungry Jacks while I put myself through university. It was horrible, I won't sugar coat it. And it lead to me putting on more weight which just made me disappointed in myself more so than anything. I lost a friend before he was 21 because he and his friends got into a car and made a bad choice. It gave me the strength to quit a pack a day smoking habit. Life is too short to dwell on the small things.

Today this is where I am. I'm ok with myself. And I think that's where I needed to be to be able to make a difference. Although Martin and I have our differences, we both love each other and we are both content with each other. I still have my bad days, and think why me, but it is a different why me.
I no longer wonder why I am a large girl, I no longer wonder why I don't have many friends.

I have the people around me because they care about me and want to be around me.
I no longer have friends on facebook who do not talk to me... I don't think having people that are your "friends" as a status symbol is a good thing.

I am large because I haven't been active or looked after myself. I let myself eat crap at hungry jacks, I let myself become lazy.

I am happy with myself now. I now think why me if something doesn't happen that I think should have, and I think that is normal!!!

But I will no longer let people get me down, I will no longer let my weight hold me down. On the 11th of February 2013, my life is going to change... For the better. And if that means letting go of a few more people in my life, so be it... I have lost a friend because of silly choices in a car. I cannot bring Dave back. But I can make sure that I make the most of the life that I still have while I have it, for however long that is.