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What it means to be alone?
What does that mean for me? It means half my life I had way prettier friends than I was. It means I was often the third or fifth wheel. It means I disappeared from the face of the earth when they were around me. It means boys rarely looked my way. It means that I wanted to kill myself almost everyday. It means my self-esteem was really low at this point. It means I gave up on me. It still means today that I don't like myself. And frankly, I don't know how to change that.
I was never the type to seek male attention, but I was never shy, until everything changed in a heartbeat. I gained some weight and did nothing about it. I became unattractive according to magazines and fashion. Over the years I started to hate myself more and more. Where I should have seen a beautiful woman, I saw a monster. This is what I was thinking each time I looked in the mirror. I wasn't pretty at all, I was fat, I was this and I was that. I wore only black for most of my life, you know what they say, black is a good color to look thiner.
I went to university and things got heavier, I was feeling depressed and alone. Cut out from family and friends, I had no one to turn to for a really long time. I sank into the dark water of depression. But I'm a strong woman, I got through it without medication or doctors. I started to workout a little and change my food. I felt better for a year or so and all went to hell. I dived again in comfort food, because I hated myself so I needed to eat to fill up the empty part of me. I stopped training and I was never going out because I knew nobody yet. I sang each day in attempt to cheer myself up. Through songs, I've always been able to find peace and answers. At the time, that wasn't the case.
I got better when I met Sylvie. Today I look back and I owe her a lot. Thank you my dear friend, I love you with all my heart. I was going out more often, I was always with her and I met other people along the way. The last year and a half of school was epic. I was learning to see myself differently. I can't say that I loved myself, it would be lying. But I was happier and lighter. Then I returned back to my hometown... I fell right into my old habits one more time. This time it was worst. Almost everybody had a special someone, so I spend my evenings with couples. It stabbed me right into the heart. I was still alone, I was approaching my 30s and there was nobody left for me. Nothing to show for.
Who was I? I was a loser. Simple, but true. I started to crucify myself again and ever since, the wall I built, collapsed to my feet over and over again. I tried to change, but I never really did. Now, I workout and I have issues changing my nutritional habits. But how can I change physically, when my head is reminding me constantly that I'm not good enough.
Depression, self-hatred and low self-esteem are waves bound to crash against each other. Only a good emotional surfer can ride these waves all his life without touching the water a single time.