Feeling Like Shit

Urgh! Do you ever have one of those days when for no immediately discernible reason, you just feel icky, morose, exhausted and irritable to the point of wanting to murder someone? Well I was having one of those days today, until I realised I hadn't actually been to bed to sleep since Friday night, my recent stomach bug still hadn't passed and I was on the cusp of that wonderfully wretched and hormonal, time of the month. 

Nice.

Not.

It's been blowing a hooley here in the North West of the UK, with blustery winds frequently interspersed with wild horizontal rain. It's normally the kind of autumnal weather I welcome warmly (how oxymoronic of me!) when I can get to curl up on the sofa with the other half, under a blanket, whilst getting lost in a good book as the cats settle down on the carpet for a nap. Autumn and winter are full of dark, stormy days and nights that are just made for cosy afternoons and evenings spent in on the sofa, feeling safe and sheltered from the outside world. And today would have been the perfect day to spend doing just that, only I had a handful of errands to run which scuppered any such plans of my luxuriating beneath a duvet, sipping hot tea and delighting in the smorgasbord of spooky book titles waiting to be devoured on my Kindle. 

I had to go and pick up my boyfriend's prescription from the clinic and go collect it from the chemist, which was mostly just annoying because the pharmacist who issued the refill looked barely over 25 - and not in the hot, cute, not long out of medical school, preppy kind of way.....no, he was about five foot five, stick thin, covered from forehead to neck with suppurating acne and to top it all off, had a scruffy ginger ponytail of dirty ginger hair and a voice that hadn't broken yet. Blehhh. Now I know I hadn't made an ounce of effort with my own appearance today and had ventured outside completely devoid of make-up, with my hair scraped up into a bun. But I was mortally offended when this guy started smiling at me, revealing horrid yellowing teeth, as he recognised the Iron Maiden album I had blasting out of my earbuds at near-deafening volume and seemed to think we had some shared interest or something. I couldn't get out of there quick enough. 

I'm sorry if that makes me sound like a horribly shallow person, but hey, I judge myself by the same high, exacting standards I judge everyone else by, so it's not like I'm slating random people whilst making myself out to be perfect. I know that I'm below par on the looks scale right now because I'm just so goddamn fat, but I'm on the way to doing something about it, so that I can be pretty, put-together and practically perfect in every way! Lol! I am  aware of my own shortcomings and I resolve to fix them. I don't just accept my fate as a less that acceptable mess and expect the world to like me for it. I expect everyone to continue to judge me the same way I judge them, until I get to perfect. I also expect everyone else to be fully disgusted with the way I look - not glimpsing at me out of the corner of their zit-ringed eye, in the hope that I'll pity them enough to enter into an actual conversation with them - until I manage to improve myself to the point of meeting my own superlative standards. And if I can see my own disgustingness and work towards self improvement, then surely the rest of the planet's ugly, feckless, troglodytes can either choose to do the same or accept their place in society as less-than-equals, thus opening themselves up to the unflinchingly blunt criticisms I currently aim at myself.

I'm sure those of you who are reading this blog are already fiercely critical of yourselves and your appearances. And I'm also pretty sure that you're just as likely to hold the rest of the world to your incredibly high, exacting standards too, causing you to notice just how disgusting some people seem perfectly happy to let themselves get, refusing point blank to do anything about it, right? Well that's just the way the world is. It's divided into those who care and those who just don't give a fuck about the way they look or the way they come across to other people. Some might say, hey, fair play to those who don't. It's great that they can be happy in their own skin without constantly worrying about their appearance. But others like me (and probably you too if you're reading this) are able, on one hand, to be concerned with what's on the inside, whilst on the other also caring deeply about the outside -  that wraps up the whole human package - too. It's good to have a pride in one's appearance and we shouldn't be made to feel shallow for wanting more than just a personality to cozy up to in bed at night. 

We as human beings are programmed to be attracted to the opposite sex on multiple levels, but physiological attraction tends to be the first, most basically programmed instinct we tune into to first weed out potential mates. We can then go on to choose from this sub-selection, depending on whether we like their personality, 'get' their sense of humour, share common interests with them, or become aroused by the scent of a potential mate; even the pheromones that we all give off, pick up on and tune into - when that thing we call 'chemistry' all comes together - plays a part in attraction. But whilst our sense of smell can be a particularly beguiling way to sense, identify, remember and become attracted to a potential mate, for the most part - men especially - we are visual creatures who without even realising it, are constantly and subconsciously silently appraising everyone we see, sizing them up for their suitability as either mates for us, or potential competition for our current love interest. 

Not everyone is physiologically attracted to the same kind of person. We all have our own preferences and we also have our own personal bête noire when it comes to physical turn-offs too. And that's great, because it means there's a lot more chance that we'll find someone who is attracted to us and to whom we ourselves are also attracted. But I just can't accept the fact that being fat is EVER an attractive or desireable trait. It is not something to be proud of. 'Fat Acceptance' groups are just pity-parties for self-deluded, failed dieters, who are trying to convince themselves, as well as everyone else, that they are not only comfortable in their skin, but happy, attractive and worthwhile. They make me sick. They're just great big, permanent reminders to themselves of how they just weren't able to master the art of self control. How every time they had the option to choose self-respect over cake, they went with the latter. And worst of all, they're liars. They're not happy: they're giving up on trying to be better and attempting to console themselves with bullshit rhetoric that they hope they will come to believe, if they just keep on repeating the Fat Manifesto Mantras to themselves before they go to bed every night. Bollocks. They're lying to themselves, they're lying to their friends and family, but even worse....they're lying to the whole world. They're trying to feel a part of a counter-cultural group in an attempt to belong. But all they're really doing is grouping their fat asses altogether so everyone else can roll on by and laugh at the lot of the lying morons, as if they were a freak show. Which, to be honest is actually what they are. Big fat bullshitting freak shows of failure. Yuck!

Fat is disgusting and it's only sought after in a partner by feeders and other weirdos who have fat fetishes. But they're not considered 'normal' because they seek to gain sexual gratification from something 'extra', something 'different' to society's definition of acceptableness/attractiveness. Of course, not every person with a fat partner has a 'fat fetish', many merely see the person they're with as beautiful, wonderful and perfect as a whole, despite them being overweight. Whilst that sounds like a lovely ideal to be party to, I actually almost hate it. Even though I'm overweight and I have a fiance who loves me dearly and who often compliments me on my appearance (how attractive he finds me etc), I'm almost sort of disappointed in a way that he is able to 'settle' for someone so intrinsically repulsive. I've told him before that when someone who is as good looking as he is (and he really is very good looking: tall, dark, handsome, rugged, strong defined features, big brown expressive eyes and a passion for motorcycles!) could get any woman he wanted, it seems wrong that he would zone in on a short, fat, opinionated troll who is way out of her league even thinking she could have anything to do with him.

Does that make sense to anyone out there? Do any of you who despise your appearances and who have a boyfriend/fiance/husband, ever feel as though you almost think less of your other half, purely because you feel as though they have 'dated down' (to steal a phrase from Patti Stanger: Millionaire Matchmaker!) and not chosen someone more suitable to them in terms of attractiveness? I really would love to hear from anyone who thinks this way too. I know it sounds fucked up and I really don't mean to sound as though I dislike my boyfriend for having chosen me (far from it! I'm forever having to pinch myself to remind myself that he really is mine!), I just feel that I have quite high standards when it comes to choosing a partner - based on my intrinsic values and the way I judge everyone (including myself) and I want my other half to have those same high standards. I want him to want the best and I want him to have the best. He is a truly beautiful, wonderful, thoughtful, intelligent, funny, sexy, doting, honest man of great integrity and he deserves to have the most beautiful woman in the world on his arm. A stunner who is also smart, funny, caring, honest and interesting. His perfect woman.

I want to be that woman for him.

I long for the day when I can happily smile and pose for a photograph with him, knowing that I don't look like some fat, ugly desperate tramp he took pity on out of kindness. I want us to look great as a couple. As though we were meant to be together. Because right now I just don't feel as though we look right when out together. I always think that people see him and see me, then think to themselves "What the fuck is a hot guy like that, doing with a repulsive, fat troll like her? He could do SO much better than THAT!" It drives me mad when we're out in public. I'm constantly thinking about how I look and how incongruous our differing levels of attractiveness are. And I don't want that anymore. I'm not going to go on living my life, feeling like some undeserving pig who somehow fluked it, pulling such a good looking guy. 

So whilst I am currently working on making myself beautiful, in order to feel safe, secure and comfortable in my own skin, I also want to make myself into the best version of me that ever can be, so that my fiance actually gets to have a woman who looks as though she fits in perfectly with his image. I want him to marry a beautiful wife, not a haggard fat harridan. I want this for me and I want this for him. I want it for both of us.

Jeez....I probably sound like some insane 1950's housewife who needs to maintain a certain standard of appearance to keep hubby happy. But I don't see anything wrong with wanting to be as attractive as possible to your other half. Right now, I get the better end of the deal. I get to be with a beautiful man. I get to gaze upon his striking profile, I get to touch that year-round-tanned skin and feel those bicep and girdle muscles. I even get to jump those smoking hot bones for fuck's sake. How on earth did I manage to bag this guy?? By stark contrast, he currently gets to look upon a short, fat, grumpy looking, miserable dollop of Play-Doh. He has to touch those fat thighs and not throw up. He somehow manages to fuck this horrendous pig and actually look like he enjoys it. He is seriously getting the shitty end of the stick in this relationship.

But not for much longer. This commitment I have made to losing weight and making myself as pretty as I possibly can, is one which I consider to be a serious investment of my future. If I am to marry this guy and be able to keep him attracted and interested in me, I need to make sure I'm not entering into married life already looking like the disappointing frump of an old married woman who gave up caring what she looked like, as soon as she managed to snag that diamond ring and matching wedding band. Project Thindarella will see me shrink and change and slowly but surely, this beautiful girl who has been hidden away, deep inside, for far too long, will emerge like a butterfly from a caterpillar's cocoon. 

If I'm being completely honest with y'all, I'm actually quite pretty, underneath all this lard. I don't want to sound big headed (as well as fat arsed!) but I have really pretty eyes, a good complexion and lovely hair. I dress kind of funky (little bit goth, little bit emo, little bit hippy, little bit biker chick, little bit alternative), am great at applying make-up to enhance what I've got and I think that when I'm slimmer, my tiny height and smaller weight proportions will make me look kinda young and cute. I hope so anyway. I hope there's a thin girl in here somewhere, trying to excavate her way out. I hope she's pretty. 

You know how people bandy that excruciating phrase about, thinking they're paying you a compliment: 

"You know, you'd actually be quite pretty if you just lost a bit of weight?"

Fuck off. No really. Fuck off. That's not a compliment. That's basically pointing out that I'm not pretty yet because I haven't lost weight. You've basically just told me, I'm unattractive to my face and you expect me to smile and thank you for pointing out my own vastly apparent state of hideous corpulence? Are you for real? Fuck off and die, dickwad!

How many of you dear readers, have had to smile and grit your teeth through that classic 'complimentary' phrase, eh? I'm guessing it's somewhere in the region of....um.....every single one of us who now restricts, binges, purges and perpetually diets, in order to try and become that pretty thin person they told you they'd be. Fuckers. 

Wow, I really am in a shitty mood today. I've just realised how much I've written and how bloody negative so much of it sounds, but we all have days like these. On any other day I probably wouldn't have been so offended by the  pre-pubescent-pharmacist who seemed to think I was somewhere in his league. I probably would have laughed it off and thought no more about it, the second I exited the chemist's. But I was already having a cunt of a day and that just irritated me further. It was like, looking at him I instantly thought that I know I'm with a guy who is so far out of my league, it's a miracle he even speaks to me, never mind lives with/loves me....but I seriously can't be so far down the food chain that I'd be considered on par with that grim looking, acne-tastic, ginger pony-tailed....MAN-CHILD!! It was a reminder to me to continue to stay the path with Project Thindarella and get myself up to the standard I know I can and should be. I need to be realising my full potential; not just with my looks on the outside, but in all aspects of my life. But to begin with I just need to concentrate on shedding the flab, getting a boob job and making myself into the prettiest version of me that could possibly exist. Once I've mastered that, my confidence will rocket and I'll be prepared to take on anything!

I know I was going to go on and on telling y'all about all the other shitty things that went on in my day today, but I'm actually getting really tired. I haven't been to bed since Friday night and apart from a two hour snooze on the sofa on Sunday afternoon after the MotoGP, I've been up and about, wide awake and obsessively reading some of the awesome blogs I've discovered recently. I don't know that I can be arsed with moaning about any more shit now to be honest, after my big rant about how I feel my boyfriend is out of my league. Weirdly enough, it was quite cathartic to write it all out and say how I truly feel without fear of repercussion. That's one of the awesomely liberating benefits of keeping an anonymous blog. It's very freeing. 

I think the improvement in my mood might also have had something to do with the couple of hours I've just spent in the company of my better half. This post was started way back at around 11.30pm. It's now 3.35am. I took a bit of a break from typing the post as I just sat and chatted to my lovely boyfriend about all kinds of stuff. I love that we can have really interesting, random, intelligent conversations. It's really important to me that the person I'm with be as smart or smarter than me. I can't deal with stupid people. I find intelligence attractive and really appreciate someone's ability to discuss everything from scientific discovery and music to religious doctrine, motorcycle racing or sociology. We share the same perspectives, me and himself. We're very well matched on what makes us tick. I love it when he teaches me something I don't know and he also gets a kick out of me telling him stuff he didn't know either. We both have a thirst for knowledge and want to understand how everything works. Intellectual curiosity is an absolute must in a man for me!

We were just chatting about the dying art of being able to write using spelling, punctuation, grammar and syntax. (Probably not something I should preach about after this insane post!) It moved on to school systems, what we were like as kids, how we can't believe kids grow up not having read a book for their own enjoyment, as we're both really avid readers. I really do love chatting to him. He stimulates my mind (as well as all the other things!!) and I love seeing the look of intensity on his face when he's talking about something he feels passionate about. It's very sexy! As shallow as I may be, wanting to have someone who is beautiful on the outside, I must admit that without the intelligence, sick sense of humour, individuality, curiosity, craziness and kindness, I wouldn't feel as though I'd met my 'soul mate' (I hate that term, but can't think of a better one right now!) He really is the total package. 

I brought home a perfume tester card with a sample spritz of a fragrance I'd tried in Superdrug this afternoon. (Boss Nuit) When I got in I passed it to him and asked him what he thought. I absolutely loved it but wanted his opinion, because I would never buy/wear a perfume that he hated/couldn't bear to smell on me. It's not that I only wear what he wants or anything creepy and controlling like that; far from it. We're both just really smell oriented people and we often suggest a scent for each other to wear for the day. I love all the aftershaves he has, but Dior Homme Sport is my favourite on him, followed by Hugo Boss Bottled. He has other Dior, Hugo Boss, Jean Paul Gaultier and Paco Rabanne amongst others, and I have over 70 perfumes ranging from Dior to Chanel or Gucci or Prada or Thierry Mugler or Jean Paul Gaultier or Givenchy....the list goes on. But we both love to smell a great scent on each other when we're snuggled up together or out for day together, so we frequently make 'smell requests; to one another if we want the other to smell a certain way!

Anyways, I told him that I almost bought a bottle of this Boss Nuit because I actually knew that he'd like it and it's on special offer in Superdrug for another three weeks (down to £30 from £42 - bargain!), but he told me not to worry because he loves it and he would like to go and pick a bottle up for me sometime next week! What a legend! He knows how to keep his repugnant little troll happy! It was just a lovely thing to have him offer and it actually helped to lift my miserable mood. I just know though, that when I go back and read over everything I've written in this post today - before I hit the 'Publish' button! - that I'll be a bit embarrassed when I see how much I know I've been gushing on about how awesome my boyfriend is. I didn't mean to turn this into a mush-fest, honest! (I think the post title proves that I didn't start off writing this post in such a loved-up mood!)

We actually did a bit of the crossword together too, which is a silly little thing that we like to do every day. We're both quite good at the more difficult cryptic crosswords, but always find that each of us manages to to work out about half of the clues, almost always the one's that the other couldn't figure out. We're a good crosswording team! Ha ha, how geeky does that sound? I suppose we are both a bit geeky in a few ways. We're very into our science shows, history channel programmes, Star Trek (yes really!), and documentaries in general . Even if it doesn't sound like a particularly gripping topic, we'll still give it a go if it's about something we're unfamiliar with, just so we can say at the end of it that we learnt something new. God we sound so fucking sad. We're really not, I swear! Oh yeah, and I almost forgot to include how we also love any kind of general knowledge or trivia based programme: Eggheads, The Chase, Mastermind, Going For Gold, Fifteen To One, Countdown, Perfection, Pointless, Who Wants To Be A Millionaire....oh I could go on and on (and on and on and on....!)

He's actually in bed now. I told him I just needed to finish up my post for today and I'd be in shortly after so I must start to wrap this up soon, because it's now 4am and I need to get up for 9.30am! I will just share one more silly mushy thing though before I go. Just as he got up to go to bed he told me "I really love having our little conversations. I love that I can have an intelligent conversation with you. You're great company babe!" before promptly kissing me goodnight and sashaying out of the living room butt naked!! Ha ha. He's so adorable. 

I'm really sorry if this post made absolutely no sense to anyone today. It's all over the place and just goes on about what pisses me off for ages, before turning into a declaration of my undying love for my boyfriend/fiance/other half/better half - delete where appropriate! I guess I really just needed to get the first part out of my system and down into words on a screen so I could try and let go of some of the frustration I was feeling. The second part really just showed how much more happy and positive I can be, just by getting to sit and chat with my man as he reclined, completely naked, like a life model waiting to be painted as he filled in his crossword! Ha ha...oh I'm so tired and just so utterly sleep deprived! I really must go to bed. I hope I haven't made any of my followers (I have TWO followers now!! Thank you to Alice and Rachael!! xx) or regular readers decide to take me off your 'blogs to read' list, based on today's post. Normal service will resume shortly and if I remember I'll also post a few of my favourite thinspo images on here soon, so you can see who it is I look to for inspiration, every time I have to get down to the business end of restricting.

To anyone who actually read all this and made it this far.....thanks for sticking with me. I'm sure there are some words of wisdom in there somewhere as well as some more personal information I've revealed in the heat of the moment. Oh fuck it, I can't be arsed going back and re-reading, editing it etc, I'm just going to hit the 'Publish' button now and be damned! It's time to bid you all Goodnight. 

Stay awesome guys and as always, stay strong

Much Love

xx