Body Confidence Crisis


I think I’m getting an unhealthy obsession with the way I look. I know most people go through the same and its expected as human beings for us to be constantly critical of our bodies. However at what point is it a crisis when do lines get crossed from the expected insecurities to an actual obsession with the way one looks. I’m not sure which stage I am at. I mean I find my self constantly dwelling on the faults that I find on my body. I actually have considered every means possible to correct them and various internet searches later I find myself in a pit of depression eating away my sorrows then progressing to a state of self loathing which just carry’s on in this viscous cycle. Most people say one should just go to the gym and get active to work off the problem areas. Its great for people who are able to do that. I personally feel as though it would be an admittance of my insecurities almost like wearing them on my forehead and that frightens the hell out of me. Also I honestly feel like I’d be the fat kid in gym class getting pointed at and laughed at, worst of all the one who is whispered about. I don’t find myself attractive at all, so much so that any advances from males feels like some sort of sick joke. Like I’m the subject of some sort of elaborate prank by the whole male species. Its very frustrating because I am a confident person and I very rarely let others if ever see the humongous closet of self doubt and insecurities. I find myself self dwelling on every negative thing that’s ever been said about the way I look a passing comment or maybe harmful joke starts to eat at me I start to over analyze everything and it just breaks me down. I had a conversation with a male friend which pointed out some big character defects which are a product of said insecurities and lack of self worth. One being my settling for males who aren’t necessarily good for me and putting up with pointless and sometimes abusive relationships. I never let anyone question my intelligence or try use that as a means to bring me down, I wish I could project this confidence in my personality and translate it to a confidence in the way I look.


Face paint


A cascade of thoughts and rivers of solemn memories erode the deepest crevices of my mind

All they see is forged smiles, curled lips a fallacy of the emotions I fear to show

Uncertainty devours my heart as this beautiful lie is constantly being told.

Although my blood red and so it flows true and pure

My ideologies scattered and untamed the beauty in its deception

There is shall lay, my tormented soul…

My Black Dog


My black dog returned about a month or so ago. I got home to find him sitting outside my doorstep begging to be let in. I ignored him, the pesky little thing I thought. I hoped if I ignored him long enough he’d just take the hint and go back to wherever it was he came from. I really should have known better. Every day I woke up and could here his little whimpers outside my door. Every night I was kept awake till the early hours by his cries and gentle howls. I though If I ignored him long enough he’d just shut up and leave me alone. One night his cries got too much, I opened the door he jumped right on to my shoulder his eyes dark yet welcoming he was glad to be home. The days that followed we got close again, reminiscing on  past memories. He reminded me how much I despised him but we are all each other has. He reminds me of this daily. We laugh at train stations and how easy it would be for us to find closure on the on coming train…. He also enjoys the medicine cabinet we’ve had many a laughs at the cocktails we’ve had. He laughs at the irony of my ‘veni vidi vici’ tattoo as only he knows what lays beneath. Oh what a bond we have, me and my black dog.