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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Drama · #2323649
Work in progress

I have had some bad nightmares last night and slept very
little and the sleep I did get was not restful at all. I
really think this whole Warren thing has really gotten to me
mentally and has reawakened with the help of the evil enemy in
my head a lot of my past mistakes and heartaches. I guess
also me watching the criminal investigation channels that I
watch really is not helping me out with this either. I just
hate when I have such vivid and horrible dreams, I call them
dreams even though they are nightmares. I had everything
running through my sleep last night from being fucked over by
Warren and having him just make a dumb ass out of me, to him
cheating on me after we were involved in a relationship. I
just don't know anymore, my mom always tells me to let fate
take control and bring a man to me, well I did that this time.
He literally ran into me, I wasn't looking for a guy to run in
the back of me, so I could find love, that would be pathetic
even I know that. Maybe I should just learn to be happy
living alone with Brandi and not want a man in my life. But
that is not me, I want to share my life with a man that I love
and that loves me. Already I am not counting on it being
Warren, I can't count on that because I know it isn't going to
happen even before he proves that as the truth.
I just hate feeling so inferior and just feeling like I am not
enough, not skinny enough, or pretty and feeling like every
female out there is a lot better than me. I hate how much
energy I put on wishing I was someone I am not, that I would
look like the people you see on tv, in magazines or for that
matter in porn. I just know that I will never look like those
people, I never had the perfect body or looks. Like I said I
was never one for exercising and to look like those people, I
know it would take a lot of hard work at the gym and I also
know for a fact even if I was able to get my body down to a
half decent size I would be unhappy. It seems like when I
lose weight and look a little better, I get depressed because
my breasts will get smaller and I don't lose as much weight in
the places where I want to lose it. Instead I lose it in the
places that I want to keep it, like my tits, and ass, so the
bottom line here is that I must learn to accept and love
myself the way I am. If I don't do that I know that I will

never be able to be happy with myself and my looks. I have
tried so many times to feel better with myself but was never
successful. I also need to realize that I may not be the most
beautiful woman or be a woman with a perfect body, but I am
not the worst looking or fattest person either.
I once heard this saying and it stuck with me and I do believe
it is true. You may not be the richest, prettiest or best-
looking person, no matter who you are there will always be
someone that will be better than you. I know that is fact,
but I would be happy to be able to look at myself and be
satisfied with what I see. It is hard to do though when you
have a voice in your head that will never let you forget about
all the flaws you have, whether they are real or imaginary to
me they are real, and that voice is confirming my thoughts and
feelings. I must be grateful for what I have, I mean there
are people worse off out there, I mean I have my health, I
have all my limbs and there are some that are not that
fortunate, I know. This is the one thing that I despise about
myself, that I put so much power into looks and the outside
appearance versus what I have inside to offer. It’s a disease,
I believe that whole heartedly and I just need to cure myself
of it. Which one day I hope and pray I will be able to do.
These people that are perfect that appear in magazines and
on television and porn are not real. Most of them have so
much makeup on and they are now perfected by a computer
program, and they are not even as perfect or flawless in
person. I have looked up women porn star pictures that have
leaked onto the internet that show them without makeup and I
do have to admit even if they have the perfect body, or at
least in my mind they do they are not as beautiful without the
makeup. Hell, I would even go as far as to say some of them
are hideous, and I believe I would choose staying overweight
and keep my looks than to be skinny and must wear all that
makeup to be attractive. I watched a documentary and I
learned that even the people you think are gorgeous and have
it all, that they even hate themselves and think they have
flaws at times.
I am lucky I don't wear much make up I never did, my makeup
consists of some powder foundation, some blush, eyeshadow and

mascara. When I have plans I will maybe go a little bit
further and put on liquid foundation and some eyeliner, but I
never have felt a need for tons of makeup. I hate the feeling
of wearing a lot of make up to me it is very uncomfortable,
and I am always afraid to touch my face in fear of smearing
something. Same thing with my hair, my normal daily hair
regimen is maybe some mousse, drying it with no specific way
and putting on hairspray. That’s it those are my beauty
secrets, well not beauty secrets just the secrets to my
looking half acceptable.
I just wonder if all these self-criticizing, self-hate
feelings come strictly from the bad and fucked up
relationships or if there are deeper lying reasons. I know as
I was growing up, and to this day my dad has a roaming eye.
He will look at women even when my mom is along, and my mom is
so confident in herself. Or at least she portrays to be,
things like that don't get her all worked up and jealous like
me. My God if the guy I am with is looking at a chick that I
feel is better looking than me, which is almost every person,
I get so upset and hurt. I even get jealous if I am out in
public with a guy and he calls a waitress or bartender Hun or
sweetie, I want to scratch his eyes out. It is such a
powerful and ugly feeling, jealousy. It eats you alive and
makes you question everything, I feel like I need to have the
guy’s attention all the time. I second guess the guy's
feelings for me if I find out he was looking at porn, and if
we weren't intimate on that day.
The belief I have in thinking that the guy I am with must fuck
me or touch me or he doesn't love me. Why is that thought
even in my mind, why is sex the main proof that I guy loves
me. I feel like that is the telltale sign to prove that he
loves you, and it isn’t how he treats you any other way. The
sad thing is from my past I honestly should realize it
obviously isn't true, because if it was I would have tons of
guys out there that love me because they fucked me. But there
aren’t, they were history the next day. But if the guy I am
dating doesn't want to have sex with me or touch my body I
feel like I am unattractive to him and that he will just cheat
on me the moment that a pretty, and skinny woman pays any
attention to him.

This is not a good way to start the day, with all these
thoughts and feelings all because of my restless night and the
pressure I am putting on myself with Warren. I know that I
need to seek help for my issues and not just brush them off
and take the medication, I know that I need to one day start
seeing a therapist again and need to stick with it. The only
way to love someone else and to let that person love you, is
to love yourself first. See all this shit I know, all these
helpful tips I can tell someone else. But why can't I just
fucking help myself and do these things? I take a couple
steps forward and a zillion backwards, every time I think I am
doing good and on the right path, something comes along and
derails me. It crushes me and pushing me right back into the
bleak less of life where I was previously residing.
People that know me have a hard time understanding that I am
not happy and carefree. Oh no that is the public version of me
that I let others see the unhappy, suicidal at times, jealous
me is well hidden on the inside far away from the public eye.
It is sad and depressing, and somedays I just will sit and
think my whole life is just one big facade, or at least most
of my adult life has been.
When I was young I was happy, I never was obsessed with how I
looked, if my clothing looked ok on me, or if everyone liked
me. I didn't go around kissing everyone's ass that I thought
didn't like me, like I do now and only do that to have you
like me. Why do I even care what others think of me? Why
can't I have that if you like me fine, if you don't fuck you I
don't care what you think? Will I ever be able to love myself
enough to get to that point in my life, the point where the
only person I should be that concerned about liking me is me.
Will I ever hit that spot in my life? What will happen if I
don't? So many times, in the past I have contemplated ending
it, giving up and putting others out of any misery that I may
cause them. Putting myself out of the misery of being so
foolish and depressed, giving others all the power over my
happiness. I have been asked so many times by health
professionals, if I ever thought about hurting myself, my
answer was and always will be answered with a question doesn't

everyone, isn't it normal. The next one to be asked after
they get my answer is " do you have a plan of how you would do
it?" My answer was I have a couple of ways planned out in
case I would be brave enough to follow through. I always
reassure them though that they don't have to worry, because I
have not done it yet, and I really doubt I would ever have the
balls to do it. If I did you would not be sitting here
talking to me right now, I would be a dead decayed corpse by
now.
I have tried talking to my mom about how I felt in the past,
but it is hard for her to understand and give me advise. I
guess I realized a while back that there are not too many
people I can talk to or turn to, because there are not many
people that think the way I do. Which I guess is a good
thing, because I have a feeling the world would not be a very
healthy place if there were more people out there that felt
this way. But like I said I know that Janet has faced some
hard times throughout her life too and we seem to have the
same feelings inside about ourselves.
I really have not had the opportunity to get very close with
Janet, I think that there is a good possibility that we could
become good friends, but it is me that would cause it to not
happen. I just have a hard time of allowing changes into my
life, and if I get a boyfriend then I know I would end up just
pushing her away and out of my personal life, because remember
that my life must revolve around the guy I am with. Then
would come the jealousy, what if the guy would fall for her
and want her instead of me. It is a cruel and vicious cycle
living with all these negative and self-defeating thoughts.
I glance over at Brandi and again think, how great it must be
to be an animal, to not have such thoughts or pressures. To
be taken care of by a human that loves you and that you know
will be there when you need something. I mean it is vice
versa with a pet, they love you no matter what, they are not
going to crush your heart or belittle you with nasty and
hurtful words. They are just there to love you and they
always seem to sense when you need love because they will

always come to you and snuggle with you. Why aren't people
the same way, why are we so cruel and heartless to each other,
why can't we learn from our pets and treat the people that we
are supposed to care about the way our pets treat us?
Well I think I better get my ass in gear and start getting
ready for work or I will never make it there in time, not at
this rate. I slide out of bed, grab my clothing and head down
to the shower. It is already ten after 7:00 and even though I
woke up a couple minutes early I spent way too much time and
energy with these fucking racing thoughts in my head this
morning.
Thanks be to the wonderful dreams of the night for making this
Friday morning one of the ones I can chalk up to be a top
fucked up morning. I jump in the shower and mindlessly go
through my rituals of getting ready for another day at work.
This day will probably not turn out to be much better than it
is this morning, today is the day that Warren gets to make or
break the little bit of self-worth that is left inside this
empty outer shell. That is about the size of what is inside
of me, I feel like a roasted peanut that just had its insides
eaten. The insides and the heart that once resided inside
this shell of Sophie is no longer there, just little bits and
pieces. Pretty much what is left inside of me is there to
keep me alive, the resources that help me to do my everyday
things and to help keep that voice going inside my head.
I grab my phone on my way out and glance down and just sigh,
this is not going to be a good day. As bad as I want to just
run away or run down the hall into the bathroom and rip all my
clothing off and throw PJs back on and hide under the covers
in my bed all day, or all weekend for that matter I know I
can't. So, I scrounge up every single ounce of strength I
have and try to encourage myself to open the door and get my
fucking ass to work I have bills to pay for fucks sake.
Sophie, I yell at myself in my mind, you dug this hole now you
must fill it and fix it. You have done this before and you
can do this again, this time learn from your actions, don't be
the fool and do this to yourself again let Warren be the last

man you allow to do this to you. I slam the door harder than
what I wanted as I blow Brandi a kiss and tell her I love her.
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