Ramblings about body image and life you can totally ignore (Patreon)

I just want some stuff out of my system, and maybe seeing them out in the open will help me apply them to my life. But again, you can absolutely just ignore and pretend this post doesn't exist.

I ate a huge slice of apple pie today. And damn it was good. It's still fall here, so it was all appropriate and fuck, super delicious. And after I enjoyed it, the feelings started to come back. It feels a bit like they're screaming, but it's also whispers that threaten to... well, just don't let me enjoy my damn life. They call me useless, ugly, stupid. All types of awful names cause I ate something that will make m,e gain weight. "Can't you see," they say "there are people actually giving money to see your stuff? And you still do careless shit like that? You'll get so ugly no one will want to see you" and so on. But I know it's an excuse, cause they used to tell me those awful things long before I started to cosplay, or patreon, and I know that if I'll let them, they'll find a new way to make me feel like I'm a failure.

I'm sitting in my bed right now, with the information of all the exercise I should be doing, how to distribute it, what to eat tomorrow, what to eat the rest of the week to compensate such an awful action. I ate too much, and I knew. No one forced me to eat. I did it. I'm causing this. I'm the one to blame for my suffering right now, cause I should know better by know. 

But then there's another whisper. This one doesn't ever feel like it's yelling. It's always a soft voice. A Leticia that somehow is still alive even after all these years of fighting anorexia. It's a gentle voice, telling me that's all okay. And damn, she makes some good points. And I admire her. I wish I could be her friend, I wish I could just be her. Cause she's so confident. She says it's okay if I gain weight. I'm allowed. I'm allowed to eat whatever I want, and just stop exercising all together if I hate it so much. She knows me. Knows all I want to do with all the time I spend working out. She knows I'd love to improve my makeup skills, my wig styling skills. My drawing skills. That I'd love to cosplay more and don't feel the need to throw up from anxiety every time I think about trying to look sexy (you're disgusting, the other voices will say). "Why do you turn everything you love into something you hate?" She asks. I know why. It's cause I hate myself and I sabotage everything I can possibly enjoy. I used to get so damn excited every time I got into cosplay. Now it fills me with self doubt and feelings of not being good enough. Not fit enough, not pretty enough, not skinny enough.  

"Let me handle this," she offers. "Let me take charge for a few days. I'll make sure you enjoy life. I'll make sure you'll draw, you'll cosplay, you'll read and write and create. You'll do everything that gets your heart racing in the best way. Life will be exciting and motivation will come back and it will stay." And I know she means it. I've seen it, glympses of that life that's far from perfect but it's good anyways. So good for me. But I'm a coward and I prefer to lock myself in a dark room with music I don't even enjoy anymore, sweating and panting and aching and crying. Touching my belly, my face. Why are they so big. Why can't I be better. Why am I so weak. As if not having a perfect body was the most awful thing in the world. "It is if you have people paying to see you", they say. And I wanna throw up again. 

So despite all the good points the gentle voice makes, I stay the same. Cause I wanna stay safe. Cause I'm terrified of it going wrong. Cause I don't wanna gain weight cause that'd make me unlovable, unlikable and ugly. And she says "But I'd be in charge, so it wouldn't matter, right?". She is amazing like that. "I wouldn't mind losing everything to gain happiness and see you laughing everyday. I would give everything away just to see you enjoy life again and be the person you know you can be. You don't have to admire me. You can BE ME, cause you are me, but you're not letting yourself". And I know. But I'm scared.

Don't be scared.

How?

Let go.

How?

Be happy.

HOW?

And I keep asking "how" just to have someone tell me what I already know, I keep asking in case someone will say the exact right thing I need to ear to make it all click and it'd be fine. I keep asking so the universe or someone or something will make it all go away and I don't have to try. Cause I'm so scared I don't wanna move. But I have to, cause I don't wanna live like this forever.

I don't wanna be like this forever. 

But I will, if I don't make a choice.

I tell the gentle voice that her awesomeness is not compatible with the body I want to achieve, or the one I wanna mantain. I cringe at myself as I type those words, cause hell. How shallow. How damn shallow and awful I sound. That's the person I'm forcing myself to be, and the gentle voice just waits and listens.

I suffer, I cry, I'm anxious and sad and I pretend, just so I can be this person.

Just so I can be a shallow, superficial person.

I wanna throw up again.

This is not what I wanna be. It's not what I'd advice a good, dear friend to be. If anyone told me they're actively choosing to be that person, I'd do my best to help them just be themselves. Fuck everyone else. Fuck society, fuck everything that hurts you. "You're not your image," I'd tell them. 

"You can do anything"

"You're strong"

"You're more than your image"

And I'd be right

The gentle voice still listens. She always does. And I've ran out of excuses. I wanna scream and throw at her face "but what about _____ cosplayer?! They're amazing and so skinny and everyone loves them cause they're skinny and pretty!" I know she'll say it's way more than that and I'm just being petty out of spite, cause I don't know what else to do. "If I try so hard and I'm still this awful, I'd be utterly HORRIBLE if I just don't try!", and I know she'll say that no matter how fit or skinny or fat I am, I won't be happy with my looks anyways, cause I hate myself. "Then I'll just stay the same", I wanna scream. God, I wanna stay the same. And she gives me those compassionate eyes, and she knows I don't. She knows I wanna be the best version of me, whatever shape that Leticia is in. That who cares if I'm the chubby cosplayer, that who cares if I never make a single dollar with cosplay anymore. That who cares about anything if I'm not being happy. And fuck I wanna be happy. I wanna be excited again. I wanna feel more than just this overwhelming self hate that clouds everything else.

"Your art is worth it"

"I'd still be here"

People are so kind and understanding and I'm so petty and shallow. And by choice, cause that's not the real Leticia. 

The real Leticia has a gentle voice and compassionate eyes.

I wanna be her.

I can be her.

I am her.