While I was growing up, I had hardly ever been told I was loved. I was always the root of the problem. Any time my parents were angry for some reason, it had always been my fault. I faced a lot of self-esteem issues my whole life. I was always picked on by my family for being fat. And that included extended family as well. I mean, my mom publicly called me names and laughed so loudly about how fat I was to everyone else, that they all thought it was ok for them to join in. To this day, I still hate any attention that I get. I hate it when people look at me. I can hardly make eye contact with people because I don’t want to see the way that they are looking at me. I used to cry a lot as a kid. Even when someone just looked at me. I would freak out and think that I did something wrong or that they were going to make fun of me.
The anxiety and depression I grew up with still lingers. I can’t shake it, and I’m not saying that it’s supposed to be that easy. But as hard as I try, I’m not going very far. I’m so afraid of saying the wrong things, or even just having people pay attention to me in general. I can’t let people in, because it take so much out of me to break down the walls that I have up. But once they leave, those walls will be back up in no time. I have become a master at the craft of building walls.
I just hope I can get through this on my own.