Sunday, November 20, 2011

As a Child

When I think of myself as a child, I wonder if I was truly ever happy to begin with. I mean sure, I smiled and laughed just as much as the next kid, but I was never satisfied with myself. From a very early age I was already the target for 'playful bullying'. I was tiny, still am, had plenty of freckles and fat cheeks. I was called shrimp, and spotty by the other four year olds at kindergarten. I did have friends, but even they playfully made fun of me.
First year of school I got my first crush on a boy. He had dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and an elfin face. One day I kissed him right on the lips in front of the entire class. I am still teased about it today.
I was terribly OCD as a child. I hated it when my Mother cleaned my room. If she put one thing out of place I would cry. I would slam my door, throw everything on the floor, and cry. I would call my Mother names and forbid her from entering my room. It was sort of the same whenever I attempted to clean my own room. I would start off well. Vacuum the floor, wipe the dust off all the surfaces etc, etc. But then I'd have to put everything back. I would get so frustrated because I couldn't remember exactly where everything went.
So I would cry.
When I was young, I was terrified of being alone. Terrified. for the first couple of weeks at school I would cry whenever my parents left in the morning. I hated sleeping in my own bed. After I realised that I was too old to still be sleeping in my parents bed, I forced my parents to keep the door open and turn the TV up so I would know that they were there. I slept with dozens of toys so I wouldn't feel so alone.
You know what's horrible? Even then, back when I was 9 years old, I still scrutinized my weight. I knew I wasn't fat, but everyone commented on how thin I was. My own Father called me "a rake". Of course, I loved the comments and attention, so I tried to keep myself skinny. I would refuse desert and only eat half my lunch at school. I threw myself into sports for exercise. Every night I stood on the scales in the bathroom and smiled knowing that I hadn't gained anything.
Want to know something even more fucked up? I want my pre-pubescent body back. It was so slim, and I knew the other girls admired it. I can still picture my ribs sticking out as I breathed in and out, the innocent gap between my thighs, and my bony wrist that my friends could encircle with their thumb and pinky.
It's all changed now. But then again it hasn't. I'm still picked on, and am told to keep quiet when the subject of body issues comes up. I guess the only thing that has changed is me.
I'm just tired of it all.

1 comment:

  1. I enjoyed reading this post, mostly because I can some what connect to it. I screamed when I couldn't fold the heavy comforters. My arms were too frail to fold it up. I still get frustrated with duvets and duvet covers. I still scream at it.

    p.s I have those wrists...ones where people wrap their hand around and see a space between their thumb and middle finger. I feel like a freak.