Nej

                                           

Everything seems to be so fucking perfect on the outside. But nothing of it is real. I don't know why, but I feel like being 100% percent honest for the moment. I get this urge sometimes. Maybe because I spend so much time hiding my feelings and lying. I don't lie about big things, but if someone ask me if I'm doing fine, I always say the same. I always tell them that everything is okay, even though it's bullshit.

I hate my body, because I used to be skinny - and I loved it. I loved lying down in bed, feeling all my bones and being so painfully hungry, without giving after. A few girls in class told our teacher about their eating disorders and whatnot. I despised them for giving up. I distanced myself from them, because they were losers. But our teacher just told them how brave they were. Urgh.

Me? Well. My mom gave me diet pills for Christmas and taught me not to give up. She taught me that purging after dinner is perfectly okay. Every time I ate a bit more than usual for dinner, she used to look at me, and then she would say "do you want to look like an elephant? no one is going to love you" to me, in Isaan. My mother tongue.

Pig, elephant, hippo, etc. That's what my mom used to call me when I did
something wrong. This day today, I still react when people say pig, hippo etc. I just got too used to being called ugly names, so they sort of became a part of me. My name is Aphinya. It's pronounced Apiña. My name means gorgeous beloved flower in Thai. But instead, I react to names related to big and clumsy animals. Ironic.

I remember sitting and reading about concentration camps once. God, I felt so jealous. I wanted to look like the girls in the photos. Frail, skeleton like, beautiful. But instead I looked like a pig. Still do. Back when I was 14, I bought a book about torture victims, and stumbled upon Junko Futura, a Japanese girl who got abducted when she was 17 and held for 44 days. I remember reading about how she got tortured. It was pretty brutal. Her nipples were cut off, her eyelids burned with cigarettes, fucked with scissors, hands smashed by weights, raped, flammable liquid poured on her legs and then lit on fire, etc. And yet I just got jealous. Because apparently she managed to lose a lot of weight.

I just want to be skinny again. Not thin, but skinny, dying. I feel lost under all these layers of fat. I used to be so beautiful once, back when I could feel all my bones and count all my ribs. But that was such a long time ago, so I can't really recall having been beautiful. It's like Michael's voice. I know that I love his voice, but I honestly can't remember it anymore. I just know that I love it. It's soothing, calming and makes me long for spring and well, him.

He's basically all I want. But I've had my chance. I opened up and I wanted to tell him so much about myself. Which is strange, because I usually don't get that feeling of wanting to share that much. But he's special. But he'll just make me sad, so instead of starting something I know is good for me, I started ignoring him, hoping he would stop contacting me. I regret being a bitch and not contacting him, but that's just how it is. Sometimes love's not enough when the road get's tough. I just wanted to fool around. I didn't know I was actually going to fall for him.

I suppose I'm just afraid that guys are going to turn out to be just like Jordan. After we started living together, everything quickly deteriorated. He started calling me names. Bitch, fat, ugly, gross, pig and whatnot. And if he didn't like what I had cooked, he made me cook something new for him or else.. Well. I ended up in the hospital a lot. Bruised.

It all ended one day when he he headed off to the airport while I was showering, on his way back to the Southwest. I freaked out when I realized that he was gone and went out, trying to find him - only wearing a dress. In the middle of February.

I didn't find him. Instead, I ran into two guys near the forest. I asked if they had seen him. They asked me to come closer. You know, some say they can't recall a thing, that it's all blurry for them. That they blacked out. Unfortunately, I didn't black out. I remember thinking what I had done to deserve it.

Afterwards, I felt like my life was a fucking joke. I just wanted to die. My parents were in Thailand and didn't felt like they needed to get back asap to see if I was okay. And Jordan? He pretty much just laughed over the phone, said I looked like a toad and that he didn't care. Heh. That's what he said, when I needed him the most. Even though he started making fun of my rape, I didn't hung up. I just asked him if he was okay and if he needed anything.

I suppose I started suppressing all the positive feelings for real after that, because I was afraid of being happy. Still am. I fear that the world will come crashing down if I let myself be happy for one moment. But at the same time, I'm longing to feel happy again. Which is ironic, because I don't really remember how it is to be happy. So I suppose I'm yearning for something unreachable.

I'm afraid to get hurt, so I close down. Which just makes me lonely in the end, because I always end up losing someone on the way.

Oh, when did life become this miserable? It's like I can't feel a thing, but at the same time I feel so bruised. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep, because I'm so tired of everything. I'm not sad, I'm just so tired of how bleak everything looks. But even though I'm so exhausted and miserable, I can't really feel a thing. Or, I suppose I can. But I have a hard time focusing on the positive feelings.

Seeing what I've become, makes my heart ache. Every time I see myself in the mirror, it's like I can feel my heart break in tiny pieces. I hate mirrors, but at the same time I can't help looking at my own reflection every time I walk past a mirror. Sometimes I just stand in front of my mirror, for minutes and minutes.

 It's hard to believe I used to be beautiful once. But again, that was such a long time ago. I ended up in an international boarding school in Thailand, where the teachers forced me to eat. I slowly started to gain weight, and see where I am now. Sigh. I hate being so horrible ugly.

Someone just asked me how I can be down. After all, everything is utterly awesome in my age. Thing is, I'm not sad or anything. Just really disappointed over how life has turned out to be. Meaningless. But at least Jordan is dead. Knowing he's not going to hurt me anymore makes life a little less miserable.




There's too many people on this earth. We need a new plague.