Lights: Visible Shame (Dear Cookie Monster)

Lights: Visible Shame

Dear Ana (25) and Twenty (20),

You want a letter? Fine.

I hate both of you.

Yes, you too Twenty. You’re not cool, you’re pathetic. Both of you are.

Wow, that’s so great you guys are going to sit with me in my closet and in the bathroom while I’m eating. You guys are so compassionate and wonderful and I am so grateful that you are finally here, I’ve needed you for so long.


What the hell, you guys? This behavior is disgusting. I am disgusting. Do you know how embarrassing it is to go out in public looking like this? Do you not feel any mercy at all? I am dying and crumbling into a million pieces every time we go outside looking like this. If I actually really put myself into this body and feel how big it is, I will have a panic attack.

Why have you both undone everything that I worked so hard to create?

I was a terrible student, I was fat, I had no friends, I was miserable. But I worked myself to death so that I could get into that school and I had friends there, real friends for the first time in my life.

But then you, twenty (we seriously need to come up with names, guys), blew that all to hell. Did you forget it was your job to get good grades rather than to get skinny? I am just speechless and don’t even know what to do with you. You’re just too unbelievable.

I worked SO hard for SO long to get us out of that terrible house with those terrible people, and what do you do? Barf until you have to be sent home. Three times.

You’re pathetic. I don’t care if you’re so cool with your parties and skanky clothes and fake friends and boys. You are just pathetic. And needy. And disgusting. I don’t even want to be in the same room as you, so get the hell out of my closet and this bathroom.

As for you, Ana. Again, what the hell? You are supposed to be the adult around here.

If I knew I was going to grow up and become you, I wouldn’t have even tried. The only thing keeping me going was that this was all going to get better, that I would never have to go back to this place of darkness and despair.

And here you are catapulting us back into the thick of things. Back into this smelly disgusting swamp.

You think I’m the swamp? Yeah, hearing that is really going to make me super thankful that you’re here.

And you are so fake, Ana. So incredibly fake.

You’re not sitting here with me because you actually want to, you’re just doing it so that I’ll like you and help you figure out how to stop bingeing. Well, I’m not playing along. You guys have ruined my life, taken away everything that I love and whatever tiny shred of self-respect that I once had for myself. You have made me a joke, a failure, a disappointment. I feel so much rage I might explode.

I’m loving these plans to go back to school and have another shot to redeem myself now that Twenty has gotten all her partying done and hopefully will not decide to throw away everything in pursuit of a high that she’ll never get again.

But seriously, who do you think you are? You can’t do it.

The world was your oyster, and you threw it away. You can’t handle being anything but the pathetic bloated disgusting blob that you are right now. Just go hide away and never come back. Even the people on the subway are disgusted by you, hate that you’re polluting their vision with your disgusting fatness and ugly skin and greasy hair and clothes that don’t fit.

Seriously. Nothing fits. Nothing. Fits. Do you know how much that makes me want to scream and break down sobbing?

Everyone can see. Everyone can see everything. They see everything. EVERYTHING.

They don’t get to know. No one gets to know. Why are you doing this so that there’s no way to hide it? Why are you doing this? Why? I don’t want anyone to know how disgusting I am. Why are you advertising it for all the world to see? This disgusting bloated body you’re toting everywhere is like a big flashy blinking sign that says, “Disgusting failure.”

If you were fat and had friends, fine. If you were fat and in school, fine. If you were fat and successful, fine. But you are NONE of those things. You don’t get to be fat when that’s all you are. You are nothing but fatness. You have no get out of jail free card. You have nothing to redeem yourself. You are just fat. Disgusting. A failure.

How could you have done this, both of you, to everything that I created?

It was so beautiful and you smashed it to pieces by sitting on it with your big fat behind. The one that keeps you from putting your pants on above your mid-thigh. You are truly disgusting.

I was this same size, but at least I was doing something about it. I was trying. I would exercise, not eat, make plans, go on diets. You are doing nothing but pigging out. Why are you not doing anything?

You say this is me just needing to be me for a while, but you’re right about it not actually being me. It’s not me.

I am the strong smart powerful unstoppable person who is going to do everything and be incredible. I am not this pathetic person hiding away and shoving food into her mouth. I don’t want to be her. Why are you making her come back again?

I did everything I could to not be myself.

Why are you trying to drag this disgusting mess back into the picture when I had shoved it away so completely? Why?

You’re just sitting over there looking all concerned and planning your response, you’re not even listening to me.

And Twenty is still sulking because I said she wasn’t cool. Get over yourselves and start acting like adults.

You are not my age. You are not fifteen. You don’t get to act like a fifteen-year-old.

Me acting like that wasn’t OK at that age either, it’s not OK for people to be like this. Ten years have gone by, why have you not figured out how to fix this? I put so much energy into the future, why is this still happening? Why are you two such failures? Why? WHY?

OK, I’m done with this.

Yes, I’ll keep writing. It’s actually pretty fun to tell you what horrible people you are since you’ve been telling me that the whole time. YOU guys are the swamp, not me. I’m the one who was trying to drain it. Maybe I did, and now you guys are just all the disgusting stuff at the bottom I couldn’t see because you were submerged.

Do something about this. Now.


Fifteen (15)

And seriously, come up with some sort of naming system. I am not a number.


Dear Reader,

Hi. I don’t have a stupid question.

Ana is the one who set up this stupid project and at the end she always wants to ask a question, break the 4th wall, because this is published where people can see it. Really stupid idea, if you ask me. It’s like that blinking sign.

Come see how crazy and disgusting we all are! Get your popcorn here, it’s going to be a show! Pathetic.

I think she just wants people to think she’s cool or innovative or fancy because no one thinks that and they are right to not think that. She is the worst person I have ever met and I am so horribly depressed that I become her. She is a complete waste of space contributing nothing to society and doing nothing to improve herself.

And yet she still expects great things to happen to her.

She doesn’t understand why she’s suffering the injustice of having no friends, being so fat, not having a fancy job, and her family so incredibly glad that she is finally gone.

You want to know why, Ana? You. You are the reason that everything is terrible.

I don’t really even hate you because you’re not worth all that energy. I’m just disappointed. I’m done. I’m just done. I did my part and worked hard so that we could be something, do something great with our life, and you just threw it all away.

You don’t get my cooperation or support because you don’t deserve it.

Your fake compassion and offer to help don’t make up for it, they just give me more reasons to not want anything to do with you. So no, I’m not going to ask our “Dear Reader” to answer a question. You shouldn’t be asking people stupid questions, you should be apologizing for your existence and hiding away so you stop embarrassing yourself.

God, I am so tired. You really are not worth it.


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