This isn’t a letter, I’m just processing something.
There’s no wifi here, so I’m writing this on my phone.
I just can’t do this.
I can’t type fast enough. I keep making typos.
I don’t have anything to write, anyway.
I’m just done being me.
I’m tired of being me. I don’t want this body, this skin, this brain, this everything. I want it gone.
I feel so trapped in here.
I just want to go walk around. I just want to go outside. But I don’t want to go outside when I look like this.
Please just make it all go away.
I just want to wake up and for it to all be gone.
I am too big to be here.
I wish I didn’t have to step on a scale yesterday. I don’t like that number. It’s staggering.
Just let me not be here, please.
I’m too tired.
I don’t know how I’ll be able to write. I work during the day and I really don’t like being in places where people can see me. Especially at night.
I’m just going to have to make this work somehow.
This feels so terrible to lose this, I NEED this.
I hate this.
I will just have to make it work somehow.
This is a good thing.
I can do this.
Time to put on my big girl panties.
Except it’s 12am and I’m in my pajamas.
Or I can just figure out how to do this on my phone.
That would actually be more convenient if I could figure out how to write these during my commute on the subway.
Again, this is a good thing.
Time to go look for a photo filter app because, yes, that is up there with reasons why this is making me anxious.
I like things being uniform. I also like making this blog look nice because it encourages me to write and take this seriously.
I am also going to take a step back and be so happy that I am worrying about wifi and pretty pictures rather than a lot of other things I normally worry about.
I am just talking to myself now.
..which is what I’ve been doing this whole time.
Ok seriously done this time.