Well...

I am now 178.4. WHOOP!!!! Still fat but getting smaller day by day. Love you guys! Follow me on the tumblr :)  Think Skinny!!

Extremely Long, Sorry...

I decided to take a deeper look into myself. And I figured things out that, I felt sharing. I have an eating problem, I binge, binge, binge...restrict, restrict, restrict (almost starve). Then the cycle repeats. This hasn't got me anywhere. Also, I have B.D.D. If you're not sure what B.D.D is, it's Body Dysmorphic Disorder. It's where someone is constantly concerned with their body image. I honestly can say I feel ridiculously ugly, ridiculously fat. This has all became worse over the years. It all started when I was in 5th or 6th grade, when boys or anyone really started making fun of my weight, my hair, my feet, my legs. That's when I really started feeling, ugly. When I looked in the mirror, and when I still look in the mirror today, I see a monster...someone who is hideous. This is a horrible condition to live with. The time when it started to effect me more was when I was 16. I was still being made fun of by kids in high school, but this is when I got my first "serious" boyfriend. I met him on Myspace, thought he was the most amazing man in the world, and thought he really loved me. Little did I know he was an abusive, controlling, and manipulative bastard. He used to threaten to kill me and my family. He used to hold shot guns to my head and dare me to walk out the door. I couldn't have friends. I barely saw my family anymore, I was his to keep away from everyone. He proposed to me (a 16 year old girl) 3 months into our relationship, so he could "keep me forever", is what he said. He used to stalk me. I was never "aloud" to be off the phone with him when we weren't together, or else he would "come where ever you are and fucking blow your brains out in front of everyone" direct quote from him also. I remember being at the hospital in the waiting room for my mothers hysterectomy, trying my hardest to get off the phone with him, he was screaming at me that as soon as he finds me, he was "going to rip your fucking fat head off your body, then kill your sister right infront of you." And there he was, he showed up. Sat down by me and grabbed the back of my neck and whispered, "if you ever do this to me again, I'll take you so far from here no one will ever find your body." I remember one Christmas ( I was with him for 2ish years), the last Christmas my grandfather was alive, he wouldn't "let me" get off the phone. I spent most of the night in the bathroom trying to calm him down. We left to go to my grandmothers house, when I got there, he walked into the garage behind me. He choked me up against the back door, and threatened to kill me right there at my families house. You know what I did? Cried. That's it, forgave him and cried. I know what you're thinking, because I thought it too. Are you fucking kidding? Why didn't I just leave him? Why didn't I call the police, or tell my family? Why would I give him all the control? And I wish I had those answers. I really do. But here is where the sun begins to rise a little. I finally had the guts to leave him. 18 yrs old, I was done with this shit. I started my new job, met the guy of my dreams (my now husband), and I wanted this fucker gone. He stalked my the whole day, got in my car threatened me, and stole my debit card. I got out of my car, so did he, I punched him in the face (that was ridiculously brave), and went into work and called the police. FINALLY, I was done with this asshole. And I swear, he has only tried to contact me twice, and that was right after that happened. And  I haven't heard from him since. But I think how much he controlled me and made me lose control, is why I have such a fucked up mind. I have such a better life now. A son who is beautiful, a husband who loves me (even though he has a porn addiction has fucked my mind up too, he is still a good provider and I feel like we can work it out), and I have never been so close to my family. But, there is still the B.D.D issue. I hate myself, everytime I look in the mirror I cry. I hate what I look like and how I look. I want to fucking die sometimes. Have you ever hated yourself? It's horrible. I sometimes imagine myself being dead, how everyone would react, I sometimes think it would be good. I don't know. But I finally decided, I need to go to therapy. It's time. And I felt like I wanted to let you guys into my head a little. Sorry for the huge rant. Love you all. Think skinny, stay strong.
<3 Kat

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