So, I have just come back from a series of doctor visits (which I would document in subsequent posts) but what gripes me after my return was that everyone around me seems to turn into an expert upon hearing that I am sick.
“Eat these, it will cure you for sure!”
“Do not eat that, it is not good for you.”
“Do not take the medicines the doctor gave you! Have these instead.”
…were a few of the many things these so-called experts say.
Well, sorry? Are you a doctor?
Did you study to be one?
Did you spend time studying said disease?
Do you have any qualifications or scientific backings to say such claims?
Do you suffer from the same disease?
Do you have personal experiences surrounding the disease?
Did you actually cure someone to total health?
No, No and No. So stop acting like idiots and stop acting as if you are experts. Yes, sometimes the medical industry has its questionable practices. You may not trust them, but really, all those home remedies or stuff you see online…do they actually fair better than a doctor’s recommendation?
So, stop reminding me that I am not what I am supposed to be – in good health. I ought to be – but I am not. Stop making me think that chose to be in this situation because I had no idea then. Stop going on and on, as if you are the know-it-all when you don’t. Stop saying things as if it wasn’t that bad when you do not understand how painful it can be.
Why don’t we sit down and have a nice talk about how lovely the weather is today.
(F*ck its hot!)
I really, truthfully, definitely, have no idea.
This has just become a space where I pour out what I have in my head,
It can be gaming, travelling, reading, exercising , the frequent brain farts here, there. The lessons I learnt.
The stories I heard
It is just money spent on a digital, journal notebook. Which isnt so bad, a subscription on WordPress cost as much or maybe more or less, a moleskin notebook every writer rave about.
My goal on writing a blog is because it could be a place where I can-
- share my thoughts,
- upkeep my language skills as I live in my hometown where English is not the main language and it would be a waste of years and years of studying the language,
- a diary of places I travelled, the games I played, the books I read,
- a log on how I tackled health,
- a collection of lessons in life and where it came from,
- memories preserved,
- a legacy for my future generation (look grandpa did this when he was 20!)
- a chronicle on how I lived.
But even more so, I believe that stories – serves as a lesson, an escape and a connection.
A lesson on how to be. An escape from familiarity. A connection between another.
Like how desperate for attention can you be?
Well, great job, you did it. Good for you. Get lost.
I understand that this is a deviation from the usual topics present in this blog. But it is an issue I would like to share after reading an article about Glenn Donelly – the man who skydived nude with a violin . In summary, Glenn did what he did not only to celebrate his triumph in life, but to also tell the world that everyone can suffer from body dysmorphic disorder .
As for myself, I feel as if I did experience such issues as well. Although, as a boy, any feelings conveyed will just be met with skepticism, and a little joke. “Boys don’t cry”or my Jesus obsessed mother would say “Hey be grateful that you are given a functioning body” and then proceed to cook all your favorite food and derail any attempts at changing – and being weak-willed, I proceed to succumb. Or an annoying brother who proceed to spell your major insecurities to your (then)crush, further chipping whatever confidence I had left to face her.
I get frustrated over things that has to do with my appearance, especially with things about my appearance – and an explosive emotional outburst will ensue. I would get frustrated at my mother for cooking for me those unhealthy treat that I oh so love, when I know in my little heart she meant the absolute best intentions for me. I would get frustrated at my brother who I know loves me. At my Father who would take a jab and asked me if I needed new clothes because I am always wearing the same ones that fit me. I absolutely hated going to a clothing store with him. He meant well when he offered to get me clothes from there and I had to get bitch-pissy and waited outside the store, telling him “NO, nothing will fit me, why can’t you understand?”
I am sorry, very sorry. But I felt helpless as these outbursts happen. I know I am being an utter shit but I couldn’t stop what I am saying. It just…comes out. After all that disgusting behavior is over and done, I would sit in my room telling myself that I am a piece of turd. Getting depressed and then proceed to gaming to get my mind over it. I will not bring it up again because when I do, I do not know if it result in another foul outburst or me having to repeat the process of self-loathe,which I find one of the most lonely and painful process to deal with.
I hated expensive clothing because I feel no matter what I wear, it will look utterly bad on me. I hated the idea of me being in a relationship with someone because I do not want to impose this loathing mindset on the person I would call my lover. I feel no one would learn to love me when I myself, don’t love me. I shut everything that leads to feelings being in motion. I will sit in my room, playing my games and inactively stopped looking and shut myself. I told my parents it was better for me to spend less time together because when we do, I hate myself for letting my emotional guard down around them, and I do let the guards down around them which led to an undesirable self-loathing outbursts. I hated my body because it no longer is in the same condition as a healthy person would be. I cried and sat on the stairs the morning I was bound for a city-event run because I felt on that day was my shot to let go of my sickness and run…because my leg is all better…only to have woken up in pain and couldn’t do the run..much less a walk. I hated my body as it is covered with eczema, dark, stretch and scratch marks. I hated myself…for being what I am – emotionally…physically…mentally…every -ly…
My friends would tell me why am I so cold and quiet most of the time…but I am like that because I am close guarding something ugly I do not want you to see. And for those who did see it, I am ashamed- I hope we are still friends, or if the bridge has burned because of my outburst, I am truly, truly sorry. And for those who finds me annoyingly talkative, thank you, because around you I can forget these insecurities.
In the media, it has always been an issue for young girls where they would inadequate from the many unrealistic effects done on model cover shots. But what about the boys who were then shown the flashy abs? Can they feel the same as the young girls, who is comparing themselves to their idols? Absolutely yes. Female celebrities all over the world has taken a stand on body dysmorphic disorder issues on young girls, but are there any who fight for the same cause for the boys? Too little. So, thank you Glenn. You have inspired me to change today. And congratulations for your victory.