A Picture is Worth a Thousand...Pounds

I hate them. All pictures of me, officially, are awful. Fat, lumpy, double chin-y, disgusting.

I am actually ashamed to be in public. Maybe that sounds extreme, but it's true. There are times when I hate being around people because of how I know they view me. I hate sitting directly next to people; I try to sit in ways and put my hands or arms strategically in places that will hide my fat rolls or double chin. Ugh, the double chin - that is the thing I hate most about my appearance. My stupid, fat face. But what's the point? I look horrible even at times when I'm supposed to look my best, with great make up and great hair and a dress that's supposed to be slimming and flattering. Fuck my life! I can't believe that I represent a professional organization looking this way. Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with me? How did I let myself get like this? I am so disgusted with myself right now.

What's worse is that I never feel that I look that bad when I'm getting ready in my own house, and then I see pictures later, and my self worth goes straight down the toilet. I feel like what I look like on the outside doesn't represent who I am on the inside. It's not me in those pictures. I guess I'm somewhere lost in that huge fat body, but it's not me. What is my identity, then? Where is it? Where is she? More importantly, when will she be coming back?

I just shouldn't have looked. I knew before I clicked on the damn link that I'd feel this way. Why fucking bother.

Fuck.