Portfolio of Hope

The feeling of my stomach pressing against my clothes,
or my clothes pressing against my stomach,
I can’t tell which it is-
same difference anyway:
Stomach=too big,
Lisa= too fat,
too much,
mind tormented constantly.
Is it dysmorphia that I’m feeling,
or is the way I see myself when I look in the mirror actually real?
Whichever it is, it’s real to me,
and it’s horrendous.

An odd day of relief,
feeling okay with myself/with my body,
but such feelings are fleeting.
No sooner are they here than they’re gone,
head refilled wth all the thoughts of me being ‘wrong’ in some way,
inherently flawed.

I wish that I could care less about the way I look,
that I didn’t have to look at my reflection in every mirror I pass,
in every shop front,
every car window,
or, I at least wish that, upon seeing my reflection, I do not find myself overcome with feelings of complete self-loathing for hours, days, even, afterwards,
that I’m not left feeling so disgusted with myself that I want to hide myself away in fear of being perceived as ‘too ugly’,
constantly self-sabotaging because I don’t think that I’m good enough,
looking in the mirror, standing face to face with all my insecurities, picking myself apart,
desperately trying, (and failing), to work out what it is that I need to change in order for me to, finally, like myself.

Is it my hair?
My clothes?
Or is bigger than that (pardon the pun)?
Do I need to lose weight?
Will I finally like myself if I make myself smaller?

I’ve tried literally everything-
I cut my hair, don’t like it, want it long again.
I let my hair grow, don’t like it, want it short again.
I dye my hair unnatural colours, don’t like it, want my natural colour back.
I go back to my natural colour, don’t like it- too boring- want to dye it bright green.

I’m never satisfied, constantly chasing the thing that will change the way I think about myself
(to no avail).
Constantly comparing myself to everyone else.
I crave emptiness, hollowness-
whilst, equally, craving everything,
always wanting what I don’t (and often, can’t) have
until I get it
and then I don’t want it anymore.

and the cycle continues.

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