I haven't felt this horrible about myself since August 2008 when I looked in Denise's mirror in Mexico and really saw all 260 pounds of myself. I know I had gained weight, someone close to me pointed it out in a rather crude manner. I felt so disgusting and ugly at that moment that I believe it will be forever lodged in my memory.
Flash forward to today, (at least 25 pounds lighter, but obviously still heavy), and I think I've had that sort of moment again. I have had horrible skin since I started puberty. I was a thin girl before it got a hold of me with beautiful creamy skin. Now, I suffer from roseca and I field questions from kids about my skin. My self confidence is shot, has been for a while, and I'm usually able to rally myself around the fact that it will get better.
However, day after day, and year after year, I can't help but lose that hope. I have been hoping for so long for so many things and I've tried so hard to pray, to hope, to have faith, and I'm so disappointed now that I just feel like resigning myself to the fact that it doesn't get better than this. I know that's not true, but that is how it feels.
It's 12:23 in the morning and I need to get some sleep, but I just couldn't get past the tears tonight. Writing always makes me feel better, and so excuse this self indulgence in self pity, I just needed something tangible to tell this too. I hope soon, very soon, I can give you the praise report I've been praying and hoping for.
With love, Kelli.