Today I cut my fringe.

I woke up this morning, and I was alright… for a bit. But then I watched a romance on Netflix and I cried at how happy the made up characters looked. I cried because they seemed so adorably in love and that made me upset.

My boyfriend called me this morning and talked to me about pointless shit as he drove to university. That made me cry because he seems so set on his future and so certain of what he wants to do with his life and yet I am still as stuck and confused as ever.

I called in to work sick this morning (bear in mind I only had a 3 hour shift) and my bitch of a manager said the most sarcastic ‘awesome’ I have ever heard in my life. I, again, cried at this as it made me think of how much I had disappointed her.

Honestly I could go on and on about how over the past week I haven’t been myself. I have snapped at the smallest of things and I have cried at the drop of a hat.

Ever felt stuck? I think I have reached that point in my life where I am so stuck and there seems to be no way out of it. I don’t know what I want to do in the future, I don’t know if I want kids and frankly the idea of pushing that out of me is absolutely mortifying, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to save enough to buy a house and it’s starting to become overwhelming, I have even started to question my love for my boyfriend. It’s like I’m not entirely sure of what love is; I’ve never felt it towards myself so what’s to say I am capable of such a serious emotion?

Today I cut my fringe.

Do I know how to cut hair? Hell no. Did I absolutely butcher it and make it look terrible? Hell yes. But you know what? I felt damn good about it.

You see, I have spent so long looking after other people, listening to them, helping them and offering advice that somewhere along the way I forgot about myself. I turned to food and while I’m not morbidly obese I am not happy with myself. I rarely do anything to make myself happy.

But today I cut my fringe. As I was cutting away the silky smooth locks I felt as if a weight was lifting from me. Momentarily I had forgotten about my life. I know it seems stupid and to 90% of you I suppose you won’t understand, but honestly, it felt good to take some time for myself.

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The moral of this story is to put. yourself. first. Honestly I am messed up, but taking a small part out of my day just to treat myself made me forget about all the shitty stuff for a while. It’s easy to forget about you and spiral into a pit of sadness and depression and often you find yourself blaming you for something that’s essentially not even your fault. So to anyone who’s reading this, cut your fringe ❤

Wedgling.

 

Running… amiright!?

I just ran down the street alone, and naturally, that shouldn’t have been an issue. However the amount of cat calls, cars slowing down and rude men yelling comments out the window was astounding. To add to that I forgot a drink bottle and my phone was on 10% at the BEGINNING of the run & you bet your ass it died about 5 minutes in.

I’m not really that big on being healthy. I mean, if someone was to put a giant plate of fried chicken and a triple layer chocolate mousse in front of me the chances of me eating it would be 99.9999%, however some days I feel gross. Anyone else get that way? Have you ever woken up, looked at yourself and thought “Jesus, I am disgusting”? Ever sworn to never eat fatty food again, only to break that oath 5 minutes later due to feeling bad about yourself so you stress eat to make yourself feel better but that only leads to more self hate because you’re a pig but you can’t stop eating and it’s just this constant spiral of eating and crying, eating and crying? Anyone else? Just me? Cool cool cool cool.

Anywho, I recently started getting a lil’ chubby- according to me- and so I have made an effort to try to be healthier. I say ‘according to me’ because my boyfriend says I am the most beautiful person he has ever seen, god bless his heart. He looks at me and smiles like he’s just been given a million dollars. But you know how it goes, you see some stunning women in a magazine with a 20 pack of rock solid abs and toned thighs, and you look down at yourself and are mortified by the flab you see.

Moral of the story, running… amiright?! It isn’t fun, it’s repetitive, and I only feel as though I need to do it to be deemed ‘attractive’ by the wider population. This world is bullshit and unfair and I am sad that it’s like this. But that’s a story for another time.

Wedgling.