I hate my body sometimes. Like now.

The Bookworm's picture

I have not been having a nice day. Not remotely.
To start with, this morning, my mom found a gigantic muscular knot in my back, and told me that to fix it I'd probably have to do pilates, which wouldn't be a problem at all except that I was sleep deprived and started actually verbalizing an internal rant. I'm sick of having to do things because of my body. I'm sick of not getting enough sleep, sick of randomly twitching, sick of my hyper-sensitive skin. I want to do what I want to do, not what I have to do. For years now, I've gone from one physical problem to another and I am SICK OF IT. I really hate my body sometimes.
Furthermore I'm sick of not feeling emotions because I've rationalized why I shouldn't. If I want to wallow in self-pity, for god's sake, I should wallow in self-pity for a bit. Yeah, other people have it a lot worse, but hey, I'm sure they've wallowed in self-pity too. If I think someone's attractive, I should think them attractive, not avert my gaze and think about something else because it feels like a betrayal of friendship or just plain awkward to find them attractive. I've been lying to myself too much.
My brain is fucked up. My body is fucked up. My emotions are fucked up. I spend three weeks PMSing and then 1 week on my period and I don't know what's my hormones and what's my emotions anymore.
Oh yeah, and the girl I've spent the last year and a half crushing on is definately straight.
God, what about my life isn't fucked up?