Waste of a Naked Girl

just a little excerpt from my memoir.


“Waste of a Naked Girl”

When I think of it, of our naked bodies lying together
on the bed in his apartment, right across the way from
my own, it is far away. It was another lifetime.
Afternoons and beers and long nights and his hands on
my body... that could not have been me, there is
disparity between me and her. Me and her; different
girls. She is naked and happy and lush. I am—
what?
Scary.

That is what I am. A waste of skin, a thing to be abhorred.

Nakedness does not become me anymore.
I have tried to stare this body down in the mirror,
tried to lay another picture, one I keep in my mind, of this
lush girl, over top of my reality. It does not work.
The mirror cannot see my mind;
I can no longer look into the mirror.

What a waste of a naked girl.


(i used to have a body that men adored. slender,
but not skinny, shapely,
flat belly, small but firm bosom, killer legs.
i would kill myself if i weren’t dying already,
if there weren’t already a downward spiral happening.
there is a burden, a burden of memory, weighing me down,
it is the only weight on me. i can remember a life
before this living walking disgusting hell and it is
a goddamn burden.
i want to kill this memory, because in this
reality, any other lives do not matter. they cannot. )

Stress Ball

I love stress. Love it.
Stress turns me into a tiny ball of fury,
full of piss & vinegar, and constant ickiness.

Not only that, stress affects me physically.
today, stress showed up at the cafe, right after
the lunch rush, in the form of me passing out in
the hallway. Lovely.
I hate fainting: I hate that fuzzy-headedness,
that feeling of losing control, the weakness in
my muscles. I know that this is the result of
stress; I know that all the things I"m worried
about are coming out in physical ways. My body
is trying desperately to tell me something.

Here's what I think my body is telling me:
First off, quit working the graveyard shift!
You don't like it, it doesn't like you, it's a
bad fit. Get out. It's affecting your sleep &
eating patterns in very bad ways. Get OUT!

Also, stop worrying about money. I hate money,
the very thought of it burns me up. Unfortunately,
in this country, you need money to live. I am
looking for ways in which I can change that. I am
sick to death of worrying about money. It is not
the most important thing in my life, not by a long
long shot. Lately, every time I think about money,
I feel a tightening in my chest. Ugh.

Last night, my stress showed itself in a nice little
crying jag, which did indeed make me feel better.
What didn't help was that I was also watching the
Ken Burns doc "The War" on PBS: not the best choice
for someone already feeling low. But I have a keen
interest in WWII, I couldn't stop watching it. I am
determined to see the entire thing, especially after
seeing how deftly he handled the issue of black americans
in the military and the Jim Crow laws, etc. So I will
plan on watching more when I'm in a less tearful place.

Finally, I have another sort of stress: the stress of
the absolutely overwhelming yearning I have for a
certain man who lives on another continent.
*SIGH*
This is not a bad thing, of course: but this kind of
yearning can feel never-ending. Again, my body is
telling me things. And I can't do anything about this
one... not just yet anyway.

So, in the meantime, I plan to do the following:
*stop worrying/obsessing! easier said than done,
but will give it a shot.
*Sleep more
*Eat better, take vitamins, etc.

And as far as the yearning goes... well looks
like that one I'll just have to deal with, for a
little bit longer.