I can't think of a good title for some reason.

I think confidence must be confused in my head with arrogance. Confidence is a fault. Whenever someone tells me something I've done is good, I uncomfortably shrug it off, or occasionally tell them outright that they're wrong. What gives me the right? And furthermore, why do I even do this in the first place? One of my sculptures from high school not only won a Gold Key (statewide) in the Scholastic Art Awards, but also a Gold Medal on the national scale. According to the letters they keep sending me, that means that it is one of the best things they've seen from the entire country's high school artists. And all I can think about when I look at it now is Man, this looks like shit, it could be so much better. (I am probably not going to the awards ceremony in June because of this. How dumb is that?)

This is a good thing and a horribly fucking bad thing. Because I cannot for the life of me take a goddamned compliment. Whenever dude says something good about something I did and I don't disagree with him, he says 'Hey, you're getting better, you didn't put yourself down!'

I wonder why I do this. It's not like I haven't had enough support in life, or anything. My art isn't great, but it's also not horrible. I'm getting better.

You may be tired of hearing this by now, but..why don't I like myself?

...

So.

My mom's been talking to me about losing weight for a while now.

I keep trying to avoid this subject.

..I joined Weight Watchers today.

This makes me feel self-conscious. This ties into the me-never-wanting-to-ask-for-help thing that seems to happen a lot in my life. But I will try it.

Apparently I've only eaten half of what I'm allowed to today. This has gotten off on a weird start.

But here is a secret that I've never wanted to say out loud because I am ashamed. (I am telling you because I swore I would not keep secrets from this blog. Even if what I say is something that makes me want to beat myself up.)

All through high school, when I would get upset at myself, I would cram as much as I could into my mouth and then throw it up immediately. I think it was like some kind of bizarre punishment ritual. I didn't actually want to eat that shit. I gave myself a stomachache and then got rid of it. It was some sick kind of soul-purge. Sometimes I would cry a little, more because it was painful and disgusting than because of anything else. Then I would tell myself off in my head, and continue about my business. I only overate when I was angry with myself, and then it would all come back out. Whenever I was content, I would not eat very much. As seen today; I am allotted thirty-one points a day, and have used fourteen.

There. I think that was perhaps my worst secret. It makes me so fucking angry with myself, that I could dislike myself so much as to do something that stupid to punish myself. I mean, I knew it was dumb and pointless even as I was doing it. But I did it anyways.

Right now I'm sitting in front of my computer kind of awed that I actually decided to write this in my blog. Nobody knows this. I haven't even been able to admit it to myself, because I hate it. Now..it's on the internet. Make with it what you will, World.

...

Goals:
Lose weight.
Gain self-esteem.

Good night.

Olivia

PS. I sat in front of the finished post for a good five minutes, at least, contemplating whether or not to delete the whole thing and write something cheerful about how I started working on demo videos for my parents' company today, and maybe whine that I'm going to the dentist tomorrow and they're doing things to three of my teeth, so my face will be numb tomorrow afternoon, but..I couldn't do that. Because I need to start being honest with myself, and with you.