Her Broken Mind...

chapter 1

It's been 3 years since my nan made her comment "You know you'd be my prettiest granddaughter, if you just lost the weight" for 3 years I have felt ugly no matter how much I try to look good, no matter how many people tell me I'm beautiful, no matter how many people pursue me. Words are like knives they stab you, but whilst you may not bleed, they still wound you to the very depths of your soul...

Now here I am 3 years later... 3 stone lighter and I felt pride in myself, right up until my nan said her latest comment " that's good but keep it up you've still got loads to go" I came home that day and I looked at the scales and then the exercise bike with the damp towel still left from this morning. It wasn't enough. I rushed to the toilet, sick to my stomach. I threw my guts up. Tears streamed down my face. It was never enough. I was never enough. Now, looking at myself, I could never see anything but this ugly fat blob. This pathetic excuse for a woman. All I wanted was to be beautiful. To match my own personality, that was evident to anyone that ever met me and be seen as not just beautiful on the inside.

I was never a skinny girl, but I never had felt ugly until that point. I had asked my boyfriend at the time what he thought of how I looked, and he had starred me dead in the eyes as he told me that he thought I was beautiful... he told me that my eyes were his favourite part about me the changing colours aside he said when my smile reached them they lit up like a kid on Christmas and when I was being cheeky they glinted with mischief. He said my hair was soft and beautiful that my smile was stunning and my body was perfect to him whilst big I had curves in the right places as he gently spanked my bottom and then his voice went deeper as he told me that my legs were sexy and that he wished I was more confident to show them off as he tore my leggings off. But despite his carnal desire for me, my nans comments still played over and over in my mind. I burst into tears and ran as I locked myself in the bathroom. Driving me to feel that I couldn't even look myself in the mirror because all I could see was the fat face staring back at me, the triple chin I had never seen before looking in the mirror. The bingo wings on my arms. The stretch marks on my breast and belly and inner thighs. The overhang of my stomach I felt disgusted with myself. I felt so disgusting I couldn't bare to have my boyfriend look at me naked, my insecurities broke down our relationship and we ended up separating because I couldn't accept the way he saw me vrs the image my own flesh and blood had put in my head.

These are the thoughts that raced through my head as I emptied the contents of my huge guts into the toilet bowl. For weeks, her comments played over and over in my mind every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror it was as though I was still my original size, and nothing had changed. Everytime I saw my nan she checked if I was still on my diet and I told her yes and each time she said "good keep it up and you'll be able to see the difference soon enough" and after each visit with her I would purge myself needing the release like an alcoholic would need a drink.

Weeks passed, then months and I was too frightened to stand on those scales again I couldn't see any difference, I couldn't see if the diet and the exercise and the purging was making any difference what so ever. It took me 3 years to lose 3 stone, but I couldn't wait another 5 years to reach my goal. I had an intense desire I couldn't control. My purging became a daily occurance I was on slim fast for breakfast and lunch but I couldn't keep it up, just having it for all my meals so I had to eat dinner but the second I was finished eating I couldn't stop myself from the shame I felt at eating so I would purge. No matter what I tried, I couldn't see any changes. I still felt fat and ugly. I had comments from my daughter's teachers about how much weight I had lost, but I told them in my usual bluntness that I couldn't personally see it, so it can't be that much. Over a year had passed, and there was no difference.

Everything for me was just tunnelled in vision. No matter the comments or compliments, I couldn't hear them because my nans words spoke above all of them. I was never all that sociable previously, but now I was becoming withdrawn. Unable to let anyone close.

Time seemed to move increasingly slower, and I still couldn't see any progress. I became depressed. My own daughter was just as bad as my nan when she saw me on the bike. Only a 6 year old child can be so brutally honest when she told me to go faster because she didn't want a fat mummy. I never let her see just how hurt I was, but I felt tears overwhelm my senses as I fought to hold them back and keep control.

I tightened my grip on the bike, pushing myself harder, and in the evenings after food, I always purged myself, hoping that I would soon start to see something change but to no avail. In my mind, I was desperate to see something, anything, but I just couldn't. Weeks passed then months, and I grew frustrated with myself. My once long soft hair had turned brittle and started falling out. Even though my teeth had started to go bad for the first time in my life, I got a cavity. It's like the harder I tried the uglier I got. The harder I tried, the more I fell apart. I went to the doctor for help after I had lost the three stone when my nan made her comment, and they offered me a gastric band just looking at me. I must have looked monsterous to them for them to offer it, but I didn't want surgery. Deflated, I left in tears. And looking back to that moment crushed me. Would i ever be able to lose this weight that held me down? I was never going to be beautiful. I was never going to lose weight. I looked at the best ways to lose weight online frantically, googling everything and trying each new method. Then, after a year and a half had passed, and I could still see nothing but this troll of a woman, i was disgusting. Hopeless distraught is all I felt. Knowing I had already tried all of these, I looked at what forms of exercise burned the most calories. Knowing I was already riding my push bike everywhere and exercising bike and swimming and walking every day. I looked at alternative options, and one popped up, and my face flushed red. I thought to myself I couldn't possibly do that! I can't bear to be seen naked by myself, let alone another, and that's even if I could convince someone to willingly do that with me. But as my frustrations grew after another year and nothing seemed to work, the idea became more appealing. I thought to myself that if this works, then it's worth the humiliation.. It's worth it to finally become beautiful. After 3 months , I found outfits that were elasticated and would fit anyone no matter how big or small. One size fits all. Yet I felt constrained wearing them.

And so my last chance presented itself to me as I signed up and tapped that go live button on meet me. Hundreds of people joined my stream, but I couldn't let them see my desperation because I knew that men like a challenge more than anything. In school, I did drama, so I knew how to act pretty well, and I was no longer Cassie the fat waste of space that was desperate to lose weight. I was now Jez. The b***h you had to impress to get the best.

Dressed in a low cut black top paired with a well supporting bra, high waisted jeggings that held in my bulging stomach and my hair platted to the side elsa style and smoky eye makeup I was dressed in character and ready to go on a mission. It was go time. As I typed the title to my stream and added the final touch of Jez. I counted. One. Two. Three. Deep breath. Go live. It was show time. As each new man joined multiple men vying for her attention apparent for anyone to see, the music played and her hips swayed rhythmically to the beat. Jez was witty she laughed alot and enjoyed banter making jokes with the guys. She appeared as a challenge for them to conquer. They would be brazen to get her to simply acknowledge them. Jez was easy going chilled and savage her attitude had got their attention and made them practically dance for a piece of her attention. She was so confident that she had them all completely enthalled they all wanted to know her, to see her, to meet her. I wished men would act like this for me. She got them being so bold as to litterally share their numbers in the chat. I felt jealous. And with each new number became a new possibility to exercise. As her first live ended I looked at the list of names and numbers she had noted down. Her choices. Not everyone made the cut it seemed. And I was grateful that jez had the confidence I lacked. I felt myself spiralling, hating that I had stooped this low and had no self respect anymore. But now I was going to f**k myself skinny. I had to because I couldn't be like this anymore it was killing me just to see others snicker at me as I waddled past. I was going to do this even if it killed me.