I know a lot of people usually try to start these things out with something meaningful to grab everybody’s attention. And I suppose that’s the way it should start out. Your first entry should scream, “Read me! Read me!”
But I’m going to start mine with a bit of a warning; this first entry is going to be quite long, and for that I apologize. However, I feel it necessary to let you guys get to know me a bit.
My name is Kim. This is not my full name of course, but close enough. I am currently 23 and my sister, who attends college nearby, lives with me. When I was attending high-school my mother always told me that it was her job to encourage me to graduate, but that whatever I wanted to do after I finished high-school was up to me. After I graduated in 2010 I immediately began looking for a job, and a few months later had landed a job in Manufacturing.
It really is quite mind-numbing work, but I work for an ARC, and I work with the mentally disabled, and they’re enough to make my entire day. We teach them new skills on a daily basis and encourage them to try and better themselves both vocationally and personally. I love where I work. Of course some days are worse than others and it’s hard to keep that in mind, but I try. I have worked there for five years now. It is the first job I have ever had, and have no intentions of leaving anytime soon. I am not the best at what I do, as I said before, I have my days. And when it comes to dealing with people I know I have to work on my patience, but I have enough pride in myself to say I am a whiz at assembly. It usually takes me a while to learn something new, but once I know what I am doing, I know it like the back of my hand.
Seven months after first gaining meaningful employment and saving up enough money, I put payment down on my first apartment and moved in with my boyfriend at the time. It seemed like a good idea at the time… but then again we’ve all been there, and that is one subject that will have to have its own entry sometime.
Anyways, I am doing alright considering the year I’ve had. My current boyfriend I love very much, and have a comfortable living arrangement with my sister, who six months ago had been living with my mother whilst attending college. She was a single mother of two girls, who had married a giant mistake in her younger years, and lived to regret it for the rest of her life. None the less, she put herself through school with the help of our Grandmother and over the next years put food on the table so we could live semi-normal lives. She was the kind of person who would go out of her way for just about anybody, up until about six months ago.
I am going to reiterate the fact that I am telling you these things because I want you all to know me, not because I want sympathy, so please just… don’t.
I will however say that when tragedy strikes, it is never when you expect it to. It can happen on any mundane day. And suddenly, that one boring day can end in a way that will make you remember that day for the rest of your life. I went to work as per normal, and had made plans to hang out at their house after work. I let myself in the front door and yelled to them that I was there, and my sister called out from my mother’s bedroom. She’d already called 911, and I had to perform CPR on my own mother, look down into her eyes, taste the spittle that dribbled from her mouth as her mouth gasped for air as we waited for the ambulance to arrive. I don’t know how many times I screamed for her to wake up as I performed the compressions. Or how many times I’ve dreamt of that day since it happened.
At 42 years old my mother died from a collapsed heart as the paramedics cracked jokes about getting her on the gurney because of her size. For this reason, the health system will never have my full trust ever again.
Again, I am not telling you these things for sympathy. I have endured enough sympathy over the last months to last a lifetime. It’s just that… having only happened six months ago… I feel the need to put it out there, so you all understand my motivations for this Diary.
I’ve tried to count the number of times I’ve googled ‘Weight Loss Support’, ‘Tips to Quit Smoking’, and ‘Life Organizer’, and found absolute rubbish over the last year.
I am a smoker of two years now, and I weight 248 pounds. At 23 years old. Never having had any kids, I have stretch-marks on my belly, on my flabby underarms, and the backs of my knees. I hate my body, and because of the smoking when I get to coughing, I get to the point of heaving up heavy green mucus. It’s disgusting.
My hope is that I will find some sort of support on here. I feel as though I have no strength. I am ashamed to get out and try walking, feeling like I am being judged by the others that are out. The first time I tried to quit smoking I lasted a week, and each time I’ve tried since then its gotten harder…
I just want to maybe reach somebody who is maybe struggling as well.