The worst enemy
When I was a teenager I, like so many of others, suffered from a low self-esteem, and my shyness did not help to improve matters at all. I was never that girl in the center of everyone’s attention, but rather the one just too often regarded as fatso, though looking back I’d say I was never one – I wasn’t a wisp of a girl, but I could have done to be a reed of a girl. Anyway, with time I’ve grown myself a thicker skin, made some really good friends, and trained myself to, if even by quite conscious efforts, to be more easy going with strangers. I constantly had and sometimes still have to remind myself to step up, to speak for myself, to take charge, and not to go into my inner shell when ‘under fire’. But there was a time when I failed and almost went under water without me even realizing I was drowning. At that particular time in my life due high stress levels at work (I really tried to bite too much just for a ghostly perspective of making some career, duh), combined with some serious and piling up problems at home and in my personal life made me lose control at some point, and I’ve become what I was so often called, and what I so much feared at the time – a fatso. Denial, anger with myself and with the whole world did not help, but spiraled me even more down that way, until I stopped caring myself. It took me one lost job (not through my fault or anything), a rather long time of unemployment, and too much time to kill, that made me finally look at myself for real and accept the truth – I was no more in control of my own life.
It’s hard to be ostracized or feel excluded by others, but it’s even worse when you make it to yourself all by yourself. My own worst enemy is me, and only knowing the enemy I can stand up to it.