TRIGGERWARNING (The Less Intense Version)

CHAPTER THREE MAYA

7:13am

Another day, another chance to workout. That’s how I got up every day, but I never managed to build up the energy to workout. I forced myself to get up and dressed. I took the first look in the mirror, and the first look made pure disgust crawl up my spine. Why did the universe pick me to be the fat one, that’s my most asked question? I needed to get dressed for school, as always, I put on my oversized T-Shirt and my usual pants. But for the pants I had to do the sitting test, another fat people problem. I sat down for about ten minutes to see if the pants gave me a stomach-ache or not, if they didn’t, I could wear them. After the torture of getting dressed, I went downstairs to “eat” breakfast, aka eating half a bread and acting as if I had to catch the bus. Actually, I just ran to the bus station and waited for ten minutes, then it was finally there. Luckily, I only had to drive three stops until I reached the school. My first period would start in a few minutes, so I ran to class as fast as possible. All of my periods were boring, except for chemistry because I was checking out a guy there. His name was Kyle, he was the most famous football player of the class. But sadly, he was dating the mean girl, Avery, she kept bullying me for my appearance. How much I hated that filthy little bitch she hated everyone who didn’t fit her standards. Avery was the typical perfect girl, but since her mom is pregnant with her sister she is acting like a queen. I decided to forget about Avery because this just made the day even worse. After chemistry I had a free period in which I hung out with my friends. They were planning another party and of course I had to be there as well. Even though I didn’t even like parties, I actually really hated them, but I had to come with them every time. They forced me to drink there and then left me, I wanted to leave them so badly. But they were my only friends, I had no one except them so I had to stay with the two.  My last class was French with Miss Winkler-Ebner, she was fine if she didn’t to a test almost every week. As the bell rang I stormed out of class and outside, my dad would pick me up today. As always on a Tuesday, I´d stay with him for the day and then go back to mom. Having divorced parents is a struggle every day again, I sometimes ask how they even fell in love. But for that question, there will never be an answer found. At my dads place I had my favourite food, it was spaghetti with tomato sauce and meatballs. I had a few bites and then excused myself, I went up to my room and got on the phone, at least for four hours. I scrolled through Instagram and watched some of the fitness models, maybe I would get a few tips on how to loose the weight quickly for summer. It was hard to look at all the girls with those perfect bodies, but I scrolled and scrolled until I almost felt sick. My dad then called me downstairs, I could here in his voice that he was angry. Suddenly I knew why, I had failed my history test. My dad was talking for an eternity until I convinced him that I would do better next time. It was to late to actually start studying so I just watched some Netflix, I watched my favourite show “Insatiable” it was amazing. The evening was pretty chill, but I got tired so quickly that I couldn’t even finish a full episode. So I went to bed way earlier than I usually would. But then I remembered I hadn’t done my workout jet. I almost fell out of bed as I stood up, my workout mat was under the bed and I started doing a thirty minute workout from Pamela Reif. Afterwards I almost passed out because I was so tired and needed nutrition, but we do everything for weight loss. I didn’t care, so I laid down knowing that I was good today.

Again strong nerves only: My head hurt and I remembered the spaghetti I ate today, as soon as I had calculated the calories I ran to the toilet. I thought what I did was right, but turns out I cared about my weight more than about my health. Why do I have to fit in todays standards, these high unreachable standards. I hate my life.