The Audacity of Me

"The audacity of me."

This phrase has been on repeat in my mind for a number of months now. The audacity of me to think there's value in my story. In my life. In me I guess. I'm as lost as I've ever been, but at least feel more grounded than normal...so I'll continue typing. People are incredibly inspiring to me. The things we're capabale of withstanding and can still find a way to succeed is literal magic to me. I can never seem to quiet the thoughts that come quickly after inpsiration and admiration. Jealousy, self-pity, shame, anger, saddness. Will I ever reach my success story?

I was a fat kid for all of my youth. The only thing I was more of than fat, seemed to be a level of self-awareness unfair for a child. I rembmer having my first panic attack about how I would die some day at about five years old. It felt like there was no point to life (and still does today if I'm being honest) if I'm just going to die anyway. Maybe that's where the weight really packed on..and packed in. Such a heavy burden to carry.

The story I was told about me to me, was that I was always so "happy-go-lucky". Great, I'm a cliche. The jolly, jovial fat kid. The truth is I was angry, lonely, and scared, and their approval and laughter helped to soothe that a bit I think. So I kept doing it. I would do anything to distract from the fact that I was overweight. Hide in plain sight.

Things really started to feel depserate when my family moved from a mostly minority community to a predominantly white area at around age 10. All they wanted was a better life for us, but there was some collateral damage. If I were to guess, I was somewhere in the 200 pounds around that age. I went through puberty early, so my voice was already low. I had body hair and a mustache already. So now I'm overweight, taller than most kids at this point, hairy, sound like full ass grown man, and my skin was different. The panic attacks started again.

No one in my family knew anything about emotions and how to handle them. They grew up in poverty as children themselves in Mexico. All we've known is survival. Who has the time to think about anything at all? I internalized everything. This is when I really started to act out, in my own way. I eventually met some friends who opened my mind to the possibility of a whole new way of thinking and being. I used this to try and express myself, and simulatneously hide my true Self. I had spiky hair, wide legged jeans, wore alternative jewelry, and the craziest looking band t-shirts. Metal music was like striking gold for me. I couldn't express the rage I felt, and this seemed to satisfy that in a way I never felt before. But this just drew more attention, and as much as I was dying to be seen, I hated attention. This came from experiences I had with my mom all the time. I think she felt people judged her as a parent when we'd be out together. I never noticed anyone staring or looking, but to her, that's all people did (and do). She would try to embarrass them by yelling out, "Look Daniel! They're starring! They're starring!" I know she was trying to protect me, but already feeling like a monster, this just made me feel like a sideshow fucking freak.

In turn, I pushed anyone away who gave me attention, especially attention that made me "feel" like people were "trying to change me". I was a bright kid. I always got good grades easily, and when teachers gave me attention cause they saw my potential, I would panic. I would make jokes, be silly, be mean...just rebel, but only in small ways cause I was always afraid of consequences. I could never be more than what I was. I'm just a fat kid. And that's all I'll ever be. How dare they think I could be more!

As I mentioned before, I did anything to hide the fact that I felt more like an actual monster than a human for so long. I even tried to walk "softly" so I wouldn't stomp. I was always aware of my body and tried to make it as small as possible, to try and physically take up less space. I was overly nice and helpful. Always tried to make sure everyone else around me was laughing and happy. I was the go-to for advice and for everyone's problems. I guess I just wanted to be around those feelings, cause I rarely ever felt them. And wow, if I could be ony be the one to make them happy, maybe I did have a purpose in life. But I still didn't know who I was, other than who I was told I was.

I started to feel less and less seen in high school. When all of my friends would get the girls, I was always just the friend. It's a responsibility I didn't fully live up to reflecting all this time later. I was selfish a lot. Being the friend, I was always hearing complaints about how shitty their boyfriends were and how unhappy they were. How they liked talking to me cause I made them feel good, but I was never enough to be more than that. Ouch. It always felt like rejections. "You're for the heart. He's for the libido." A friend once told me that, and it still feels true to this day. (I value that more now than I did back then.) For the sake of the story, I'll fast forward to graduating high school and finally losing weight.

I was 19 when I first started my weightloss venture. Man, I was so dilligent. So committed. So disciplined. It took me a year and a half to lose 120 pounds. I was 290 pounds when I graduated high school. This was supposed to be the thing that changed my life. I'd get fit. Start getting attention from the opposite sex. I'll finally be confident...

This was the most wrong I had ever been. While I finally got to experience the opposite sex more, I was way more self-conscious and more anxiety ridden that I had ever been. I was still that fat kid. My body was different, but it is riddled with evidence of who I was. And I was (am) ashamed of that. People started to treat me differently. Suddenly I felt valued, worthy, desired. What the fuck. I had no idea how to be this new person. I was able to hide behind my fatness for so long, now here I was for everyone to see. I felt like my life started over and I had to relearn how to act, how to receive certain attention. This was so conflicting because my ego was loving the attention, but it felt like it also validated how unworthy I was before. And that's where I've been stuck ever since. I struggle to let peoeple in cause I feel too damaged emotionally that doesn't reflect in my "story". My identity still feels tied to image, and who I used to be. I've tried hiding it, running away from it, never talking about it, and flat out trying to erase it from my memory. None of that worked. So I guess all that's left is to accept it. It's forever a part of who I am, and I may always feel like that fat kid. I guess the difference now is that I'm a little less afraid (only a little), and I want to do this for all the old version of myself who didn't feel like anyone.

I'm now 32 years old and am barely beginning to feel like I'm shedding the layers of that fat kid. 13 years of being in this body. I've punihsed it a lot along the way. I'm trying grace and forgiveness. Which often requires no physical action, but mental and emotional action. I'm still getting used to that. I always knew I struggled with anxiety and depression. I just never actually called it that. I didn't know anything about mental health. All I knew is that something was wrong, and different, about me. It wasn't until last year that I had an engagement (skipping over details again) crumble in front of my eyes, right at the beginning of a global pandemic. My entire world collapsed. It was the fist time I truly FELT the shock of reality. It felt like I was finally plopped down into my body after being in a coma, or some other universe, and left to figure it out again. It's been a year since I began my healing journey. It has been an intense process so far, and with no surprise it's met with lots of internal resistance. Imposter syndrome like a MF, but I keep going little by little.

The audacity of me...I'm no better than any of you. I don't want to be better than any of you. So many people have had it worse, and have made themselves into so much. (God how I'd love to feel successful) I just want to be more than what I ever felt I was, which I guess I'm doing pretty okay at since I truly felt like Nothing. I don't really know what my life will look like or end up being, and that part scares me the most. All I know is that I want to make peace with myself. Some day. Everything else is circumstance.

I've felt a pull to want to help people, but with no clue on how or where to begin. How can I help anyone? I have no idea what I'm even doing. What I do know is, the stigma that comes with mental health is so damaging. Even if I haven't had to overcome as much as others, anxiety and depression are real to me. And that stigma hurts and has had long-lasting effects. I'm much better at talking openly these days, so I guess I'll just keep practicing that. I'm terrified of sharing this...it's only a tiny part of me as a soul and being, but it's dicated my life for far too long.

Here's to stepping out of comfort zones. Speaking up. Even if I have nothing to say, it's helping to find a voice I never knew I had before. Please don't let made up, ficticious, antiquated societal norms hold you back from feeling like you're okay. There is nothing wrong with any of us. The system is what's broken. Reach out. Seek help. Find hope and hold on tight. Hope leads to love. And love is all anyone of us really want. Self love. Familial love. Plataonic love. Romantic love. Love of life. Even through all of the pain, shame, and guilt I've felt, I am a hopeless romantic and that hasn't changed.

Cheers to you. And our pursuit to Love.