While I was a patient of NJ I gained about twenty pounds of fat. The medication that binds us like mummy's wrapped in invisible cloth causes weight gain. That and a lack of physical activity left me heavy with flab. I most likely would have cried over it had I access to a full length mirror. I had not seen a reflection of anything below my shoulders in a long time, and what I could see was blurry as the mirrors were not glass but rather metal. It wasn't bad enough that my mind warped my image, but did the mirrors have to betray me too?
There was a young woman who worked there that attempted to have a womens group. She thought it would be nice if we supported each other and did something other than sit and watch mice.
She was nice, but she was pretty. I was pretty, now my skin looked like paper machete and my eyes had lost their spark.
I did not want to look at her perfect hair or bright smile. I hated her for her stylish outfits and petite figure. I hated the way she smiled when talking with the Staff.I hated her bouncy walk that spoke of her happiness. I hated her expensive perfume too. How dare she flaunt her aroma around me when all I have for smell is the pissy clothes of the girl next to me. Couldn't she see that looking at her face, her cover girl face, made me feel sick and disgusted about myself?
I went to her group. She had scraps of old makeup that I knew was not from her collection. Lipsticks the color of darkened blood and eye shadows of the brightest blue lay before me. Foundation and powders of the strangest shades joined them. I looked from her to the table and almost screamed as I left the room. Can't she see the knife she twists into my heart?
When I knew she had gone I went to see how everyone looked. I did not know if I should laugh or cry when all I saw were a bunch of crazy clowns.