While taking a bath today i realized something. There is where i think deeply about life. That stupid piece of porcelain has seen more of me then anyone. In that bath tub i cut myself for the first time, that bath tub caught and washed away the first drop of blood i ever made come from myself. Its where i attempted to drown myself, something no one really knows about. Its where i have sat to drunk to function crying. Ive slept in that tub. Ive cried in that tub. Ive thought about everything and just sat in there feeling the cold while no one was home. Ive gotten high in that tub. Ive came down from my first trip on mdma in that tub. Ive puked my guts out in there. Really its seen shit from me. The first drop of blood that started an addiction and a problem of suicide within me. And i wish i knew how i got there, i mean, i was dealing with more than any grade 8 kid should. But i really would like to know what pushed me there. What possessed me to think that all of that would fix me. At that time in my life a lot of people hated me because i didn’t care about anyone or anything, and i mean i don’t blame them. I pushed them away, i was failing school, which is kind of hard to do when you’re in grade 8. I smoked cigarettes, i drank far to often. I got high. It seemed normal to me. It seemed normal that i felt like i was bullied i suppose in my own house. I thought it was all fine. Until i had no one anymore. Until i realized i was a child. Not even in high school acting far beyond my years. Becoming addicted to drinking. Its really all ridiculous. That summer i found myself cutting here and there whenever i got shot down into that numb sense of depression where all i craved was to feel pain. To be dead. So i could be anywhere but where i was. I fucked with guys heads so i could feel better about myself. I broke hearts because someone broke mine for the first time. I was a monster. But then i entered high school. I realized what i had become. I found what i thought at the time was love. Though the thought was foolish. And i changed. I stopped hurting myself because i found this sense of happiness. But as quickly as that came it left.
“Have you seen most of the plus-size sections out there? It’s horrifying. Whoever’s designing for plus-size doesn’t get it. The entire garment needs to be reconceived. You can’t just take a size 8 and make it larger. In my travels, I’ve been an advocate for larger women. I’ve been talking to designers, but only a half-dozen make an effort. Most say, ‘I don’t want a woman who’s a size 10 or 11 wearing my clothes.’ Well, shame on you! It’s not realistic. We need to address real women with real needs.”—