i hate self-portraits

i have to do a self-portrait for my drawing class. it's the final project of the semester, and it almost makes me wish i'd never taken this class. ....except that now i know that no matter how much i protest and deny any artistic talent, there must be some, because i keep getting A's (and two A-'s).

right now we're drawing a live model in class, and i think it's going better than when i tried to draw DE, though that could just be because i know this girl's face less well.

but this weekend i have to start working on my self-portrait.

do you know how much i don't want to stare at myself in the mirror for hours upon end? SO MUCH.
you have to notice everything when you're drawing someone's face, every line, every proportion, every asymmetrical quirk - and me, i already think my face is crooked. i think that either my eyes look properly aligned or my nose and mouth do, but not both at the same time. the bottom of my nose is definitely crooked and my right eye is smaller than my left. and my nose is fucking huge.

how am i supposed to do a self-portrait when i look tired? i always look tired, that's because i'm always tired. i'm really tired right now. i'm counting the hours until bed.

and how will i be able to continue my self-portrait once i have the breakdown i will inevitably have? my eyes will get all small and red and my face will get all puffy. we can't draw from a picture, we have to draw in a mirror.


and to top it all off, i did a fucking stupid thing yesterday.
i weighed myself.
i almost screamed at my scale. i threw on clothes and texted DE frantically, explaining what i'd done and how i was freaking out. i sounded like a crazy person, i skipped all punctuation. he came right over and tried to comfort me; i wanted to cut so badly. i probably would have if he wasn't there.

i won't tell you the number, i don't want to admit the number, it's horrifying. i never want to see that number ever again in my life, or maybe not until i'm middle-aged. then it might be okay.
i just don't understand how he says i'm pretty, how he wants to touch me, how he can look at me and not vomit.

he says, "maybe it's not something you need to understand, maybe you can just accept it."
but i can't, i can't just accept it. i need to understand it. i can't blindly accept something that conflicts with everything i know to be true in the universe.

after that i had almost nothing to eat all day.
today we made a run to the supermarket, and i always binge after that, so today's super gross. but all the tasty will be gone.


and i hate that i'm going to have to draw my face when it's this FUCKING FAT AAAAAAHHH.

FUCK.
MY.
LIFE.

this even makes me want to reconsider my major.
it'll definitely be psychology, and i'm strongly considering adding a double major with art if i have enough time, but right now i never want to do art again.
fuck my life, fuck my fat face.