1:46 am, Sunday, November 16

At this late early hour, I feel anxious, desperate, discouraged, sad and restless. Only moments ago I was "resting" in my bed, but felt strongly compelled to begin writing the cathartic letter about the experiences that have led me to this place. I have to write this letter not only because VW has assigned it to me, but because I hope it's a key to my healing. My feelings of stress are due to my desire for this to be what it needs to be for me to feel purged. I want to be completely vulnerable and honest - naked and raw for the sake of reclaiming my life.

I need this now because each day I think more and more about death. Not as an action, but as an answer. I feel that my life is over. I have no hope, no vision, no sense of purpose, no joy and I believe that the only thing that resolves this is to die. I don't have thoughts of hurting myself, but I do think about tossing up my hands and taking to my bed until I expire.

This is my forum, my venue, my soapbox, my podium and it is the logical tool for capturing my thoughts. Why? I do hope that someone who finds themselves facing some of the blackest darkness they thought they'd ever witness finds my missives and feels some comfort and companionship. I want to free myself to experience a richer, more satisfying, and happier life. My apologies to those who find my comments too raw, too vulnerable, or too painful. I'm simply using a tool that I think is conducive for exorcising some of the demons that have lived with me for too long.

It sounds silly, but the negative thoughts that I hold about myself have a lot to do with how I was treated by family, adults, and classmates because of my weight. I don't want to, nor could I recall each and every event of teasing or cruelty, but I don't think it's necessary. Suffice it to say that teachers, aunts, uncles, cousins, peers, medical professionals, sales clerks, and strangers, all felt that I was fair game for ugly and hurtful comments. Everyone is teased, but I needed a protector. I needed someone to tell me that in spite of the teasing that I was okay. I didn't get it and I didn't know how to provide it for myself and as a result I bought into it. I began to feel ugly, stupid, unimportant, worthless, and less than human.

This got worse for me in high school when it was compounded with questions about my intelligence and value as a person of color. My memory isn't that this period was filled with a barrage of attacks, but what was lobed at me was impactful, to say the least. I didn't have a a filter through which to pass the information I was getting. I didn't have an adult around me to tell me that I was good, that I was valuable regardless of my weight, race, address, or socioeconomic background. I remember being told that I wasn't as smart as I thought I was, being questioned about getting a good grade, that I could go to any college I wanted simply because I was black. I remember going into hiding because I felt that I wasn't good enough and if I could just stay in the background maybe no one would notice and grant me permission to be on the planet in spite of the fact that I sucked.

There's a part of me (VM likes to call her "Kick Ass Bridgett") that knows all that was totally fucked up and that no one had a right to say those things to me or to treat me that way. She's my protector, nurse, manager, and coach. She wasn't able to help me through all this because she didn't have the tools or maturity. Her response was to go underground to nurture herself and exercise her proverbial muscles. That left me to fend for myself. I did a lousy job.

I don't know why this has had such a hold over me for the last two decades. I see more clearly than I ever have that I have denied myself LIFE because I allowed the people from my past to rob me of my creativity, curiosity, intellectual development, peace, love, sexual identity, financial and material security, adventurousness, and confidence. I have been waiting on "them" to tell me I'm okay and worthy of a good life and to give me permission to pursue my dreams and hopes. I'm still that girl looking for a protector and waiting to hear that in spite of my weight and race that I'm okay, that I'm smart, that I have something to contribute, that I'm worthy of love and companionship and that it's okay to step fully, unapologetically into life and live it the way I want to.

I'm so angry and hurt right now. I've been walking the earth like a wounded animal waiting on someone to pat me on the head and say "okay, you can seek the medical attention you need" and I never hear it because I'M the person who has to do it. I know this, but I just don't know how to give myself permission and to move forward in my life. I am so disconnected at this point from the desires of my heart that I don't know how to access or realize them. I feel lost and overwhelmed. I have wasted so much time. I am so sorry for that.

I work so hard every day, every month, every year to keep my anger at bay. I try not to take up space in the world and not to offend anyone. I, to this day, apologize for being overweight and even undergo physical treatments like eyebrow arches not because I enjoy them, but because I want to make myself more acceptable to other people. I've grown weary and tired and I can't keep it up anymore. I'm walking on eggshells and hiding in plain view. I want and need something different if I am to remain on the planet.

My anger also makes me want to act out. Kick Ass Bridgett is tired of the bullshit and wants to take on a more active role in my life. She's ready to burn some shit down. I want to set Jane ablaze while screaming, "Fuck you, wide-ass bitch whore! Who the fuck do you think you are to question my intelligence?"

I want to set ablaze all the teachers, doctors, sales clerks, and dietitians who didn't give me quality medical care or service because of my weight while screaming, "Fuck you incompetent motherfuckers! You have no right to say whatever the fuck you want just because you perceive yourself as being in a position of power."

I want to set ablaze LK while screaming, "The only reason you're anywhere is because you suck RT's dick and he moved you along for giving good head. It is not because you're capable, punk ass bitch."

I want to burn down Marian HS for the irresponsible and insensitive treatment of students by its teachers and administrators.

I want to bitch slap "Wimpy Bridgett" for denying me a life filled with knowledge, mastery, love, adventures, sex, money, passion, creativity and joy by buying into the negative and unsubstantiated messages I received throughout my life.

I think of this blog in its entirety as a cathartic letter. I suppose it's an organic process and one that doesn't have a visible end point at this time. Kick Ass Bridgett wants to survive. She wants a quality and exciting life and will continue to be proactive about her healing and well-being. I continue to tell myself that all is as it should be and that I'll emerge from this dark place. It's work, though, and sometimes I just don't feel up to it.