I can easily recall a time when I was single. More than that, I can easily recall a time when I was twice the size I am now, smoked recklessly, and indulged in whatever struck my fancy. I remember these times and though often marred by anger and stress, these were never lonely, lacking confidence, anxiety riddled moments.

Fast forward to now: I am (relatively) thin, have a sensible, loving boyfriend, decent job, cute apartment, etc. and I am very unhappy. I only feel disgust when I look at myself in the mirror. Being around other people, even those I love, has become painful and agitating to me. If I could I would never leave my apartment. Everytime I do, I am convinced something will go terribly wrong and everyone will judge me.

What happened to the person that I used to be? All things considered, I used to be well adjusted, confident, personable, and even popular. I used to be, dare I say, content.

Maybe this malaise is a symptom of the toll taken on me through years of wild living and careless abuses of myself. Maybe self-doubt and scrutiny are merely a function of growing up. Maybe I've eaten too much sugar, or am just in a bad mood. Whatever it is, it's a feeling that I can't seem to shake. It's that feeling that you have when you know that something just isn't right.