The hot Australian summers are starting. The ground outside can’t be walked on, everyone is running around in skimpy dresses or shorts, enjoying the beach, while I’m here with ulcers developing in between my thighs from them rubbing together. I can’t wear anything light because everything looks horrible. My dad’s friend asked him after I had left why I was wearing a big, black hoodie in 37 degree heat. I am so sick of living like this. Of hiding away. Surgery is Feb 18, so I hope this is my last fat Christmas.
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