4. So project become a Instagram model was off to a running start. Initially I got a lot of attention. Manic housebound me spent weeks all day every day taking suggestive pictures barely clothed. I took thousands of pictures a day. Id put on an outfit take a million photos in different parts of the house, then change outfits and do it all over again. I was obsessed. I lived in a derelict house at the time and on house arrest was limited for location options. My house had holes in the floor, it was rotting, mould everywhere and rats that constantly appeared to just die in the hallway. I had dirty dishes pilled up on the benches there was no space to make meals so I hid the dishes in cupboards, our kitchen was full of cockroaches! Plants were growing from the slim build up in the shower and my backyard was like a jungle! I desperately. I did my best to look sexy and mimic the other girls in that niche. But I would never have the mansion back drop or the fancy clothes and shoes. But I realised it was necessary for this endeavour! I got so obsessed with mimicking them I painted my room white, bought new lights, painted my bed, cleared just one corner of my room. It was a photo nook that gave the illusion I needed but had you all been able to see behind the camera you would have been horrified by the scene!
I started to get depressed by the falsehood of my instagram life. Every time I looked up from my phone and my pictures I was reminded at how fake that life was. I was hit with the he contrast of that one and my reality that it started to feel like a giant cavern was opening up under my feet. I was about to be swallowed in it. I was fearful of the day I could no longer keep up the illusion. I drove myself crazy trying to keep it! No one would love me if they knew the truth. No one wanted to see the ugly truth.
Please continue to next post on my profile for part 5
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