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I used to be 35% Body fat, 5’9, 250 pounds. I was also severely depressed to the point where even my own mom wanted to give up on me. I didn’t have any friends, I sat alone at lunch and would hear people making fun of me. I never talked to a girl and they would often call me ugly to my face. It was once so bad I got physically attacked by a girl and her friends because I was fat and ugly. Even my own dad would tell me in ugly and worthless. I would cry myself to sleep every night.
Flash forward a few years, i’m 18% body fat, 6’2, 160 pounds. Do you think my life is any different? No. Despite how hard I worked im still a subhuman and will likely die alone. I genuinely hate my life and there’s no foreseeable future or escape. Everything I do, every action, every word I speak, is all minimized and worthless because of my face. I’m a useless human being all because of my genetics and like I said I’ll die alone. I’ll never know what it feels like to have a girlfriend. I’ll never know what it feels like to have a true friend. When I die, no one will visit my funeral. No one will know I died other than the charity that inherited my will. I’ll never know what it feels like to have a girl tell me she loves me.
So why do I just keep getting up and going and going? I don’t know, I’m not sure why I haven’t gave up yet. I never will, but regardless of how hard I try or how much I tell myself it gets better; I know it’s a cope because of my subhuman genetics.
If you ever think you have it bad, don’t be ungrateful because you could be me.
Flash forward a few years, i’m 18% body fat, 6’2, 160 pounds. Do you think my life is any different? No. Despite how hard I worked im still a subhuman and will likely die alone. I genuinely hate my life and there’s no foreseeable future or escape. Everything I do, every action, every word I speak, is all minimized and worthless because of my face. I’m a useless human being all because of my genetics and like I said I’ll die alone. I’ll never know what it feels like to have a girlfriend. I’ll never know what it feels like to have a true friend. When I die, no one will visit my funeral. No one will know I died other than the charity that inherited my will. I’ll never know what it feels like to have a girl tell me she loves me.
So why do I just keep getting up and going and going? I don’t know, I’m not sure why I haven’t gave up yet. I never will, but regardless of how hard I try or how much I tell myself it gets better; I know it’s a cope because of my subhuman genetics.
If you ever think you have it bad, don’t be ungrateful because you could be me.
