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I’m Fat. Sooo… All I Care About is That I’m Not Fuckable?

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Remember that “comedian” chick that “made fun of” fat people recently? Yeah. So I was browsing Laci Green’s vids, cuz she’s my absolute fave, and was interested in her vid about jokes. I thought it was only gonna be about rape jokes. But she mentions fat jokes and talks about all offensive jokes as a whole. I was ecstatic.

I’m fat. Ever since puberty hit, I’ve been fat. So my fave youtuber ever made a response, though not directly, to all those fat shamers. I wrote a comment thanking her for making the vid. I mentioned that I was a fat woman. A couple days later, I see a response to my comment. It’s the comment you see in the screenshot above. If you don’t remember what he said, please take a second to re-read it.

There are so many reasons this asshole is an idiot. First of all, he assumes that my problem with my weight (if I had one, hows he to know?) is solely the fact that men don’t find me attractive. Before my bf came around, that was only a small part of the problem. Very small. Like, before I met LR, I figured guys who judged me on my weight were at a loss. Cuz I already knew I’d be a great partner.

My problem is SOCIETY. Every person, male or female, who fat shames. Because those fat shamers don’t help with my own struggle to love my fat body. They shame other people for being different and “disgusting.” They don’t know the fat person’s story. What’s going on in his/her life. What’s going on in his/her BODY. Every body is different.

Then he thinks that all I care about is being fucked by men. What if I was bi or gay? But I’m not so I’ll just leave that.

As it happens, I’m very uncomfortable with sex. So the idea that I crave to be fucked by every guy in the whole world is kinda contradicting.

Also, as it happens, I do have a boyfriend who fucks me whenever we get the chance. Why would I want to be fucked by anyone else? Especially considering my boyfriend is intelligent enough to know that what’s inside my fat body is a million times more important. And evolved enough to love what’s inside my fat body a million times more than said fat body. So, again, why would I want anyone else to fuck me?

Finally, he seems to think I want to kill or castrate all men. That’s kinda a stupid belief, because doing so would kinda ruin the whole reproduction and species survival things :/…

Anyway, where did he get all these assumptions about me? Because all I did was inform Laci that I’m fat and, as a fat woman, really appreciate the video.

Wtf?

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Posted by on September 22, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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I’m Making My Boyfriend Fat

This was going to be, “I Hate My Boyfriend’s Mother,” and I’m going to get to that, but then I started getting down on myself.

L’s family is really big on healthy eating. And, well, I’m most definitely not. Not that I don’t want to be. I’m just super picky. And I struggle greatly to control myself. Especially since I got depression. (Yes, I -got- depression. I wasn’t depressed before or during most of college). I have noticed that since we started dating seven and half months ago, he’s developed a little gut. But I didn’t care in the least. Besides, I quite like guts.

But L’s parents have noticed, too. And they’re getting on his case about it. Now I’m getting concerned. Is it really that big a deal? Do other people notice, too? Do his coworkers? Does the public? Is he going to get even bigger because I’m encouraging him too much to eat just like me? Not that I care if he’s big or small, trust me on that. I just don’t want him to feel what I feel. I don’t want his parents to treat him the way they treat me behind my back. Except it won’t be behind his back. And it’ll be worse. And it’ll be all my fault.

Besides, being healthy is a good thing. And I’m making his unhealthy. That’s bad. :(.

I hate his parents. I hate his parents. I. Hate. His. Parents.

They came up with some bullshit today that he has an obligation to his family and should eat dinner with them.

He’s 28 years old.

He has no obligation to them beyond chores because he lives in their house.

He’s in that house all the time, cleaning it from top to bottom, doing laundry, doing dishes, while no one else lifts a fuckin finger. Excuse him if he wants to go have dinner with his girlfriend who doesn’t like the fish you guys are having. And who would refuse to eat with you anyway because you treat both of us like shit. I know they think I’m shit because I’m fat, I’m taking him away from them, and am making him fat.

My counselor told me that my eating habits should be none of my parents’ business, because I’m 24 years old. If that’s true, then that goes for L’s parents, too. If he wants to match my eating habits, that’s none of their freakin’ business. They have no right to say anything about anything about his eating or weight.

But I still feel bad I’m making my boyfriend fat and unhealthy just like me :(.

 
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Posted by on February 23, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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NaNoWriMo and Other Things

I’m so behind it’s laughable. It’s disgusting. I haven’t even reached 5000 words yet. My life is so crazy busy. During normal weeks, I hardly have any energy or brainpower to do anything after work. Now that the holidays are coming, I have even less (but yay monies). And then my mom has me editing a fanfiction writer that she’s a fan of. Which I don’t mind doing, but this is nanowrimo time. I need to write. And then I still haven’t gotten around to finishing critiquing my good friend Z’s piece, which I love, I just haven’t had time for it. Whereas she finished critiquing my piece in an hour. I feel so bad.

Then I’ve been sick. I’ve been coughing and coughing and coughing. Coughing so hard that I throw up. Ugh.

I have good news, though. I lost almost 20lbs! And not by doing too much. I’ve done the gym a little bit. But it’s gotten to the point where she’s been calling and calling. And I actually told her there was some drama at my house and I have no clothes to wear to the gym and have yet to do laundry. So, yeah. Lol. But, yay! Almost 20lbs!

My mom thinks a big part is L, my bf. I think she’s right. He tends to eat healthy, and I don’t wanna look like a pig around him, so I control myself as much as I can around him. Now he’s gonna read this and say, “Babe, you don’t have to control yourself around me.” 😛 But whatever.

Well, that’s pretty much it. I hope y’all have a good day. I already finished writing a fanfiction chapter, this blog post, and editing another fanfiction chapter. Not to mention the blog post from this morning when I couldn’t sleep! Lol. I feel productive!

 
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Posted by on November 13, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Do You Have Any Recommendations?

So, I was looking for a new book on my kindle the other day. I’ve been on this European Renaissance kick. And I’m still kinda on it, but I also wanted to see what else was out there, particularly for someone my age. I’m twenty-four. So I typed in the search bar, “new adult.” Guess what my results were?

Erotica. Fucking erotica. And more erotica. There were, like, four books that weren’t erotica. And I had already read three of them and am in the process of reading the fourth. Uhm, new adults like things OTHER than erotica, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!~

And if it wasn’t erotica, or one of the four books, it was a romance. I don’t particularly like romance. We like things other than romance, thank you. I like fantasy, too. I wanna read about 20-somethings saving the world from an evil sorcerer. I like reading about 20-somethings trying to figure out their lives, like I am. At least, I would like to read about that. That’d be nice. That might help me try to figure out my own life. God knows, I need all the help I can get.

Anyone know any good new adult like that? I found this website that has 65 books that I’m supposed to read as a 20-something, but most of them don’t sound very appealing to me. I want something modern. Something relateable. Even poetry is good. I love poetry. I just suck at it. Writing and reading it. But I try. And I appreciate. That counts for something, right?

Y’know what else I’m looking for? Good books about lesbian couples. I wanna write about lesbian couples, but I wanna do it right. I need to research. And I simply can’t find any good pieces about lesbian love. I have one piece of my own that, I dare to say, is quite good. But it’s only one little piece and I need to do more research to write a whole book involving it, y’know? Suggestions?

Also, if you know anything with abusive and/or unhealthy relationships. I’m always looking for those for my big piece, Birdie.

I’m also gonna ask, since I’m on this kick that I mentioned before, for historicals. Not all of them are Renaissance, but most of them are. I love reading about Elizabeth Tudor, Mary Stuart, her ladies in waiting, Mary de Guise, Diane de Poiters, Catherine de Medici, Catherine the Great, Sophie Dorothea (Catherine the Great’s daughter-in-law), Elinor of Aquitaine, Marie Antionette, Lady Jane Gray, the women of the War of the Roses, the wives of Henry VIII, and any other lovely lady you might think I’d be interested in learning about.

Let’s see… I guess that’s everything. I think I’m just trying to ramble, now. Ramble, ramble, ramble. Well, I hope y’all have a good day. And thanks in advance for any recommendations! Later!

 
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Posted by on November 12, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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What I Did on Thursday…Rock Bottom?

I kinda wanna write about it.

But I kinda don’t wanna write about it.

I kinda should write about it.

But I kinda shouldn’t write about it.

So, I guess, if you don’t wanna read about it, don’t read this.

If you don’t wanna report me to social services, but would feel obligated to, don’t read this.

So, I guess it’s time to tell you about it.

There were a couple factors that caused it. The first is minor.

I am sick of crying at work.

All I seem to do these days is cry. At work. Everyone at work is totally understanding about it, but it’s exhausting and embarrassing. I’m sick of caring.

The second reason is also minor.

The first reason I cried lately, was because of some chick at work. I had to pee, so I called R over to cover me, because she was the floater. She was walking up and said, “You’re lucky I’m coming over.”

I’m all, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t like you.”

I tilt my head and have her repeat herself. Now, we all joke around all the time, so I’m really confused. I had never done a thing to her, not intentionally, anyway. She borrowed my charger the day before. But as I’m in the bathroom I decide she’s being serious. So I go up to her and ask, “What’d I do?”

It was a bitch to get out of her what I did. As she walked away she said, “A couple things. Basically, you’re a bitch.”

I know this is her problem. She’s the bitch and coward for not even facing me with her problems. She’s so unimportant. But something deep inside me still cared, and was severely hurt. Because despite everything I knew for a fact, I burst into tears. I called the ASM to come talk to me before I exploded; either in sobs or screams directed at R.

But that was all minor. The real, main reason? I’ll tell you.

I have a system. I have a system for almost everything. And if you disrupt my system, I get frustrated. It’s the ADD/Aspberger’s in me. So, I have a system for closing down the registers at night. But Sunday night, I really had to pee (I have to pee a lot during work. I drink like a camel). So, in order to avoid disrupting my system, I ran to the bathroom when my system allowed some time. Literally, there was only enough time for me to go, pee, and come back. As I was walking back, Q called me over. He had to use the bathroom. So I was frustrated, and I was jokingly making a big deal out of it. But I covered him.

He left his phone at the register, and it went off. I thought, ‘it’d be really funny to answer that on him. ….No, no it wouldn’t.’ But then the manager that was there said, “Answer it!” So I thought, ‘Oh, she thinks it’ll be funny. So it must be funny.’ Besides, it wouldn’t bother me much if someone answered my phone. Esp if it was a joke/”revenge”. So I answered it. It was his gf’s sister. I told the chick the truth, I was Q’s coworker and was playing a joke on him. She told me to tell him to call her back, and we hung up.

Two days later, the day after the R incident, I found out his gf broke up with him that night. Again, tears.

The next day I had off.

The day after that, I decided I was going to stop caring about work, so that I could stop crying there. So I took a Xanax. I was OK. Q walked by and glared at me when I wasn’t looking, and I took another Xanax. Finally, we ended up at the same register. The awkwardness and guilt was too much. I couldn’t take it. So I volunteered to go to the slowest register. The one where no customers come by, and you have nothing to do but think. And think. And think.

I kinda wanted to do it.

But I kinda didn’t want to do it.

I tried to find somebody to stop me. But I couldn’t find anyone. Couldn’t think of anyone to call (not that I’d be allowed to call anyone, anyway.) So I did it.

On Thursday, April 24, 2014, I took a total of 10 Xanax and 10 Acetaminophen.

I didn’t want to die. Just wanted the attention. The pity. I wanted R and Q to feel bad for what they’d done to me. I just wanted to go to the hospital where someone would take care of me and I could get away from everything for a few days.

I didn’t feel anything happening, so I went up to Q and told him that I was suicidal because of the whole situation. He tried to save his ass by being all, “Oh, no, don’t do that. We fight like this all the time. It’s really no big deal.” No one noticed anything wrong for the rest of the work day. I only know this because I don’t remember the rest of it. I may have asked a coworker if my eyes were dilated. But I’m not sure.

Apparently, I got home safely. I guess I hung around for a while. My parents didn’t notice anything. My friend was 20 minutes late coming over, so I figured she was going to be really late. So I decided I felt like masturbating. I went up stairs, laid down, got my pants down, and the next thing I knew it was 10:30 and my mom was calling me, telling me my friend was here.

My friend, A, noticed right away. But she’s a CNA, she’s trained to. She almost took me to the hospital. But for some reason (maybe I told her no, I was fine), she decided not to. A and I went to Wegman’s and apparently I was acting kinda weird, cuz she was telling everyone that I was just a ditzy person. Then we came back and had fun.

The next morning, after A left, I decided my parents had a right to know. I had debated telling them, because I knew what they would do. But they are my parents. So I told my mom. She remained calm all day. Then my dad got home.

YOU’RE GOING TO LOSE YOUR JOB! MY CAREER IS RUINED! HE’S GOING TO LOSE HIS GUNS!

Several days of lectures and yells. Oh, and new restrictions.

My boss found out about it. Apparently idiot-ass me told a customer. But she never addressed it at work. Only on fb.

I still want the attention. I still want the pity. So I’m quietly spreading the story around at work. Even though my store is the center of rumors, my story isn’t getting around very well. Just as well, I guess.

Apparently Q and his gf got back together. He spoke to me today like nothing had happened. So, things are getting better, I guess. But the meds still need fixing. Because I kinda wanna do it again. I still wanna go to the hospital.

I went on a shopping spree yesterday. I found relaxers. Particularly, hooka sticks. They’re e-cigs with hooka instead of nicotine (right?). They’re fantastic.

No, my parents don’t know about the hooka sticks. And they aren’t going to. My counselor might. Maybe. Or not.

I’m exhausted, now. I guess it was good I wrote about it. Do you hurt yourself? What are your reasons?

 
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Posted by on April 28, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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