Kill me, then.
Thank you, douchebag from Plentyoffish.com.
I never would have realized how horrible and disgusting and what a worthless waste of space I am if you hadn't been kind enough to message me and tell me. I have no idea how I possibly could have believed that any person on this whole motherfucking planet could have found me in any way attractive. How can I ever thank you for reminding me that I am in fact less than human? That I don't deserve to share the same air, space, water or existence as those of average size.
When I asked you why you felt the need to just...message me to tell me these thing? Your response really made me open my eyes. You messaged me because you thought I needed to know and because fat bitches trying to get dates and putting profiles up on the internet makes you sick. Guess what Romeo? I already knew. You think you hate fatties? Sweetie, you could never in a million years hate me more than I hate myself. I look at myself in the mirror and I want to throw up more than you do because you just have to look at this body for a moment..then you can look away, I? have to live in it all day every day. Did it ever occur to you that while you're frothing at the mouth and telling all us fatties to go to the gym, when you're at the gym you don't want us there either. Do you think I don't feel the hate every single moment of every day I go out in public? Do you think you're subtle? You're not.
I'm currently on a 1000 calorie a day diet. I'm taking a medication that could very likely shave 10 years off of my life, because in combination with the anti-convulsent that I'm on...it makes up a drug that the FDA specifically turned down. I have a damaged knee that curtails my movement, because the bone grinds against bare bone benieth the knee cap. I'm epileptic, making stressing my body a risky idea since heat/stress/strenuous exertion tends to send me into writhing convulsing fits. Yet I'm still trying, doing my best to make myself into something you won't gag to look at, even though the doing could very well end me permanently. What more do you want from me? Should I kneel in the town goddamn square and flaggelate myself in penance for being so disgusting and unworthy to exist? Would that make you happy? Or would you just tell me to put a shirt on.
Do you want to know how I got this fat? Let me tell you, from the time I was 3 years old I was on anti-seizure medication, and the main side effect of this med? Weight gain. Yet I couldn't NOT take it because if I did? then I likely wouldn't have made it to see the first grade. But Hey! that probably would have been for the best. If I'd died as a child I wouldn't now be offending you by simply existing.
How about this, you hate fatties so much? Kill me. You'll be doing me a favor, I promise. Take a knife, sticking in my motherfucking heart and give it a good solid twist. When I'm dead you can feel better that there's one less fatty in the world to make you sick. At least if you just stick the knife in my heart it won't hurt anymore, because honestly I don't know what more I can fucking well do. I put the warning on my profile, I told everyone straight up that I was fat and exactly how fat that was. I wasn't misleading, I didn't just put up face shots. I did everything I possibly could to avoid upsetting anyone, and it's still not enough.
It's never enough. Nothing is ever enough because at the end of the day I'm still fat and you still think that I don't deserve to live and in all truth I agree with you. I tried to kill myself when I was ten years old because I knew *then* the same thing that you just had to enlighten me about. The world would be a better place without my disgusting fat ass in it. Even now, when I'm doing everything I possibly can to lose weight....none of that matters. You looked at me and you made this assumption about who I am. You looked at me and you didn't see the tiny, calorie restricted meals I eat, or the fact that I don't ever ever drink soda, or the fact that I probably watch my calories closer than you do your own. You didn't know that even with tears running down my face from knee and back pain resulting from repeated falls and trauma I still do an hour or so of cardio work on my Wii almost every day.
You looked at me and all you saw was a fat, lazy, ugly nothing that sat on the couch and stuffed it's face with food, grunting and drooling to itself while it watched TV. An animal, less than human and even less worthy of your kindness and understanding.
All I want to know is...how do you expect me to exist and try and fix the problem, when all you do is tear down what progress I've made? What happens when the day comes and I'm either thin, or dead? Do I miraculously become a person to you, when I hit 115 lbs? Do I have feelings then? Do I have the right to exist then? Or am I still fat? Am I still nothing?
When you have an answer you let me know.
I never would have realized how horrible and disgusting and what a worthless waste of space I am if you hadn't been kind enough to message me and tell me. I have no idea how I possibly could have believed that any person on this whole motherfucking planet could have found me in any way attractive. How can I ever thank you for reminding me that I am in fact less than human? That I don't deserve to share the same air, space, water or existence as those of average size.
When I asked you why you felt the need to just...message me to tell me these thing? Your response really made me open my eyes. You messaged me because you thought I needed to know and because fat bitches trying to get dates and putting profiles up on the internet makes you sick. Guess what Romeo? I already knew. You think you hate fatties? Sweetie, you could never in a million years hate me more than I hate myself. I look at myself in the mirror and I want to throw up more than you do because you just have to look at this body for a moment..then you can look away, I? have to live in it all day every day. Did it ever occur to you that while you're frothing at the mouth and telling all us fatties to go to the gym, when you're at the gym you don't want us there either. Do you think I don't feel the hate every single moment of every day I go out in public? Do you think you're subtle? You're not.
I'm currently on a 1000 calorie a day diet. I'm taking a medication that could very likely shave 10 years off of my life, because in combination with the anti-convulsent that I'm on...it makes up a drug that the FDA specifically turned down. I have a damaged knee that curtails my movement, because the bone grinds against bare bone benieth the knee cap. I'm epileptic, making stressing my body a risky idea since heat/stress/strenuous exertion tends to send me into writhing convulsing fits. Yet I'm still trying, doing my best to make myself into something you won't gag to look at, even though the doing could very well end me permanently. What more do you want from me? Should I kneel in the town goddamn square and flaggelate myself in penance for being so disgusting and unworthy to exist? Would that make you happy? Or would you just tell me to put a shirt on.
Do you want to know how I got this fat? Let me tell you, from the time I was 3 years old I was on anti-seizure medication, and the main side effect of this med? Weight gain. Yet I couldn't NOT take it because if I did? then I likely wouldn't have made it to see the first grade. But Hey! that probably would have been for the best. If I'd died as a child I wouldn't now be offending you by simply existing.
How about this, you hate fatties so much? Kill me. You'll be doing me a favor, I promise. Take a knife, sticking in my motherfucking heart and give it a good solid twist. When I'm dead you can feel better that there's one less fatty in the world to make you sick. At least if you just stick the knife in my heart it won't hurt anymore, because honestly I don't know what more I can fucking well do. I put the warning on my profile, I told everyone straight up that I was fat and exactly how fat that was. I wasn't misleading, I didn't just put up face shots. I did everything I possibly could to avoid upsetting anyone, and it's still not enough.
It's never enough. Nothing is ever enough because at the end of the day I'm still fat and you still think that I don't deserve to live and in all truth I agree with you. I tried to kill myself when I was ten years old because I knew *then* the same thing that you just had to enlighten me about. The world would be a better place without my disgusting fat ass in it. Even now, when I'm doing everything I possibly can to lose weight....none of that matters. You looked at me and you made this assumption about who I am. You looked at me and you didn't see the tiny, calorie restricted meals I eat, or the fact that I don't ever ever drink soda, or the fact that I probably watch my calories closer than you do your own. You didn't know that even with tears running down my face from knee and back pain resulting from repeated falls and trauma I still do an hour or so of cardio work on my Wii almost every day.
You looked at me and all you saw was a fat, lazy, ugly nothing that sat on the couch and stuffed it's face with food, grunting and drooling to itself while it watched TV. An animal, less than human and even less worthy of your kindness and understanding.
All I want to know is...how do you expect me to exist and try and fix the problem, when all you do is tear down what progress I've made? What happens when the day comes and I'm either thin, or dead? Do I miraculously become a person to you, when I hit 115 lbs? Do I have feelings then? Do I have the right to exist then? Or am I still fat? Am I still nothing?
When you have an answer you let me know.