If I listened to the world I would be dead, because I would know that in every way I should not exist and that I am a worthless piece of shit. People die trying NOT to be like me–fat, crazy, poor. People give up every bit of happiness so they don’t have to be a person like me and I know it. In one moment “friends” will say they love me and in the next moment they are trying their best to be everything I am not. People spend billions of dollars running away from fatness, and oh, you think they just hate their own fat or want to be “healthy.” No. It is pathological–the hate. It is palpable too. I can feel it, the way you can’t stand yourself, so you would do anything in the world to NOT be what I am. But it isn’t all about me. Of course not, but no one even considers how it might make me feel that the thing you cannot stand about yourself is a part of me. Honestly, you don’t get it. I’m sick of it. That people would rather starve themselves and/or their children than to have them end up like me. All human worth can now be counted on a fucking bathroom scale. Are you over or under the weight limit? Well, what’s your answer? Do you weigh the right amount to be considered a human? Or are you the plague. THE reason why the world is in turmoil. THE scapegoat for everything that is wrong in the world.
Because, it isn’t about health and wellness. Let’s be fucking honest.
Are you never going to get sick and die? Perhaps you think that there is a scale that will let you off the hook when it comes to disease and death. What about your capacity to cause misery for other people? Have you ever considered that? No.
Oh, I’m so proud of you for not eating. I’m so proud of you for being thin. I’m so proud of you for obsessing about your weight and the weight of those around you to the point of nausea. Because THAT’S WHAT MATTERS, isn’t it? Why does it pain you so much to be real? Admit that you hate your fat and you hate fat people and everything that is fat makes you cringe and you’d rather have people like me die. Why not admit it to yourself? Because you admit it to me every time you talk about another diet or another pound lost or another pair of skinny jeans and every time you buy into the diet industry and pray to god that you’ll just lose another ten pounds or keep those ten pounds from coming back. Because you aren’t even fucking fat! Or maybe you are. I don’t know and I don’t care. It is all the same anymore.
And, I know you don’t care about me, so I have to care for myself. I have to tune out the world and pretend I don’t hear your ranting and raving about “being healthy” and “being a better role model.” If I listened to you and everyone else I would be dead. I’d shoot myself in the head and end it all if I really really listened, because I would know that my worth was measured on your bathroom scale. How pathetic is that? That you measure worth on a bathroom scale? In case you don’t know, IT IS FUCKING PATHETIC!!!
It is fucking pathetic that I even have to waste a few of my precious brain cells thinking about this nonsense instead of something REAL or something IMPORTANT. My message to you and you and you and you: suck it up. Lose the weight or don’t. I really don’t care. Shut up about it already. You can suck your diets and surgeries and miracle cures and “health” reports and “nutrition facts” and blah de blah blah blah blah blah! Just suck it!