Okay so new years is around the corner and I just ate a weeks worth of food in two days, it’s time to publicly admit that I’m fucking fat.

Those of you who have read my previous posts (I don’t know why you do, my apologies for being so miserable) will know that I’m completely fucked up, mostly thanks to my former employer.

I’ve had hard time not re-living these traumatic experiences and litterally every fucking random bad memory that constantly pops into my head. But in the moment, the present that I’m trying to focus on, gaining weight is making me miserable.

I wasn’t exactly a healthy weight before either, but I was sort of passable, but now I feel like I’m morbidly obese. It would do so much to help me get better if I could get in shape and regain what little of my self-esteem is left.

I’ve been catching up on Shameless (you should watch if you haven’t) and a lot of the show deals with themes of mental health and addiction (and sex, these people fuck like champions). Maybe it’s in my head a bit but I think if I’m ever going to be as fit as I want to be, I have to admit that I’m addicted to food… or bad food.

The meds have made things worse, and I’m so depressed that sometimes a cheeseburger is the only limited enjoyment I have, but if I don’t kill myself the only way I’ll ever be happy again is if I get back in shape… or in better shape then I’ve ever been.

I don’t make new year’s resolutions but something’s gotta give. If I have to live in this shit world, I can’t be a fat pig anymore.