Fatass is the trigger to my loaded gun.

What would you do if every morning you woke up and couldn’t look in the mirror, because every day that thing in the reflection is you. That thing that gets disgusted glares when ever in public. Stares that turn into judging, some even feel sorry for you. And what? You just went to the local grocery store for milk?. The worst part is when people try to hide the leers, and you catch them anyway.
It’s not like I don’t know that I look this way. I definitely do, but it’s not something that I’m proud of. Sure I can pull off the fat girl pride when I’m around my skinny friends and sometimes around my family, even though it hurts me inside to pretend. I HATE this body and I just want to be ok with it. Except it is so hard to workout, because there is a lot of me to work out. So? I don’t, and regret it every day. Then every time someone calls me lazy or a fatass, I break down. I couple of months ago I almost gave my sister a nice head smashing into a wall for repeatedly calling me a fatass and actually meaning it. Of course I didn’t really harm her, I just lost all of my freaking control and as you know we red-heads have quite the tempers.
I’m almost 18 and I have been over weight for almost 8 years now. You’d think I’d have gotten used to being called a fatass. Unfortunately it’s almost the exact opposite, I have become more sensitive as I hot older. Although hearing my father yelling at me saying that all I do is sit in front of the television, on my lazy fatass all day, hurts. I’ve been crying for the last hour and a half. Thank goodness for my best friend or in might have hurt myself again. As hard as I try, life is always going to its greatest to put me down. Too bad life doesn’t know that I will fight until my last breath for what I want.


About breesstory

I just want to tell my story about Bree. and here is how I'm gonna do it!
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