Personal Blog: I'm Letting the Bastards Win (A Letter to Said Bastards)

I would like to first say that this isn't a blog for everyone to read. You can read it if you want. It's more for me than anyone. Essentially that's what blogs are for, they are for those who need to get stuff out. It could be negative, positive, or gray. This one is specifically negative. 

Now, I've had times in my life where I thought, I'm just going to give everything up. Not suicide. More of a way to purify myself. I'm going to let go of those things that is like black sludge on my life. I'm the type of guy who can turn from happy (or in my case, grumpy) to sad, angry, depressed in the blink of an eye. And there have been times where I really wanted to get rid of those things that made me feel that way. Being a writer and blogger, my days are mostly spent on the Internet, but in my defense I do try to make time for outside activities. But most of my days are spent sitting in front of a computer screen and writing. That's my job. 

But being so keen to the internet has also left me prone to YouTube, Facebook, and reading things that don't really have anything to do with what I'm working on. I like to watch YouTube videos, whether it may be an interview with an actor/musician I like or a video game that I wouldn't play myself, but would like to say 'I've seen it.' With Facebook, I like to Like pages that I have an interest in. Just today (or September 6th if I don't post it right now, which knowing me, I won't) I was reading something about the show Sons of Anarchy. It's one of my favorite shows on TV right now. They've been advertising for the Final Ride, which is their last season that starts next week (I think? I can't watch it until I've seen what happened last season, because I was a space cadet and missed episodes just kept on piling up). But they've been showing these 'memorials' for former Sons members who have died over the years. Their characters, not the actors themselves. They showed Opie and other characters who have been murdered, mostly, and then they got to Filthy Phil. He's an obese character on the show, but a nice guy. A Prospect of Samcro. But I start looking at the comment section, knowing full well that people are going to be assholes about it. No matter how you want to look at it, we do live in a 'fatty hatter' world now. And Phil, real name Christopher Reed, is a big dude. Of course, my faith in humanity was confirmed when I saw a comment basically saying, "Good! He was a fat fuck anyways. I'd rather have Half Sack." Now for those of you are unfamiliar with Half Sack, he was played by Johnny Lewis, who died at the age of 28 just shortly after his character on the show was killed off. Now, that would be a tragedy IF he just died. But didn't just die, he committed suicide. Yes, that would still be a tragedy, if he did not brutally murder an 81 year old lady. So, basically what these people are saying is that they would rather have a murderous prick be remembered than a big guy? My faith in humanity keeps on dwindling. 

Now what does Filthy Phil have to do with me? Nothing. Other than we have the same struggles with obesity. Yes. I'm a big guy. Or what some immature pricks like to call us, fat fuck. Honestly, to these people, do you ever think about what your words are going to do to people? Words can harm even more than hitting someone. You do know that, don't you? Well, you live in a bubble of comfort, because apparently you're so perfect. Guess what? Not everyone is blessed with your metabolism or your will to brush the negative comments away with a swipe of your hand. We're not all blessed like you. And to the people who say that the obese doesn't struggle. I have a resounding fuck you to say to you selfish bastards. We do struggle. Every goddamn day. We struggle to keep moving in this hateful, cold stricken world who likes to drag us down into the pits of despair, because we live in a society that wants to see good people fail. 

What gives you the right to be so judgmental? Because you're skinny? Because you have the ability to run, jump, and do what you love? Because you look at those who are inferior to you and laugh in their face? Why can't the world, especially America, encourage people rather than hate them for their differences? Oh right. We're trying new treads to accept people for their differences. Well, guess what, you forgot a few people, and you're still letting the wolves feast on us without a shout of attention.

You get these people who say, "I just put them down, so they can encourage themselves to bring themselves up." Which in translation is, "I'm a douchebag who thinks he has a great excuse." There's no excuse for hatred other than you hate someone for their differences. You think your comments are going to bring people up? You're fucking crazy, man. No. Let me tell you something about me. Your comments, though no directing at me, would be if it was me on those embarrassing photos online, or videos, or what have you. Those comments would definitely be directed at me. And those comments don't bring me up, they keep bringing me further down and down.

The haters days are probably filled with work, fun, love and lust. Let me give you a look into my world. I haven't worked since December of last year, because I hate to quit my job due to that I couldn't handle a half hour of standing on my feet. I told my boss I wanted to leave, exercise, quit smoking, and then come back. I was confident I could do it within a couple months. Here I am now: still without a job. I've asked a few times, though I know my coming back would be premature and I would only crash and burn, but I need money to live. But my boss said that she can't. She's worried that I'd have a heart attack and that I need to work on losing weight and quitting smoking. My life also revolves around pain. I'm in pain most of the day. Whether it's my back, my lungs heaving in and out at abnormal rate, it feels like something heavy is on my chest. My life is ALL ABOUT STRUGGLE. And let me tell you something, you insensitive parasite, at 450 pounds I'd be lucky enough if I could walk for five minutes for exercise. I've reached that point where I can't do a damn thing for exercise and it's killing me. 

For a while I thought, I'm just going to kill myself. Once even I sent all my manuscripts to my editor, gave her the rights to my work, and told her it was nice working with her. She stopped me, cause she isn't a heartless soul like most the bastards in this world. I want to live because I want to release my books and I want to see if people enjoy them. But you assholes make it hard for me. Your hateful words, your snips, snaps, and mindless hatred is making it seem like pulling the trigger would be the best damn thing I've ever done. What about my family? Obviously, if you cared about what my family would think you wouldn't be making the harsh comments in the first place. And maybe you don't give a damn. Maybe you'd think they'd be better off without a fat fuck in their lives. Guess what? I make them laugh, because I'm a silly bastard with a wacky sense of humor; I make them cry, because they love me and they worry about me; I make them smile, because they enjoy being around me. Do you want that blood on your hands? Because I would kill myself to escape the likes of YOU. The hater. The put down artist. 

I've tried so many times to try. Try and quit smoking, which I did for a month, but went back to (that was my fault), then tried to lose weight, but that was only momentary. Why was it momentary? Because when I see you, the haters comments about how fat people are worthless, should be picked on, should feel like pieces of shit, I lose hope. I give up. I go back to eating to soothe. Comfort eating, if you will. 

Here I sit, feeling like something is crushing my chest; my ribs ache, my breathing is shit. I'm letting you win. I'm letting the bastards who want nothing for me but to fail win. Are you going to pat yourself on the back for causing someones self destruction? Of course you will. I wouldn't wish this feeling on anyone ... including you, the bastard.