uberwolf0

When I was very young I realized that I'd never be able to fuck the way other men could. I also knew I was not very attractive.

I knew that if I got a woman to go to bed with me I would have to be able to know what I was doing to compensate for my many issues.

I learned to do everything I could and I've had no complaints, so far.

TL:DR lots of hand and mouth stuff.

terrified shitless. Every day that I wake up, I'm surprised.

I had a LOT of trouble with it because I was always sick. Or maybe I wasn't, as some therapists have told me it was Munchhausen syndrome.

I did manage to get out and play football for a year until I broke my arm. I struggled and was never allowed to play but at least I got in some practices.

I was also in marching band but would often lose my breath and have ashthma attacks so they created a drum pit, put me there, and thee I excelled.

I was about 4 when I started gaining excessive weight. Mom said she fought with me at first, physically harming me even to keep me away from food. She said I'd eat raw margarine out of the fridge when she wasn't looking. Eventually she not only stopped fighting but purposely endulged. She told me later in life that she hoped if I got fat enough I'd never be able to leave her.

unfortunately those who are inclined to hate obese people will just say things like "MY CUNDISHINS" and "MAH GENETICS" and so on and so forth.

I honestly believe many of the people who hate on fatties do as much or more justifying of their behaviors as the fatties themselves.

For me, its 3 factors.

First, I really do like food. like quite a lot.

but I suffer from PTSD. this has to do with a very abusive childhood. this PTSD has led me to OCED (obsessive compulsive eating disorder). Easiest way to think of it is like one of those "my strange addiction" episodes where the person is eating couch cushions or something. I basically do that, but instead of couches its food.

that OCED gets worse when my PTSD flares and my PTSD is a daily occurance. Some days I can find other ways to cope. Some days I fail and turn to food. Those days suck.

rarely, maybe a couple times a month, I'll have a 'bad' meal out of pleasure. but that's quite commonly short lived due to the guilt that follows.