Bab 36: Wake up to reality.
It's a bit embarrassing, even a bit strange, but I truly appreciate you. The people who enjoyed my story enough to remember me, and even reach out to me. I let you and many other people down. Perhaps it wasn't anything extraordinary, but it was still, Wrong? That's not really the correct word though, is it? Shameful? Yes, it was shameful. I apologize to you and everybody else who may have been invested in this story.
I know it sounds very vain but let me take a moment to talk about myself. I'm going to go ahead and present this like it's a story. And I know how cringy it is, but I'm just going to get the depressing sob story crap out of the way first. The pathetic "traumatic" backstory that you see a lot of authors pin on their MC for the sake of exaggerated character development or to garner pity from the audience. Though this is not that. Although, I will say that there is a decent amount of character development. What I am about to say will make me feel very humiliated.
So, let's rip off the Band-Aid and get started.
Holy XXXking Xhit is my life a XXXking dumpster fire.
(Long Sigh) The truth is, I am actually a very pathetic person. No, I "was". I'm still pretty pathetic, but not nearly as much as I used to be. I still need a lot of work though.
(Earliest childhood)
You know, there are a few moments from the distant past that I can still remember. My earliest memory…. It was me playing with my cousin. I was in a pre-kindergarten program called JumpStart. It's a place that young toddlers go before they start attending the formal public schooling that all common children eventually enroll into. It's a bit fuzzy, I can't remember much outside of the naps and the toy dinosaurs that I used to play with. Back then, I was a normal, cute, gentle kid. one that didn't know anything. The only thought in my mind was that the t-rex in my hands was super cool. I then smashed it against the triceratops in my cousin's hands, mimicking an epic battle… Perhaps the excitement and euphoria at that time was what allowed me to retain such an old memory. Beyond that, nothing from that time remains...
(Early childhood) Now this may be a bit longer. It'll probably take me a bit to summarize everything. My memories from that time are fresher.
Kindergarten. It was near the end of the year, maybe I was a bad child. I can't remember much. But what I do remember was that my mother told me that if I got one more red card from the teacher, she would take my siblings on vacation while she would leave me with my grandmother…. My grandmother was not the type to smile or inspire joy into children, she was the kind of grandmother that would poke your elbows with a fork if she saw you resting them on the table. Perhaps, I misunderstood her. She probably had my best interest at heart. But to a child who only knew black and white. To me, she was grouchy and mean. The thought of spending my first summer with her was not a happy one….
But well, you know how things go…. I guess I was a bit too disruptive during story time….. The teacher told me that I was getting a red card that day. I can't remember her exact words. But the memory of the feelings are still there.
As my judge released the words, I felt terror grip my little heart. I got that feeling when you feel a sinking in your stomach…. Although I can't really remember, I felt wronged. Stupid biXch probably had it out for me. Jk jk. I completely overreacted. In my mind. I had just lost my first summer vacation. Breathing heavily, I did what any child would do. I reeeeallly overreacted. I started screaming "Nooo, Nooo I don't wanna spend the summer with Meema!" The teacher tried to send me away, but I crawled under the table and started bawling my eyes out. Even the elementary school's principal showed up…. But I refused to get out from underneath the table… Eventually though, the teacher seemed to have had a light bulb moment. She told me… "If you behave for the rest of the class, I will only give you a yellow card."
Salvation….. Like a drowning man clinging to a straw in hopes that it may keep him afloat, I shut my blabbering mouth. Though the tears did not stop flowing…. I was once again docile. I cannot remember the exact events that followed but I do remember the teacher reading everybody a story. Still under the table. I listened with the occasional sniffle. Eventually I calmed down completely. It was the last class of the day. I went home with a yellow card and managed to avoid my imminent doom. But honestly…. Thinking about it now…. My mother's threat to leave me with my grandmother was probably just to get me to behave. It was empty. That entire fiasco, my fear, my over-exaggeration. It was completely unnecessary. The drowning man desperately clinging on to the straw. Was actually just some guy flopping around in a puddle like some kind of….. Weird fish? It was so silly.
This next part is hard. Because I am going to span a couple of years with only a few paragraphs.
I began putting on weight, nothing terrible. I just, kind of became a chubby kid. Puberty made me do some really weird Xhit, but we won't get into that. Well anyway, I think, and I need to put emphasis on the word think because I'm not actually sure. But I think I ended up developing the crowd mentality. I was the joker in class. I tried to make everyone else laugh. You know, around this time, people actually started bullying me. I think that's why I started to make everybody laugh. Because I convinced myself that if I made everybody my friend. They would not mock me. I was still a pretty sweet kid, So I didn't do anything that got me in serious trouble. The teachers were also a target, though a year or two before I entered high school my grades started to slip and eventually, I stopped caring about school all together.
Anyway, 2nd grade, I developed my first crush. I wrote a message to the girl and placed it on her desk. It was one of those typical, Do you like me? Followed by a Yes or no. It had my name on it….
I still remember as she shouted out in disgust. Pointing me out in front of the entire class. Maybe she did not actually mean it. Kids are weird after all…. But to the me at that time. It was weirdly spiteful. I think it may have been the first time I felt utter humiliation. Everyone laughed at me. I can't remember clearly. But I didn't overreact like I did in kindergarten. It would be too shameful to act like that. Especially with everyone's eyes on me. But I did not have any experience controlling my emotions. I remember, throughout the class I could only look at my blank paper with blurry eyes as I cried in silence.
People still bullied me. I don't think it was too intense. Not like I've seen in those Koreans comics.
Time moves on and my 3rd year comes to an end. I had friends, I think. There were a few older kids that my brother, cousin and I would wrestle with. Of course, the older kids had a huge advantage, I could never win against them… But I could put up a fight with others in my age range. I enjoyed that time. On the other hand, the chubby me hated tag… I could never win playing that, so it wasn't fun at all…
Anyway, I got into my first and really only actual fight. Well, calling it a fight would be kind of stretching it.
Maybe he was just playing around. I probably over-reacted. But someone that maybe was a friend? Marcus…. He pantsed me in public. I think at the time, I had really bad bedbugs. Maybe not, but for some reason my legs were covered in many red dots, similar to bug bites….. My pants were down. "Ew, that's disgusting! There are so many Pimples!"
I ran away. It was a different kind of shame from what happened in the second grade. I was right next to my aunt's house at the time, so I ran inside. I couldn't control it this time and I pathetically sobbed.
My cousin said that we were going to beat him up. I hated what Marcus did to me. It was the first time I thought about getting revenge.
I tell you this next part while covering my face in shame….. I remember standing in my cousin's backyard, stupidly swinging a golf club at some cans or something. Like I was planning on bulging him to death or something. I felt really badXss and confident. I even pissed in a water gun and was going to spray him with my urine. You don't have to tell me, I know. It was disgusting….. But I wanted revenge. I wanted him to know. What it felt like….
In the end I challenged him to a fight. And he agreed.
I had wrestled with the older kids. I was confident I could tackle him to the ground and hold him there.
I knew how to wrestle, but I did not know how to fight.
Now that I was facing Marcus, I was actually afraid. But there was a crowd and even if there wasn't. I had to fight. It was finally time to stand up for myself and show everybody else that they could not bully me.
I stood there like an idiot. I slowly approached him and when I was in arm's distance. Marcus punched my face. I was confused, and I was in pain. I was punched again, and I just stood there. Again…. The third punch finally woke me up from my stupor. The pain terrified me. I collapsed and started crying, covering my nose. I felt like my nose was broken. It wasn't.
My first and last real "fight" ended. I was defeated in three punches and went home.
'I'm a loser.' I had that thought. Everyone had always made fun of me…. I understood why…. I think at that moment something solidified inside of me.
It was a disgusting corruption.
Next year when I saw Marcus again…. Do you want to know what I did?
Nothing. I acted like nothing happened between us at all. I acted like we didn't fight, like I didn't make a fool of myself… I looked at him and I joked around. I acted like it never even happened. A small part of me was afraid.
What happened the last time I fought?
That defeat didn't only embarrass me. It taught me that if I fought again. The result would be the exact same.
An ugly answer.
So, life continued. A year or two passed, nothing spectacular happened. Well, nothing at school that is.
Home life wasn't exactly perfect. It wasn't a great family, but I suppose others have it far worse than me. But it was still kind of Xhity.
I know it's a bit late but I'm actually the youngest of three siblings. My mother and father were drinkers. They were ok, only until they got really drunk… Then, to me, they turned into monsters.
They were a bit country. Outside of a few songs, I grew to hate country music. They would get drunk and party all night long, blasting that damn music. I could not even sleep. Theyd invite friends and family over often and everybody would drink themselves into unconsciousness. My mother and father have a kind of drinking meter. When they drink enough the silly smiles fade away and they were at each other's throats. When they were drunk enough, they hated each other. Shoving, dish throwing, insults, screaming. I was terrified. I often hid in my room and avoided going downstairs when they started drinking. But a badly timed bathroom break would occasionally force me into close proximity to them. I can't remember much from back then, But there were times when I or my older siblings were their targets. There were also moments when they forced us to choose sides. I remember when my father left with my siblings… I stayed with my mother…. I will not forget when my drunk mother called me over to the door and told me to stand in the doorway in an attempt to get my father to stay…
Even as a child it felt wrong.
Even now, they still get like that. They've left each other and come back to each other time and time again. Currently my mother has moved out and gotten her own place. A part of me wishes that they do not get back together again.
My mother is apparently a pretty serious gambling addict. If I recall correctly, on my 18th birthday She gave me 100 or so dollars and brought me to the casino. I lost all of my money in an hour….. I was stuck there for 13 hours as she played.
My father is a terrible alcoholic. Every day, he gets drunk. And to be honest, I don't know how I feel about him. He doesn't feel like a father. I can't talk more than three sentences to the guy without hearing the annoyance starting to lace his voice. He drinks and drives. His alcohol has gotten him sent to jail and he's tried going to rehab, I suppose it's actually much harder than people think to quit drinking. I guess he was injured some time ago… I've tried to think about things from his viewpoint…. But it's so hard to emphasize with someone you can't speak more than three sentences to. The only time the guy has ever acted like he cares about me is when he's drunk…. I hate that.
Hates me when he's sober but loves me when he's drunk. I decided to never drink alcohol or use any powerful or negative mind affecting drugs.
I swear, I am not venting… and I absolutely do not have a victim mentality. At least not anymore. I'll continue.
I'm on negative terms with my sister. She is too toxic. I try to ignore her, not because I'm afraid, but because being surrounded by such negativity isn't good for my mind. I can hold a conversation with my brother, but he can be incredibly selfish and extremely rude.
That's basically my home life. There's much more, but for now, I'll end it there.
Back to school. I've always been kind of into anime. When I was very young. For some reason there were some dragon ball z and dragon ball GT VCR tapes. I remember watching them. I was enthralled. When I was younger the only way, I could watch more was by watching Cartoon Network. And I did. I even had some video games on the Ps2.
This was after the fight with Marcus. 5th and 6th year passed. I actually worked up the courage to confess to a girl. She rejected me... But then she changed her mind… We started dating… I wasn't happy though. Well, I was, until I found out she was just pranking me. She and her friends got a kick out of tricking me.
I started watching more anime…. And I was getting fatter.
Naruto
Bleach
One piece
And a few extremely questionable ones which should not have been accessible to an early teen.
I still had friends though…. Maybe? Everything around that time pretty much just blended together. Nothing changed. Life went on, etc.
Then finally just before year 6. I moved.
New place, new life, new me.
By this point. I was watching a lot of anime…. I made a few friends in my new school. Gym class got harder; life was great…. But I let certain opportunities pass by me. I remember a group of friends stopped by the house…. They wanted me to play with them….. I didn't even meet them face to face. I can't remember who, but I had someone else reject them for me….. The reason? I wanted to watch anime….
I started 6th grade at 170 pounds. By the end of it I was just over 200. My gym teacher pulled me to the side and was concerned about my weight gain. I wasn't. I was just embarrassed she was having the conversation with me. I didn't actually care. I made no changes...
Surprise, surprise. We're moving again, one town over from our original place of residence. I didn't notice it back then, but now that I take the time to reflect… I think this really broke the camel's back. I had lost what few friends I had when I originally moved…. I made new friends…. But those relationships were cut off before they could truly flourish.
I was the new kid again. But this time, my social skills had greatly diminished, I was addicted to anime, and I was now obese. I noticed that the jacket I wore on my first day made me seem slightly thinner.
I wore that jacket every day, whenever I left my house, I would wear it. I became that weird kid that wore the same black jacket everyday throughout the entire year. Regardless of how hot it was. Every year I would get a new jacket. Sometimes I would use the same jacket for two years. Close to the end of high school, I would wear two jackets, a light hoodie and a windbreaker underneath.
Besides two instances, I wasn't really bullied much anymore. I was a nice guy, kind to everyone. Nobody hated me, Since I wore the same jacket every day, people seemed to have an easy time recognizing me…. But nobody really enjoyed my company….. I had no friends…. What few friends I may have made during that time moved away or just grew distanced.
Although I was still there, I didn't truly understand how to interact with people…. And I still don't to an extent.
My last years of high school were just me distancing myself. Sitting by myself at lunch, eating in the teacher's room. Getting zeros on group projects. I was nothing. I had nothing.
I was a loser. I wasted away my school life. I didn't try. I was lazy, I was addicted to anime. I was addicted to porn… A disgusting pile of meat. I was the depiction of a disgusting otaku…. But I was still there…. At least I still left my house. At least I went to school. At least I still could hold the most basics of a conversation.
I was a loser…. But I was still a human. Until I wasn't.
At 18 years old I graduated…. And then I disappeared….
My father moved me up to the attic. So, he could turn my old bedroom into his dream bathroom.
I decided to take a year off…. As a sort of reward for graduating…. I'm not sure. But it was probably just an excuse so that I could laze around for a year…. I felt getting a job and working for the rest of my life justified at least a year's vacation.
I asked my father to paint the walls of the attic a dark color….
Picking up a stone and smashing your own feet with it.
Before I graduated, I had been reading manga for years and had just started reading light novels….
I was in that pitch black attic for 6 six years.
I told everyone I was just anti-social, That I was introverted….. But that was a lie. The ugly truth was that I had just forgotten how to speak. 340 pounds… My diet was just ramen. Like Naruto, I told myself.
I could not speak. Not at all. I got my first cell phone at 17…. But there were no contacts. Not one. Who would I talk to?
When I was 20, my father decided he wanted to try his hand at business. He had experience as a baker. He dragged me out of my room and had me work nights with him…. It was my first job.
I finally used the phone I had gotten 3 years ago… I didn't have data, I didn't even know what data was, but I had the internet. I only used it to listen to audiobooks on Youtxbe. It helped me get through my work. It kept me distracted.
I didn't make a lot of money. After meticulously saving for 2 years, not spending a penny. I had accumulated almost 1500 dollars. I was being paid under the table…. The bakery was going under and I stopped getting paid in the last year. Well, I did get a couple bucks here and there. But I didn't care too much. I thought, Since I'm under their roof, the most I can do is earn my keep.
I had two dogs. I and the rest of my family neglected them beyond belief. Confined to a tiny room for years. They pxssed, xhit, barked, got into the trash and when it came to other people and dogs they were completely unsocialized, they would go especially crazy when they saw another dog. Although they rarely went, they loved the vet.
They were pushed out of the way and screamed at…. My father was the one that got our older dog… my mother got our younger dog…. Although I wasn't much better, both disregarded their responsibilities and neglected those dogs.
My sister and brother both neglected those dogs…. But they still treated them with affection every now and then. Until my sister got pregnant…. I could understand her anger…. My younger dog. She had a tendency to be over affectionate. She loved everybody and was always happy to show that love… But she was a big dog, and she had a bad habit of jumping up on people…. My sister's baby was born safely and healthy…. But throughout the pregnancy my younger dog kept jumping on my sister… My sister who had a baby growing inside of her was understandably angry…. But that anger eventually evolved to hatred and spite… even after she had her baby, her terrible attitude towards those dogs didn't revert.
I loved those dogs. How can I not? I was unsocialized myself. And they were my only source of affection. They stopped me from feeling alone. My family were just strangers living together. I didn't have a deep bond with those dogs, but at least they loved me. Even though I'm ashamed to say it…. But I also neglected those dogs…. I was confined to my room all day every day. I didn't like going downstairs. I hated the thought of unnecessarily interacting with my family…. I was a hikikomori….
I still worked with my father at the bakery. I wasn't even making a wage. Even though I was living in their house rent free. I was still working for free… This was around the time I was writing my fanfiction.
Some things changed…. One day my brother rushed up to the attic and he asked me. "Where are the dogs?" I was confused, but I got that feeling in my stomach…. My father sent those dogs to the pound…. He grew sick of them….
I was numb…. I went downstairs and saw that their bed was gone. I went down to the basement where my brother stayed… They weren't there. I looked outside, maybe they got loose… No, I learned that they were sent to the pound.
I began to feel strange. I went back up the stairs into my dark room and I continued reading my novels….. I felt emotionally numb, but at the same time, there was a strange electric feeling at the back of my mind. At that time, I wasn't too sure what that was.
They would be better off in a pound, right?
My younger dog was more aggressive…. Would she be put down?
My older dog was a gentle giant. But he wasn't that young anymore, would he also be put down?
Those kinds of thoughts crossed my mind. My brother fought with my sister. My sister wanted them gone, but eventually she gave in and called the pound they sent them to, but the conditions were that the dogs needed to be walked everyday so that they would stop xhiting and pxssing on the floor.
My brother came up to my room and told me that I needed to go and speak to the people from the pound. I needed to try and convince them to give us the dogs back...
That strange electric feeling was still in the back of my head. I walked downstairs and saw my sister who was holding the phone…. She said…. The dogs would be better taken care of in the pound…. And that if I really wanted what was best for them, I should just forget about them….
I was silent…. My thoughts were conflicting…. What she said was true…. I knew that I wanted them back, but I also knew that if they came back their overall situation wouldn't change much. I wouldn't suddenly become super outgoing and disciplined…. and my family wouldn't automatically start treating them better….. They would still be confined to that small room…. On the other hand, if they stayed over there, they may truly live a far better life…
I wanted them back….
Was it selfishness…. maybe.
Do I love my dogs?... I do love my dogs. More than my own family. But it wasn't to such a great extent... I may not be such a person. I am gentle, I am kind. But truly, although I am ashamed to say it. My heart is not very big. If it was, I would let them go. My mind is a mystery… Even to myself.
She told me that I needed to record my message so that she could send it to the humane society. She said something along the lines of "making it convincing."
She handed me her cell phone. I looked at it and stared at the record button….
When was the last time I actually had a conversation with anybody outside of my family? I couldn't recall.
Pushing the button.... I still felt numb.
I spoke….
Jittery words came out… It was awkward. I could barely piece a sentence together… The electric feeling grew so strong. My entire body was shaking. It felt like I was being continuously shocked. Maybe it was a type of fear?
My sister took the phone from me and gave me a stupid look. She told me it was a xhitty attempt and that it wasn't convincing at all, and that if I wanted those dogs back, I would need to try to do better.
I took the phone and then blankly looked at it. I pushed record again.
Another attempt.
I tried putting more emotion into my voice. I tried hard. But everything just came out so robotic and dull….. But still, I pieced my sentences together….. As I spoke, that terrible shock got stronger and stronger. And finally, it snapped and broke.
I do not want to be a useless coward. A loser that lies down at the first sign of defeat.
A want to be strong…
I wanted to get back up after being pushed down.
I finally truly and utterly understood, just how truly and terribly fxcked my situation was.
I fight for myself.
I desperately want to be the protagonist of my life.
Not some fxking terrified loser.
Uncontrollable emotion repressed for years bubbled up like a boiling pot. Barely coherent, I wailed my grievances.
I've been running away.
I could not control myself… Eventually I reverted back to my loser self. I put down the phone. Quickly went back up to the attic and screamed… Maybe it was like a child. Maybe the howl of a defeated animal…. I must have woken up my father, I remember, hearing him yelling for me to shut the hxll up.
Disgusting, I was like a child throwing a tantrum. Although I always desperately tried to hide it, I was never good at controlling my emotions. But for the first time in my life, I cursed my father.
"Fuck you!"
'Fuck you!"
Fuck You!"
"You Mother Fucker!"
"FUCK YOU, YOU PIECE OF HUMAN SHIT!"
"I WORK FOR YOU FOR FREE AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO TO ME!!? IF THOSE DOGS AREN'T BACK BY TOMORROW I'M DONE!!!"
I wanted him to hear my hate. I stomped as hard as I could as I cursed him from my soul.
I was 21, I was fat, I was pathetic, I didn't know how to properly use a phone, I didn't know anything about the world. I didn't even know what days the mail came.
As pathetic as it was, I decided that no matter what. I would become better. Somehow, I would unfxck this abhorrent mess....
Long story short.
We ended up getting those dogs back… Both my brother and I began walking them every day… My brother eventually reverted back to his previous behavior and stopped giving them walks after two weeks.
I took the money I saved and brought them to the vet for the first time in three years. They were given necessary shots and check-ups. I bought their food for them as well as toys.
But their situation wasn't ideal…
Eventually the bakery went into bankruptcy, and we had to close down. When we first started the business, my father had been sober for a year or two, but halfway through, he began drinking again… The moment he started arriving at work drunk and with a six pack, I understood that this bakery was going to fail… In his drunken stupor, he fought with our clients, our customers, and even our suppliers. One by one, people got fed up with it. Many ingredients were thrown away every day and the store continued to lose money until we were forced to close down.
Things were more complicated though. We had 20,000 dollars worth of debt. We were about to lose our house. It was only a few months into the new year.
I got my first job. I couldn't live on my own… With my lack of common sense, I didn't know how…. So I started making pizzas. For others, it was a very simple job. But for me it was very difficult. My mind was rusty and rotted. It went unused for years, coupled with bad adhd and a tendency to forget things easily, learning how the process worked took an incredible amount of effort on my part. The first week, I experienced my first anxiety attack. The week after that, another one... eventually though, after a few months I somewhat learned the ropes. Every day I arrived, I worked with enthusiasm. I never stopped or got lazy.
What was left of the money I had saved from the bakery went to the family, as well as my first 10 paychecks. Almost 5,000 dollars… Around that time, we managed to somehow pay off our debt. After that, for a time, my money was my own. I didn't really need to pay for rent for the foreseeable future as I had just paid my family 5k.
I kept taking care of my dogs, getting home around 10pm and giving them a walk around 11pm. Buying their food and treats and getting them an occasional toy…. I even bought a few dog beds.
A year passed, and I was finally accustomed to my new job. For the first 4 months I avoided the phone like it was the plague. It took a long time before I could properly talk to people… But with the repetitive environment, I eventually acclimated and talking to strangers became normal. With time my anxiety slowly faded away… By no means am I a charismatic person. Even today, I still lack a lot of common sense. But at that time, I at least finally carried the resemblance of a real person.
I finally learned how to use a cell phone. I even had contacts… My father never asked for my number, so he still isn't on my phone's contact list…..
By this time, I was 340 pounds. I was a fat whale. Walking up to the attic took my breath away.
Around this time, I decided…. I wanted to lose the weight.
I went to the gym. It was the dead middle of the worst winter I had ever experienced, the temperature reaching -17.… I can't recall how I got there. Maybe my father took me? Ignoring his rudeness, He's actually an ok guy when he's not drinking.
It was awful… The agony of running for 5 minutes straight… and at a slow pace, 5 minutes followed by a break, 10 minutes, break, 10 minutes, break… That was my first gym session and it felt terrible.
I felt strangely inspired…. I ended my first workout with a cold shower…. I started hot and slowly made my way to cold…. The cold water burned…. It was negative outside. Not the worst of that year but bad enough…. And it made me feel strong.
Shortly after, one of my cousins joined me. He was 18, I was 23. Until the end of that winter was near. We went to that gym every day. Even if I had to walk, I still went… And at the end of each workout, we finished with a cold shower.
During this time…. I started listening to philosophy while working out. I started with Socrates, and although I didn't realize it at the time, Marcus Aurelius… Eventually I started listening to Earl Nightingale. This was by far the most crucial part of my journey. The mind is the most important aspect to a person's self-development. For two or three months, I listened to inspirational words of wisdom… I began to see the value in listening to these people….. I wasn't only cultivating my body anymore… I was also starting to cultivate my spirit, my inner self.
In some way, everybody is a slave to something.
I…. was a slave to my weakness. My fear, My disgusting lust. I was a slave to the sense of security that my attic offered me.
Those philosophers laid the groundwork for me to understand that while I may be a slave, I could also be my own master. Instead of feeding the negative monsters bubbling in the back of my mind…. If I could control myself. I could maybe feed something better. Something more positive. It didn't have to be selfless…. But it didn't have to be something negative either. I could just…. Help myself?
I didn't realize…. I think I was waiting for somebody else to help me…. To save me from that disgusting life. But nobody would help…
Life is like the stock market… and everybody is their own individual stock seller and buyer. If the investors see that a stock has only ever gone down, and showed no potential for future growth… Would they invest their hard-earned resources into it? Of course not! Would you touch a stove if you knew it was hot? You would just end up stupidly burning yourself.
You must save yourself…. Do not ever rely on somebody else to save you…. Doing so will only hurt yourself.
Eventually my workout on the treadmill increased from 5 minutes at the start to 10 minutes. And each workout after that became 15 minutes. Although my pace was slow, I was completing around 2-3 miles on the elliptical everyday…
Near the end of the winter, I ended up slipping badly on some ice and hurt my ankle… I could no longer make the walk to the gym I was going to at that time…. I had only lost around 15-20 pounds.
I did not let the injury stop me… There was actually another more public gym that was nearer to my home. Just down the street. Both the days and the hours at my job increased… making it harder to go to the gym… But I decided. My own self-development was too valuable to neglect. I got home from work between 12 and 1am, made sure that I walked my dogs, and then went to the gym for an hour or 2 every day. I could no longer use the treadmill, so I began focusing on weight training. Although I was consistent, I didn't really notice any progress being made.
Three more months passed, and my ankle finally recovered. But around the same time, I ended up getting two bad ingrown toenails on both my big toes. I still couldn't use the treadmill due to the pain of walking. But I did start using the elliptical to compensate for my lacking cardio.
The thought of becoming my own MC never left me. I was ambitious. I had developed a secret dream…. It was unrealistic, even childish… But it was something I decided I was going to achieve. Even at the cost of what was most important to a coward like me, my own life.
I decided that I was going to start learning something… I bought some books on business but later I switched my studies to stock market investing…
Another year passed like that. I completed my first marathon on the elliptical, not in one go mind you, but in two segments in a 24-hour period. It wasn't a competition, rather a personal goal. I have also read several books…
Before I read those books, I had foolishly thrown my savings into a few stocks and lost money. But the MC does not give up….. He gets back up regardless of how many times he's pushed down….. But in a realistic sense…..
I removed the money from the stocks I invested in…. Learned from my books and reinvested everything into the S&P 500. For now, I would keep it there. I decided that I would finish all 14 of my investment books before I started throwing money into stocks of my own choice.
I'm around 270 pounds right now… This seems to be the limit of weight loss through exercise. I've decided to try and change my diet. Something I've been putting off…. I also hired a tutor. 2 lessons a month, 200$ a month. It's expensive, but myself improvement is far more valuable. I will be learning financial math. I actually had to study up on most of the basic math's as I had forgotten how to formulate them, which negatively affected my personal studies.
Relatively recently, I bought and had someone install a 2,000$ gate for my dogs? Now they can run around as often as they want. No longer are they confined in that tight space. I also recently went to the doctor for the first time in 11 years. I thought the ingrown toenails would eventually go away on their own. They didn't. The pain just kept getting worse. And after almost 9-10 months I scheduled my first doctor's appointment. He went at my toes with what looked like a screwdriver…. I still lack common sense; I tried having a conversation with him…. I think I may have behaved rudely though. He seemed upset. As I left, I asked the nurse to apologize to him for me.
I told my boss that I was going to be leaving my job soon, probably sometime in the next couple of months. I also asked for a 2$ raise. He told me I was a terrible negotiator. But I got it…. I will admit. Although I have gotten much more control over my emotions over the last two years, I got a bit emotional when I had that conversation with him.
He told me I had to be more stoic. And I agree…..
To be honest, I was confused… I was not sad when I was speaking to him, I wasn't afraid or upset either. Why was I emotional?
Later I realized why.
I discovered It is very difficult to lie with your face when you speak from the heart….. That's basically an update of my life. Very cringey, and maybe even a slight bit edgy.
The me back then was so pathetic… and the current me is still lacking in many areas.
I am slow on the uptake.
I forget things easily.
I am unfit.
I am unsocialized.
I have a terrible sense of direction.
…
…
…
But from now on I am a Main Character.
What does the Main Character do?
He struggles.
He gets back up when the world has pushed him down.
He grinds his stats until he can overcome any obstacles in his path.
I am very weak; I despise that weakness. So, I pursue the highest strength. I chase competence. In mind, body, spirit, influence and wealth.
THE REASON I POSTED THIS UPDATE:
I know this site has a lot of losers. People like me. People who are terrified of reality. So much so, they shut themselves away from it.
Isekai, Overpowered MC, Strong from the start, Reincarnation, Regression.
Why are there so many generic and overused genres and tags? Shouldn't people have gotten bored of it by now?
It would be foolish to assume that every Dick, Harry and Joe that prefers these tags are like me, I've seen the normal people complaining in the comments about another generic "Overpowered Isekai with an edgy MC."…
But you have to admit…
The one thing that all of these genres have in common?
They scream for an escape from reality….
They dream of leaving their own reality. Of going to some new world, given some huge advantage, one that would give them an inevitable edge. Imagining themselves as a rebirthed bxdass. They get absorbed in that fake-empty power-fantasy. It is easier, and it gives you that sense of power that you are looking to substitute.
But that is just a fantasy… and the longer you indulge in such a fantasy, trying desperately to experience what you yourself lack, the more you corrupt yourself.
I can't claim to know why you became the way you did. But it doesn't matter.
I was the problem.
Although my circumstances weren't the best. Nobody forced me to react to them the way I did.
As easy as it is to blame other people for my predicament, It isn't a solution. Doing so only pushes me deeper into the abyss.
At least if you take responsibility and accountability, you can get better…. You can't be isekaied, you're not going to get reincarnated, and you're not going to regress. But you CAN reforge yourself. You can equip yourself with the rare "Second Chance" tag.
Even if you're terrified, even if you're clueless about the world. Even if you're a forgetful idiot….
It doesn't matter.
Even though you can't become overpowered from the start, you can still be the hardworking protagonist. The one that eventually DOES become strong.
But you need to endure. Become disciplined. Turn off the PlayStxtion, destroy the computer you watch porn on, put down the novels, and start reading for your own self betterment. Watch motivational videos… listen to philosophy, Join the gym… If you don't have a job, and you have no capital, then find someone who's willing to invest in your new future growth prospects, and make sure you pay off with interest, your owed dividends.
It's fine to have panic attacks. Do not let things snowball. As long as you endure, you will get used to your new environment.
Be humble. Humbleness is the fuel you need to get better, to get stronger. Do not be arrogant, It only breeds weakness and contempt. You do not have that luxury.
Apologize and accept blame, when blame is due, even if it is shared blame. Rather than butting heads on who is responsible, be calm, make it clear that you just want to be mature and move on from a bad situation. Do not explode in the process. Remember to be stoic. It will take time, but you can develop the habit of taking on all your challenges with a stone face.
Schedule. Procrastination (lazing about and not getting things done) is your greatest enemy. You need to discipline yourself enough to create a schedule. You can do this manually or download an app on your phone. Do not hesitate to spend money for your self-improvement. Schedule a time to go to gym, to walk your dogs, to study a book on investments. Do not start with something exciting. Start with something boring. For the first 5-9 months, do not miss gym for even a single day. This isn't good for your body's immediate improvement, but it will help you build discipline the fastest. No excuses. Whether you're sick, whether it's raining, whether it's snowing or below -17. You have to go every day. As any hard-working protagonist would. This is the most necessary step. Also do not listen to music while at the gym or on the job. For a few months listen to philosophers. Socrates, Marcus Aurelius, Earl Nightingale, Jim Rohn, etc. This will cultivate your inner spirit. Spirit and mind are two different things.
Your spirit is your essence, who you are, It is not physical. But rather your passive character. The mind is your ability to reason and be logical. It is more active.
Now, If you've made it this far, then I assume you've read out of curiosity or because a part of you may have agreed with what I've been saying.
....
....
....
I have a Facebook page… A group that I decided to form for people who want to get better. Who want to become successful and achieve impossible goals. People who want to unfxck their life.
I've seen the notes.
More than once, have I read the suicide notes of people on this site. Even from the very authors of fanfictions.
"I will throw myself in front of a truck, pray that I get isekaied.
"I'm going to end my life tomorrow, hopefully I get reincarnated into a new world."
It's a fantasy.
A hope, a dream for a new life.
But no, there is no truck that will help you.
Only you can help you. Nobody else will care for you as much as you care for yourself. How many years did you spend playing Video Games? Reading novels, watching anime and manga? How many tens of thousands of hours did you waste?
Instead of trying your best playing Fortnite for thousands of hours, If you just put down the controller and dedicated that time to your own self-improvement. How high would your personal stats be?
You should have spent that time leveling yourself up.
Instead of hurting yourself with the chocolates of luxury and laziness, You should have used the whip of discipline and growth.
But it is not all bad. Not all a waste.
YOU DO HAVE AN ADVANTAGE.
Although your time was not best spent. People on this site have a particular advantage.
I've read thousands of books over the years. Millions of pages…. That is my own advantage. Although I was secluded in the attic for so long…. My mind and imagination is untethered. It has been colored with one important aspect. And that is my mind's terrifying ability to think.
You may be in a xhitty situation… But you may still have gained something from it…. But be wary, it is only an advantage if you know how to use it….
That is all for now. I may come back to this fanfiction again and make more posts in the future… I don't want people to stop seeing these kinds of posts.
My Fxcebook page is Gigma C.O.S. My personal Fxcebook. Is Gigma Cos.
If you don't have a Fxcebook make one.
Feel free to comment on anything in this update. I know that this may be a letdown. But this fanfiction won't be continued. I simply am dedicating too much time for self-improvement to keep going.
ATTENTION. Do not forget what I have said here. Keep this book in your library. Even if you don't agree with what I've said…. Perhaps in the future, If you're ever in a corner, You'll have some idea on how to unfxck your situation…. But remember. While I consider my character passible, I am not a saint, and I will not be taken advantage of.
A man that is willing to stake even existence itself on the completion of a goal, Will not be defeated.
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