It's okay

Why is it so okay for a man to talk poorly about a woman for all her life, but when that woman responds by trying to change what he’s talking about she turns into the person in the wrong? Why is that burden she has carried now what turns her into the worst kind of person? A self-pity person. An attention seeker. Why can’t it just be that the man shouldn’t say anything in the first place? Not to hate on men, there are the majority who are loving, and who keep their criticism in their heads. There are even the superb ones who go above and beyond to rectify those insensitive comments made by their less evolved gender. But why when the woman tries to defend herself, or change herself, why then is she so wrong? Not just in the eyes of men, but her own kind? Why is it more wrong to starve myself after years of being called fat from my father and grandfather? Why is it also wrong to stand up to them? Or cut them out of my life? It seems there’s nothing I should do but shut my mouth and suffer in silence, but hey be sure to eat every morsel on your plate, right? Maybe I won’t ever understand. Maybe it’s just the way things will always be, like how men are just stronger physically then women. Maybe it’s just a fact I’ll have to deal with until I am no more. But even then, if I am no more, Will I still be at fault? Will I still be wrong and selfish for leaving? Will they ever be wrong for causing it, or will they be told to not beat themselves up, that I didn’t really resent them, I was just saying it out of anger and depression? I hate that word. I am not depressed; I was born with the same opportunities as everyone else only other people twisted my mind for me. I am lucky, people have it worse and have done far better things with it. But perhaps they don’t dwell, I guess? Maybe they just experience it and move on, only thinking about it when their drunk. Don’t get me wrong, they were never wrong, I am fat. That’s not a grab for attention. I weigh 180lbs, of course I am fat. Because I like food. I love food, it tastes good. But now I don’t want it. Why do people say they will help you if you ever ask? I’ve done that, and been told no. They will not help, though I know they love me, because it is an inconvenience to them. Which I get, I didn’t want to inconvenience myself either, when I let that girl die. When I saw her scars all those years ago and decided they were for attention. Didn’t say anything. Then she wasn’t here anymore, so I guess they weren’t for attention after all. I should write my essay. Its worth 50%, but his feels good. I wonder if there’s a place I can put this where no one can find out its me? I wonder if anyone else has ever felt this way at all? Has anyone ever had their grandmother tell them it was their fault their grandfather r died? Because they wouldn’t help with the garage sale and he was over stressed? Has anyone ever experienced anything like anything mentioned in this? Ever? I can’t be alone. But if the comments are a self-pity fest I might just die. I remember now why people hate self-pity. I hate self-pity. It ruins lives. It leads to drugs and anger and lost children who never had a chance cause that’s all their father did was self-pity. I hate it with a passion, and everyone who posts seeking it I hate too. Actually, it makes a lot more sense now, I do hate myself. I should stop. I will not reread this. That’s stupid. But maybe I’ll pull up incognito and see if there’s a place other people can read this. Maybe it will help other people realize their thoughts are also mine. Or maybe it won’t, and everyone who reads it will only see self-pity and scroll on. It’ll get lost in the internet; another dot unread in the entirety of the web. Hopefully that one. Maybe I’ll never know, I hope not. Either way, there will be no link back to me, so what does it hurt? I have to do my project now. Stop thinking kid, this is worth 15%.