1 Chapter 1 Prologue!

The Year is 2021 I have started to keep a journal because my mental health is not ok. I'm unsure of how to do this, but let's give it a shot. My name is Eric, I am currently 27, and tomorrow I will be turning 28. In my own eyes, I am a failure. I STILL live with my parents, god... I am single and I have been on exactly one date. I have no talent when it comes to doing anything, be it video games, art, or music. I have had the same job ever since I can remember, and it's a dead-end job with no future. In today's society, I'll need three more jobs if I want to live on my own. I'm severely overweight at 288 pounds and I stand tall at 5 foot 11 inches. Thats not even the worst of it, I also have an excessively hard time even focus on anything. It's like there's a fog. It's hard to explain, but at one point in time I had a migraine, and that so-called fog lifted, and life didn't ****, but the next day it was back. I cried for the whole day, it's was like being able to finally see color for the first time, then the colors just slowly faded away. It was truly terrifying, then when the fog came back it was like all my emotions were surpassed, and nothing really mattered.

To those who are reading this, that last part may not seem like much, but to me, it was a life-changer. I was able to focus and do things I was never able to do before. I remembered things from the past and applied them to things that I did that day. My day was filled with color, emotions, and new experiences. I was able to sing, play music, even draw with my right hand. Ahh right this is a journal, and I have not explained that. I can barely use my index and middle finger on my right hand. I got bit by my parent's dogs, and most of the tendons in those two fingers were damaged enough so that I can't feel anything in them, nor am I able to properly move them. A simple task like holding a pencil is a challenge, let alone fealing the frets on a guitar, or how light or heavy my pen strokes are when I want to draw a picture. As you can see it limits some of the things I want to do.

I know there are people out there who have it worse, homeless, starving, and even some of those that are addicted to drugs. I am a greedy person, I don't particularly care about those people because I can't even help myself, and I can clearly see a path to being homeless, in the future. It frightens me to no extent, but at the same time, this fog is preventing me from caring. I want a change, and I need a change. I need to change. I need to change myself. I... I am scared. What do I do? What should I change, what should I change first, what can I change? How should I go about it? What is my end goal in life? I am starting to lose control of my e*teardrop*ons. I should stop here. Hopefully, the next time I write in here is on a good note.

~

It's been a while since I last wrote, maybe six or seven months. I have been thinking hard about my life, and I have made the decision to change myself first. For about a few weeks now I have been working out and exercising. It's hard to stick to it because I want someone to motivate me, and every morning I wake up tired, and every night I go to bed in pain. I first told my parent about it to get some help, but my parents don't care, and they just keep insulting me. They see me eating this and that and yell at me saying things like "I thought you were on a diet, your not gonna reach your goal by eating this and that, **** you even have tits now." Like it was a vegan patty sm*tear*d into a paste and put into a burrito lightly grilled with green peppers, and red onions, half the size of my fi*tear*. It was the first thing I had all day after getting off an 11h shift at *tear* work... That plus this fog that makes me very lethargic is holding me back but I'm pushing through it with wi*tear*wer alone. I also have made large improvements. I'm currently at 255 pounds, 254.2 if I'm hungry. My skin is a bit tan, and not pasty white anymore, and I can do 5 pushups before the pressure on my ankles or writs is too much, and I collapse. I can do about 25 jumping jacks, and about a block of running before I have to stop. It's not much, but it's little improvements that help me stay my course.

*sniff* wipes snot covered face

The next thing I want to do is look for a new state to move to, someplace that's not very big, but has enough area to grow in the future. A place where I only need one 9 to 5 job and not three. I'm thinking someplace in Colorado would be good. Honestly looking at jobs while not in a tight pinch like this is kinda fun. You really see some inconsistencies such as a place for animal rights advocates, selling dogs, received from puppy mills. If you don't know what a puppy mill is, it's where they force 1 dog to give birth till it dies, and most of its litter is/are filled with problems, and most likely won't live past 4 months/years. But they are being sold by animal rights advocates so it's ok! The irony is amazing. Or this one that seems a bit sketchy, it's for a cannabis trimmer where you get paid $110 per pound of packaged cannabis. I gata dig out my resume and dust it off. I'll start tomorrow when I wake up in the morning for my next training session. On A side note, I'm now able to wear my old XXL shirts, and my XXXL shirts are a bit too big now, and my size 52 waist, is now around 48. I need to go buy a belt now, haha. I never thought I would. : )

~

My parents want me to move to Panama, **** that. I have a hard enough time with English, and they expect me to learn Spanish. We ended up getting into a big fight, and my mother ended up yelling at my face, that I don't love her, and that I was the worse child she ever had, fat, lazy, and a piece of shit that can't do anything for himself. You know it's not my fault that they sheltered me so much that the sun scares me. I remember one time when I was a kid, that the first black person I ever saw scared me. So I went up to him and was like hey wanna be my friend. We hit it off, and we were great friends, but once my mother found out she flipped out, that I had a black friend... *Sigh* I don't really own anything about the world I live in. I have been learning stuff from the internet for a while and experiencing the world with my own efforts, but I see why my mom flipped out, but I don't agree with her. At least get to know someone for a while before judging them. *bigger sigh* I'm at a point I just don't know what to do. I might as well just leave tonight. I have a backpack, that I can fill with three sets of clothes if I pack it in there, and my **** car has a big enough trunk space to hold my guitar and pc. If I sell my pc and guitar, that could probably hold me over, until I get a call back from one of those job applications. My stomach is hurting from all this stress. I should just leave. ****. ****. ****! Ahh! My stomach! Just my blanket and pillow and I'm out of here.

Last book entry

* Sometime later on a road*

"God my stomach hurts." *Grunts* *Cough* *Cough* *Cough* "Uhg..." *Blacks out.*

*Car horn~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

*Screaaching tire noises*

*Crash!*

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