Miserable bitch

Now I’ve never been one for smiling, I’m just not a naturally smiley person.  If I had a penny for every time someone told me to smile or cheer up I’d be rich. And it boils my piss! If fact it’s nearly come to blows when I was a lot younger and quicker to react.

What gives people the right to comment on my appearance? What if I went around saying ‘oh you’re always so fat, why don’t you ever lose some weight?’

I think this has eaten away at me a lot of the last few years ever since I was out for a Christmas work night out when a colleague said ‘you know everyone at work just thinks you’re a miserable bitch but I think you’re a right laugh’


it must be so nice to live a normal life , to not find every day a constant struggle. To not despise yourself and worry about every move you make and word you say. To feel so awkward and trapped inside your own body.

Must be fucking fabulous.

id love for certain people to live one day with my bullshit thoughts

(But then again I don’t have a single wrinkle and still get regularly IDd in supermarkets, so up yours!)


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