I don't know how much more i can take.

Apologies if this is the wrong section, but i've had a few to drinks and am spiraling right now and need to get this out of my system.

Where do i even start? Prior warning, i'm a total disaster.

I've always been depressed. I can't remember a time where i wasn't utterly disgusted by myself. I even remember being 8 and having difficulty seeing my own reflection in the mirror.

Some context for why i hate myself so much. 28. Grossly overweight. Gay. Unemployed. Never been in a relationship. Never even been kissed (it's pretty much a given that i'm going to die alone and as a virgin, i mean, why would anyone ever want to touch me? I can't blame other people. I am awful to be fair).

I like to consider myself someone who uses logic for their way of thinking, so as a result of that, i know how this story goes. I'm just one of lifes losers. Society is made up of winners and losers, and sadly for me, i'm just one of the losers. It's done. Over. I just have to accept that. There isn't a single positive thing that i can attribute to myself to be honest. So yeah. Total waste of flesh. End of. Oh yeah, and my social life is basically non-exitant.

Other things. I used to get the crap beat out of me as a kid by my mother. Was told countless times that i'm worthless, a loser, a mistake, will never amount to anything, every other awful thing you can possibly imagine and so on. But at the end of the day, hey, she was right. Became a self fulfilling prophecy. I'm a stranger in a strange land, thanks to external reasons, i have always been other. I am disconnected from everything and everyone around me. I feel like i've always watched life from the sidelines and always will. I have no identify. No nationality. I'm nothing.

I was out tonight with a friend who idiotically brought me to a work function. I had no idea. I thought it was going to be a casual thing. I spent the night watching normal people have normal interactions. Laugh. Flirt. Made jokes. Will go home and sleep together. As usual, i stood from the sidelines, and watched normal people be normal. I'm used to it by now, but i don't know how much more to take. I left early because i couldn't take it anymore. My moronic friend couldn't understand why i felt awkward and out of place. So i left early.

On the walk home i couldn't help but feel like it was some sort of walk of torture. Looking at all the normal people having fun, living their lives, doing the things people are meant to do. It was really great. Right now i can hear them from my bedroom window. Laughing. Having fun. How nice it must be for them.

The cheery on top? I decided to go get a pizza, because hey, fat guy with nothing else but food in his life, what else am i going to do? While i'm waiting, two absolutely gorgeous guys walk in. I obviously can't help but notice. Feel that usual tang of jealousy etc. Turns out they were out on a date and were about to head home. I almost started to laugh hysterically. Totally perfect ending right? Already feel awful and the thing i want more than anything is shoved right in my face as some sort of low blow. I sometimes imagine myself being hugged when i'm in bed at night. All i want is to be loved.

But it's never going to happen. I'm unlovable. There's no reason to. I know how this story ends. An old man in a nursing home with no visitors full of regrets. Why even bother to continue.

You are not defined by what your mother said to you.

My story is nothing compared to yours, but there are similarities. My mother constantly told me "don't even try, you'll fail"; "why bother, you'll just break it"; "just leave it to your brother, you're not good at this", etc. As a result I grew up as an adult terrified of painting a wall incorrectly, and every time someone points "you should do this differently", the words from my childhood immediately come back.

But my mother wasn't right. At all. At the age of 33 I started pursuing a new career: working with my hands. Getting dirty. Getting bruises and burns. It took me at least a year to stop listening to the voice saying "why bother, you can't do this". I still get occasional bouts of total insecurity and that voice saying "look at this, it's ugly and nobody would want to look at it twice". But I go on. Because I am not what my mother told me. And neither are you.

Depression is a liar and a coward. Depression will tell you "you're going to die alone and a virgin". (I know, because my depression told me that too.) I considered myself to be butt ugly, have no talents to speak of and be, generally, useless. I thought my life would end at 30. Whaddya know? At 30 I STARTED being popular with guys. And at 31 I became more popular. Now I am 38, and getting married next year.

It took me two years of therapy to internalise that what my mother said was not true. That I get to define my life all by myself and her words, hurtful as they were, are nowhere near reality. Slowly I learned how to socialise (I was terrified in social situations, constantly worried I will say the wrong thing, and as a result saying nothing at all). One of the first things I learned was that once people had two or three drinks, they ALL start saying rubbish. That nobody is going to suddenly boom "AHA! you said this silly thing two years ago and now is time for your punishment!!!".

I know your depression is telling you right now: yeah, it worked for him, but it won't work for me. My depression told me this for a very long time. I was convinced medication wouldn't work, therapy wouldn't work, that I was a special flower deemed to be lonely and misunderstood. I was wrong on all counts, boy was I wrong. Are you getting any sort of medical help with your depression? Meds, therapy? It works. I promise. Losing weight is possible, too, I did it. (I still love pizza.) And by the way there are gays who only go for six-packed Ken dolls, but there are also ones who go for nice, quiet, introverted guys and then you can have pizza together.

Big hugs. You are NOT a loser. You are NOT unlovable. I know I am but a stranger on an online forum. But trust me on that. For I've been where you are standing.