Bad Combinations

My anxiety issues make me not want to do things. Not doing things makes me extremely bored and apt to spend money online.

Grow a thicker skin, OP. The loud-mouth opinionated part is what makes people interesting.

I’m a know-it-all and critical.

I’m vain, greedy and very, very fat.

It’s a horrid combination and it is sabotaging my health and my confidence, to the extent that I often wonder why my friends bother with me.

Did you ever ask them, R4? I bet they see qualities in you that you discount.

I'm rich and generous with college frat boys.

R5, I know that people think I’m a good person. I’ve had friends sincerely tell me that I should be a therapist or a priest because people find it easy to talk to me. People think I’m funny and enjoy my company. I have lots of really good close friends. I come across as being confident. I’m a decent person and someone my friends can turn to when they are in trouble.

But for all that, when I see myself in the mirror and see what other people see, I don’t think I deserve their respect.

"But for all that, when I see myself in the mirror and see what other people see, I don’t think I deserve their respect."

Therapy, hon. Lots of it. Why haven't you gone?

R8, I would think I deserved therapy if I actually looked at myself in the mirror and liked what I saw. I’m very fat and it means that I never look smartly dressed. I hate the clothes I wear. I’m going to a wedding in a few weeks, and have been asked to give a toast. I started worrying in February about how I would look and what I would wear. I still don’t know.

The only time I had therapy was to address my weigh issues, and it wasn’t much help.

In any case, I am not unhappy most of the time. I compartmentalise. I have a decent job and I know I am a good person. I know that people seek my advice and trust my judgment. I have lots of people who love me, and I know people see the good in me, even if I am not sure how. Things could be worse.

R9 I have three words for you. Ozempic, Wegovy, and Mounjaro.

I’m a misanthrope.

Angry young men driving loud, fast vehicles with a love for guns. I don't know any of them but it would be a nightmare if I did.

My brain thinks of silly shit to say in any situation, but I work in Trauma care.