I couldn't even commit to my calorie goals for a fucking day.

I'm 340 (I was 334 last I came in here, two weeks ago, counted for a day and fucked up counting more, came back heavier than before) my calorie cut's supposed to be 2000 calories (someone said it needed to be 1500, ain't no fucking way that's happening)

Got up, made eggs and a bowl of peas with butter and a mandarin, drank calorie chocolate thing, 572. Went to doordash, brought a snack pack to keep myself fed on the road from 9 to 5, (15 salted cashews, cheese stick, another mandarin, 300 calories, ate it at noon), there was a cookie in the car so I snacked on that as I went, another 300 go home for a bit because face is flushed red and I'm feeling hungry, pound down water and another chocolate drink, another 150 calories so we're at 1322 and I finished and I was fucking cramping from my sciatica all day from how the fat shoves into my legs and I just...

Drove to a korean chicken place, got an eight wing set of onions garlic, drove to a gas station, two body armors and a pack of charleston chew minis, and inhaled three wings and a third of the chews and a bit of the drink before I was even home. Each wing looking it up was 141 calories, the charlestons were 130 and the body armor's not done but I'm not just leaving it so that's 190.

Even if I stop now, I'm at 2062. And I know me, I won't. If not the chicken I'll graze on some other shit in the house before I go to bed and I'll justify it with 'well I already failed so who cares'. I fail everything. I failed college, I failed my job, I failed drawing and WoW, I just fail and fail and fail and I want to cut my body open and rip this fat out and die from it to repent i hate myself I hate my shitty useless will I can't say no and I know the only things that will keep me out of this depressive funk I just dropped into is to eat the food and not care or do drugs

I am never going to be fit. I will fail again and again and again until I'm dead.