Bad Letter Day

Sunday The Something Of May... Oh.. Fuck IT.

No worries. I'm not in a good head space to make any effort with people. my 14 year anniversary is coming up 31st May 2024 and it will probably mark the beginning of the end of us. I've had loads of whizz this weekend. Not slept. Don't even want to get my head down yet. We haven't had sex (together) since 10 March and before that now I didn't notice the same daft shit routine with me getting it. He is definitely shagging someone else or more than one because he makes it very clear that he isn't going anywhere, he loves me and this is how it will be forever. At first I just thought I was always too thirsty and now at my age and body weight having changed so drastically, I'M 41 fat and ugly he is 42 (but my excuse for deluding myself was that I've always been ugly, and more horny than him since the beginning. I was 28 and soon gained twice my body weight because I've had schizophrenia from my early 20's and self medicating on drugs, drink and dick. I just wasn't prepared for the radical changes to my image and although my personality remained more of less in tact, it was fucking hopeless trying to stay the same way as before. He was the one who put me on the medication, I needed it, was crazy suicidal pyschotic most of the time anyway. But to go from being an very sexy filthy slut who was still a bit ugly looking, skinny cock hungry slag to then ‘finding true love’ but he never had the same sort of interest in me as I did. His sex drive was always slow around me and not very interesting. Don’t get me wrong, I always showed him what we were going to be doing and got exactly what I wanted out of it in the beginning.. In my mind, he really did love me and I really did love him so I stopped shagging anyone else and ‘sacraficed’ the best sex for something I’d never had, nor wanted, before… a real boyfriend and some good loving.  And then I discovered that he would stand by me throught fat and thin as long as I wasn’t presenting as fucking mental around him anymore, they put me on heavy antipsychotic drugs, and I had to learn to adjust to my even uglier big fat looks with a body that went from a size 8 and tall 5’11 to being a big butch tall - 18 stone fucking heffa.. I am eternally grateful that he didn’t fuck me off there and then. It’s took us ten years and a few more to get to where we are right now. We used to have basic boring perfunctory shags once to twice a month. I still had the same desires of getting it more than once per day but had already kept those feelings, needs and wants stifled for years because I couldn’t carry it off anymore. I am disgusting. Can’t expect anybody to fuck me, then me being me, after the tenth year of being this overweight mess; I learned to accept myself for what I looked like but refused to except the idea of never having enough sex. So, I started instigating it more and more often. Same shit but it made me feel a littel bit better when I had it. Then it stated going downhill and he’d do it for 2 minutes, cum dead quick, like to get it over and done with. I stopped bothering to do anything special or exciting with him anymore. He’d tell me each week, come on Chasey, get bent over… then slip me a soft inch or two (of his gorgeous, when hard, beautiful, perfectly functional and fuck worthy full size hard cock which averages around the 5inch mark - I love me a bit of small penis occassionaly, turned me onto a wee fetish for ‘sissy dick sizes’ because he was too unattracted to me and too lazy to pretend to give it all to me properly. I still don’t blame him - it’s obviously one of those things and my own fault but what drives me fucking mental is he refuses to leave me. I talked myself out of the self-pity, and was convinced that I should be especially appreciative that he choose to stay with me, I need to be grateful for that and the effort on his part ot still love me. I reasoned with the younger me, the person who I used to be, that it’s about time I grow the fuck up and get over it. The older me, thinks about it too fucking much. Should love be as toxic as we are? Should he be treating me so shit and cheating on me all the time, spending my benefits and gaslighting the fuck out of me without him suffering slightly more than he already, seemingly, is? So, i decided that if he wasn’t going to fuck me anymore then he can walk out the door and leave me to ,wallow in my own shit and at least then, I will have no choice but to make peace with my own big fat pussy and maybe, just maybe, I might meet someone sexy who might fuck me occasionally so ,to speak. I do still feel in-love with my fella - honestly - I know I sound like a right freak today but its driving me insane and if I have to feel this way all the time, I might as well come off the medication and head all the voices again… I would never do that. I don’t want to go through all that shit again. My condition is stable and symptoms are minimal. I have been restraining myself from having even the mere thought of ‘hinting’ for him to see if he will let me do something. I miss sucking dick. He doesn’t even allow me that pleasure npw. I know how OBVIOUS it all sounds, so simple that he just isn’t into me and that’s so easy for me to deal with, it’s the not leaving me which is confusing the fuck out of me. I am no longer in need of anything sexually, I never cheat, wouldn’t want anyone else’s meat or to fuck a stranger, or even go out and meet someone sexy new if I wasn’t in this relationship anymore. I don’t know what the fuck I should want to do at this late stage of day. I can cope with the lies, but the cheating on me and the low self esteem of me being sexually neglected because i am too unattractive and undesirable is making me in desperate need to be off my fucking crust on drugs, just twisted up in seperate rooms away from each other both wanking, both watching porn, both just getting along fine without each other. It’s fucking sad, pathetic and just nuts. So, can you see now why I am too touchy and in need that I am even scared to start something so innocent and special as being a friend to people who I really do need.. In my life. Not just to sound off about this shituation. Not because I am desperate. Just because it’s actually harmless and might encourage me to get some guts enough to give my head a fucking wobble, believe in myself again, just by having regular, or routine conversations that don’t mean to be anything more than just friendship and banter but I just lost trust in these penpal people on this very fishy-but-a-good-distraction to find a place encouraging me to be me and do my thing, which seems to be ‘musci and writing’ apparently; I love doing those things. I do enjoy the process, I have no ambition to go down the professional route again, not at this late stage of my life, not with this fucking terribly obstructive fucking schizo affliction making me YET AGAIN unemployable because I fall into the category of an UNDESIRABLE fit for work. Just as well for me that that I have no further dreams to be more than just me, or have nothing else to acheive ahead of me so I can spend my time focussing on doing the things that I love (except sex, shagging is so far off limits I dare not turn around to see it kissing me the fuck goodbye). I like living easily, creatively, I enjoy my hobbies and they’re getting me by most of the time. I have plenty of time on my hands for giving the people who might write to me on the back of my bad-bio written in frustration on PPW. I believe that we all could be in need of something, even if htat something is nothing at all. I have no idea what it is that I am saying to get to end of this ranting ‘letter’ which I intend to publish as another newsletter this evening, in fact as soon as I have sent it. Don’t be alarmed and not to worry, I have only discussed me and my hell and haven’t once touched upon anything about you, not the tiniest mention of your distinguishing features, and this was written purposely to meet the criteria of my needs and although you may never wish to write to me ever again after me exercising my initiative and killing two birds with the same stone, I have told you so because I kind of hoped to hear from you again, with a further understanding of what it is we are really doing by putting ourselves through this type of PenPal process behavioural shit….what do we want to gain from this? Is it even worth it? And on that note I shall leave you with the url address to type in your browser and check out my blog and newsletter ‘THE DAILY CHASE’ where you can sign up and subscribe absolutely free - if you fancy receiving email newsletters from me on a fairly-daily basis. I write more than just one blog newsletter which you can easily find through Substack, if you’re even that arsed at this point. Congratulations for reading this far and as much you know about me and my world right now I think I might actually be up for it after all. If you wish to get in touch again my email address is justclingingon@gmail.com. If not, I appreciate you, Take it easy!! x