From the age 17 to 21 or so, I always weighed 125. I'm 6 feet tall or so, so I've always been really skinny. When I was doing meth at 18 I got down to 115 I think, which freaked me out. Are there enough numbers in these two sentences? 4 8 15 16 23 42.

For the last couple years I have been stuck at 135 and have been struggling to gain weight, at one point getting myself to 145 via a combination of rigorous exercise and loading myself up with an extra 2,000 calories of protien shakes every day. However if I stopped the exercise and protein shakes for even two days I'd be back down to 135.

It's easy, perhaps, to be sympathetic toward a fat person. You don't call them fat to their face, you don't make fun of them for it, but skinny people are different. Can you really be insulting a skinny person by making fun of their skinniness? Come on, they're skinny, they should be happy, right? To me, that's kind of like saying that men can't be raped. I mean, if the cock is hard, they must be enjoying it, right? Let's go with distant analogies for 500, Alex.

In short, I've always been sensitive about my skinniness. I've never been called unattractive by any member of the opposite sex who has seen me naked, but that kind of comes with the terrain: fat people might be unattractive, but no one is going to doubt their physical capability; skinny might be the attractive norm to a certain extent, but if you're a skinny dude you open yourself up to a whole world of emasculating bullshit.

Being a skinny white kid sucks, especially in a middle school and high school full of fat Mexicans who fancy themselves gangster; I was called a fag so often I'm surprised I don't have a cock in my mouth right now, as I am writing this. Even as an adult, and though it doesn't really hurt or anything it still leaves a mark, I can't tell you how many women said they felt like they'd "break" me while fucking me. Even at my job, I got told I would be expected to put in a "full man's work" as if I might not be capable of it just naturally as I am.

A lot of factors in my life have left me with the perpetual feeling that I need to measure up; my skinniness is one of them. Often I have no idea what I am trying to measure up to, and in recent years it has just turned into me setting some sort of knee-jerk vague opinion of what the high point is and shooting for that. I've been trying to gain weight, but I didn't really have a goal in mind. I assumed I'd just put on the weight in a controlled manner by building muscle and that would be it.

Apparently when I turned 25, however, my body decided it had other plans in mind. As of yesterday, without weight building exercises (I just unicycle a lot) or supplements, my body weight went over 150 pounds for the first time in my entire life. I have a little bit of a tummy. It's kind of scary and weird, but for the first time I don't really feel anxious or overly self-aware about my weight. My physical appearance, sure, but having low weight? Not so much. It's kind of cool.

Well, aside from the whole being fat thing. I guess I better start exercising and get myself back down to a svelte 135 pounds...