I am a loser

I am the son of two losers, and the product of that failed marriage, so it might be genetic.

People around me in my life noticed that I was a loser and since loser's typically have no value, I was abused, molested or neglected depending on the person, time of day, and perhaps if a heavy dinner was involved.

I tried to shed off the stigma of being a loser. Really I did. For a brief moment in time I thought I actually had it.

When I was in high school, I joined the wrestling team. I wasn't real good. In fact, my coach later admitted he wondered what he was going to do with this fat piece of shit. But I tried and I was the only heavyweight on the team, so they sort of needed me. My Junior year I went 13 and 13. Two loser numbers right next to each other. My senior year, I had trouble making weight. You know how bad it is when you're two fat to be a heavy weight. Anyway. When it came time for districts I made weight and competed and actually one. It is one of the few real highlights of my life. I was in an away Gym, so no home crowd for me. But the entire gymnasium was chanting my nickname. "Tiny, Tiny, Tiny," quite cool. And I wound up beating the person who pinned me every other time we wrestled for the past 3 years. Afterward, even his coach congratulated me, saying that he didn't want his guy to lose, but if he had to lose he was glad it was to a class act like me. So, I thought I shed being a loser. I mean, I had a little ribbon saying first place (which my Aunt Catherine washed, that's what people do to losers) so it was proof that I wasn't a loser, I broke the cycle. Then, magically (or because I suddenly had a shit load of confidence I never had before), I became a really good wrestler. I was winning all the summer tournaments. I think I lost all of 2 matches. One because I was sleep deprived and the other because it was a guy I practiced with 800 times and when I had him in my pinning move (the Power Half Nelson is my friend) he whined and cried and the ref not only made me break the hold but awarded him a point (Bullshit) oh, I lost one other, it was bullshit too, because I showed the guy my best moves before the tournament started because he said he knew nothing of freestyle. We met in the finals, he used the knowledge against me, wrestled me to a tie, and when I tried one of my moves in overtime, he miraculously knew how to counter.

Ok. So I became a really good wrestler. I went off to college and I was still good. My Freshman year, I went 30 and 7 (I lost to 3 people, but multiple times, don't that suck. One of them was this guy from Campbell university, we got a long real well off the mat). But I won nationals and team MVP, beating out the favorite, Vince Taylor by 2 points. So, my loser days were behind me, right.

NO!! HELL NO!!!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING LOSER!!!!!!

I suppose since I was a way from home, in a healthy environment and doing quite well, my brain thought it was time to clean out some trash. Enter the dream. It was a strange dream. One that I don't know had any basis in reality or not because I don't trust repressed memories at all (Personally I think they're a crock of shit). But this one seemed so real. In my dream I was eight, I was in a pink party dress and my step father was taking me to Toys R Us even though I objected to being seen in public. But, when I woke up, did I first question if I was abused or feminized or any of that, no. My first thought was, oh, I was suppose to be a girl. I think if I didn't have that first thought, you would have never seen word one written by me on any of these sites. I mean, I questioned things before the dream, had my curiosities, fantasized and masturbated a bunch, but pretty much kept it quiet.

Remember past trash didn't help. Whether or not my step father put me in a dress or abused me sexually, I will never know. Like I said, I don't trust repressed memories and though I do have supporting evidence, it's not enough for a conviction (Like not being able to feel when I need to go poop.)

So, being a loser came back full tilt. I dropped out of school the next year after winning my second nationals (I got lucky in the finals, the guy was kicking my ass and I threw him for a pin). My knee was pretty fucked up all throughout the year, wrestling became a chore instead of fun and the Christian school and I never did see eye to eye on a lot of issues.

Within months, the weight came on, I wound up moving in with my mother against my will when my step-father way dying of throat cancer (Yay!) and there was a big split in the family.

I'm tired of the pity so I'll stop here and pick up part 2 of why I'm a loser next week.