"Not good enough."

If there's one phrase that's been an underlying motif in my life, it's that. I'll meet people, I'll be fine to hang out with until someone better (better looking, more popular, whatever) comes along...then I'm not good enough. I'll support people when they're new and starting...then they become successful, and I'm not good enough. Until I settled in my current relationship, I'd play house on the Internet (another way of saying "long distance relationship) with someone...then when my beau at the time met someone closer, I wasn't good enough.

I can keep going on.

I grew up just not thinking that I was worth it, that I had any human value to merit my existence. I drew, but few people commented. I was, at best, good for a fav-click, right click-save, and fap. That's it. When I made chowdown videos on Youtube, I'd get thousands of hits and multiple likes, but few actual comments. I'd put things up on Xtube and Xhamster....and you get the idea.

I'm not worth it. I'm okay to provide masturbation material for strangers, but to talk to me? Not at all--not even as a very well flushed out roleplaying account, essentially. I existed to create material for people to jack off to, but the person under it all was largely worthless to the people comsuming the material.

So I recently approached an artist about a commission. He's done pieces for me before, told me that he's used my Youtube channel for reference material, and even asked me to talk to him about December work when his November load was full. I told him what I wanted, and got a rejection.

Not good enough.

What followed was a patronizing and condescending explanation. "I don't draw massively obese or hyper fats." Never mind that on his page, he drew five in the last month. "I just had a gainer friend have a heart attack, but he survived!" As someone with almost fifteen years more life experience on him, he lucked out. I've lost four friends--close and net-friend--in the last four months. And though I'm fat, I watch it. Part of growing up "not good enough" meant I ate...a lot. Food and music never gave a shit about how much of a loser I was as a kid and teenager--they were just there. They were comforting. Sit around, eat, listen to records and CDs. I grew up fat. I was always fat. I was used to seeing myself as fat. When I was twelve, I had to shop in the men's departments because I could no longer fit in boys' sized clothes. In my 30s (as some of you who know the RL person behind the keyboard), I dieted...rather I starved. And I got myself down to 215 and 200 pounds on two separate attempts...only to freak out because I didn't see the fat man I'd grown up seeing...and I shot back up to 350 pounds. So in my 40s, I've treated my weight as a maintainable condition--I stay fat within healthy borders. I monitor my bloodwork and see my doctor regularly--especially after my apnea-induced afib episode in 2008. My doctor says I'm one of the healthiest fat guys he knows. Again, those of you a little closer to the RL-dude social media have seen me bust my ass during Movember this past month--at least 30 (usually 60) minutes in the gym per day for all 30 days of the month.

I'm fat, but I balance it--not fat enough to set off a health cataclysm, but not too thin to set off an identity crisis and push my weight to the mid-300s.

But I used the tiger as my way to play just a little bit, as I used the tiger fursona to explore a LOT of things I could never do IRL because of the ramifications. I pushed the weight just a little bit beyond what I would normally have IRL--not to the point of uber and hyper obesity (which has always been the trend in fatfur circles. Again, "not good enough," I kept my characters a little more on the realistic side, which has kept me on the fringes), but a way to pretend I could get to a weight and size I *could* push my body to, but wouldn't because I know I'd be one of those dead people that friends used as cautionary tales.

But again, not good enough.

And for the past few hours, that's had me thinking. I've never been good enough for a majority of the people I've encountered through this account. Yes, I have other accounts that are far closer to the actual fat guy behind the computer, But the people I've met solely via this account largely take me for granted. I'll message out, and rarely get responses. People will message me, but it's usually for ulterior motives--like requesting nudes or a video session for them to jack off to. They get what they want, and I again cease to exist. Christ, I approached an artist (who's announcing that he's trying to make a living off his art) with money, and it wasn't good enough. I've literally begged people to interact with me on Skype, FB, and IM services, and they're all ignored save for the one or two people who feign conversation just long enough to warm me up to masturbate on cam for them.

So something snapped. Maybe, now that I've regained footing in my RL career during the past few months, I've rediscovered self esteem and a tiny little kernel of self-worth separated from this screenname. Maybe I've realized that I'm more than the life support system for a wallet or a living dispensing machine for custom pornography.

Maybe I've just gotten tired of letting people make me feel second best because I've been playing a fursona online for a few years that invites scorn and condescension. I could be a victim of my own fantasy headspace. I don't know.

However, what I do know is that I've cut off a lot of the sources for people to use me for that release. Xtube and Xhamster are locked down--all vids are private. Youtube's also locked down--all vids are now private. I'm mothballing Facebook and Twitter, and bringing a select few people over to the RL-centered accounts. I've sacked my art here with a placeholder. I left the most recent piece, so the catalyst in question can see just how "hyperfat" my request was, but once I see he's read my follow up note, I'll likely sack that too. I may restore it one day or I may not, I'm not sure. Once I've got some emotional distance, I'll see.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not going to stop drawing. I enjoy it. Art is therapeutic for me, and sharing it with people who respond to it is like my currency. It's always astounded me--that furries can always live in a perpetual poormouthing state, yet can't bother to pay artists even a few kind words for something they drew. God knows there are some who will jack off to art all night long, but leave a comment on a piece? Come on....that takes away from the night right-click-save-fap... So I'll likely keep drawing. I may put things on the other account, or I might make a new account and just let people find it. I don't know.

I don't know. I'm feeling exceptionally shitty right now. I guess I'm just at my threshold of rejection fatigue in the big picture of life, and this is how I'm dealing with it. It might be a colossal disaster or it might be a wise move I should have made years ago. Either way, it's just something I need to do. I need to start giving a shit about myself again, because I've not run into a lot of people connected to this ID who actively do it for me.