I hate weekends

I never do anything on weekends, because I get lazy and my friends too.
I hate weekends because I always eat too much.
Because my mother invites people/family.
Because I sit on my fat ass all day long, eating and watching shit on TV or the computer.
At night, it's the same as any day of the week, I ask myself "why did I mess up another day, yet again?"
tell myself that I'll do better tomorrow, that from now on my bad eating habits and lazyness are over.
Yet, every morning feels like nothing is worth making an effort. Every single day is dull and numb, so when I wake up, I wonder "what's the point ? Everything is nonsense and ugly. Everything is over and torn and destroyed and dead" and I am hopeless.

I care about the world and the people I love but I am too selfish and mostly think about my weight, my fat thighs, my bloated face and tummy, my disgusting appearance; my embarrassing body.
And I can't take it anymore, I can't take the fact that it's all about it, all about me.
I want to sink, I want to rise; I dont know; I want to sleep, I want to explode.
I want to disappear and be skin and bones.

x

ps: i put on weight again; it seems whenever i lose some, i pile up the pounds the next day.