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Story Three fragments from my teenage time

ldarshortcel

ldarshortcel

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I just randomly remembered them, it's nothing special but so are most threads.

TLDR:
1. Coped by telling myself I'm not ugly by taking thousands of selfies
2. Two chads from my class sat in front of me in a bus and talked about their sex life
3. Same but the driving lesson










First one,
when I was ~15 to ~17 years old, I used to make tons of selfie. Thousands. Not because I liked my face but because I was deeply insecure and wanted to tell myself I look good. From every angle, every light effect (i.e. turning to the sun or with half of your face in the shadow). And sometimes there were some who didn't look bad.
But of course, I never was attractive. At some point I stopped and a few years later I noticed it and kind of wondered what happened.
At some days, I would make 100+ selfies in this time period, and, over years not a single one.
When I stopped doing selfies, this was the point where my teenage self unconsciously knew it was over and just resigned.


The other story was when we made a school excursion, the whole class took a bus. There were more seats than pupils, I think I was the only one who sat alone thougj. Noone next to me. The didn't mob me, I even had some ""friends"", but those "friends" all had much closer friends whom they preferred to sit next to.
Anyway, in front of me there were two guys. One of them in my courses, the other one I vaguely knew too (albeit barely more than the name).
They talked and I could listen what they said because I sat directly behind them. I think we were 17 at that time. Both were Chads/HTNs (muscular, good at sport, no glasses, etc). And they talked about their sex life. I don't remember much, but it one guy (the one who was in my courses) said he had outdoor sex with his gf, either they sneaked out of their houses or their parents knew they weren't home that night and just didn't bother.


The third is when I got my driver's license. After the end of a lesson, before driving to our homes, we always picked up the next person.
(I needed around double the lessons average people need). One day I picked someone up who was also in my class, kind of a surprise.
First blackpill: This guy and the driving instructor talked like equals or as if they knew each other or even were friends, while I was an autistic sperg who couldn't hold a conversation.
So they talked, and it kinda went in a direction that he's tired or had a long night, the instructor replied/asked and he answered something about his girlfriend (and I think riding) and at this point it was clear he talked about having sex. I didn't even knew he had a gf. At this point I realized how much more was going on behind my back than school time would lead you to think. I went to school, then did my homeworked, then ldared, stared at my phone screen surfing always the same ten webpages and rotting in my room and they had gfs and sex and went to party. From time to time I could see their in their whatsapp profile pictures how they partied.
And they did not stop doing this. I just lost contact with them after I finished school. All those experiences I never made, all those memories I missed...
Words don't start to describe it.
 
When I took my drivers test I luckily passed, but I got a panic attack so bad that I had to go to the hospital because I thought I was dying. Even though I have my license I don't have a car so I would have to essentially relearn how to drive before being able to drive on my own
 
Brutal stories. I believe all incels have had awful teenage years. I even don't remember much of them.

First story is your bluepilled self trying to understand reality.

Second is brutal. It's always awful to hear sexual stories of other people's perfect lives. I find extremely offensive and it completely ruins my day.

I failed driving test a couple of times because of anxiety, but ultimately passed and today I'm a good driver. The problem at the time were my parents. They absolutely hated the idea of lending me a car and me start to have some freedom.
 

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