Struggle
Hey guys new chapter, have fun.
Give me all your comments comrades
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In my last life, I was pretty fit, only slightly dropping off once I hit 35, I was used to physical activity from a young age. I played many sports, but I mainly wrestled in my youth. I still participated in my teens but I didn't compete as I was not a fan of the major weight cuts that my high school coach forced on us, for example I walked around at a solid 170 and my coaches wanted me to get down to 145 and he wouldn't allow me to wrestle up or have a wrestle off with his sons who were 170 and 160. The next weight down was 145 and that would be absurd to do, so I quit and practiced on my own since I loved the sport.
In my senior year, I was actually very good but I wasn't part of any organization but I still managed to get in some tournaments but there was no one great. Though by the time I graduated I was neck and neck with some state champions.
I went to college and majored in culinary and minored in business management, I loved to cook, mostly so I could eat it after, that's another reason I didn't like the weight cuts. Anyway, I gained a bit of weight in college from eating but even then I made sure it was good muscular weight. In my spare time, I went to the gym and lifted weights, and I also got into jujitsu. I couldn't wrestle since I wasn't on the official team, but there was a club in the school that was held in a local gym down the road.
They weren't the same, there were many differences, but at the same time, they had that odd similarity. The type that you can feel but you couldn't name exactly what it was. Almost uncanny. Long story short, I got really into it and it went well with what I knew from wrestling, soon I was top in the gym and I started to go to open competitions in the area and some pretty far. I didn't completely dominate but I won most of them pretty handily.
That was around my last year in college, along with my love for fantasy, jujitsu, and wrestling fell when I started my business. I didn't get out of shape but I wasn't as solid as I used to be. Around my second year out of college and into the business my brother started college, His girlfriend managed to get into the same college as him even though he had a massive wrestling scholarship.
My brother was an incredibly good wrestler who won the state twice and was in the national finals, He got into a very prestigious college for wrestling. His girlfriend was an incredibly smart girl. She got into the same school purely based on grades, she wanted to be a doctor. Eventually, they got a little too careless and she got pregnant, so they didn't have to drop out of college. I became almost a full-time nanny.
I don't regret it at all, but looking back that is what buried the rest of my free time. Soon though my restaurant took off, my main restaurant had 3 Michelin stars by the time I died. I had a total of 15 restaurants when I died. At the age of 37, I got diagnosed with stage 2 pancreatic cancer. It was quite the miracle I even hung on for 2 years, I tried everything I could to prolong my life as there was almost no chance of me surviving.
Though it was pretty funny, at the time of my death there was a medicine that could directly target cancerous cells and kill them without damaging the other cells and there haven't been any side effects as of yet. The only issue was that it was still in animal testing. If I had managed to survive maybe 3 more years I might have had a chance. Though there was no chance of that though
It's whatever, I already died. I went on this whole rant because I have been through a lot of pain and stress both mentally and physically while working out, and have starved myself several times for my weight, I suffered on my deathbed for two years wondering when it would end. What I am going through right now might be even worse than my deathbed.
The first 3-4 days of starvation are the worst as your body has not adjusted to the lack of food and you eat yourself inside out. Well with my mother's infinite wisdom, she decided it would be best to wait 3 days between each feeding and then have me gorge on the 4th, so her milk supply is up and can feed me more in one sitting. This is torture.
Her deranged logic is making me go insane, she's been doing this for a month now, and even with this stronger version of humans and consequently babies, I don't think I'm gonna survive. Luckily I am 5 and half months old now and babies stop breastfeeding at 6 months. These bodies probably stop sooner but I'm not gonna test it. Even with that though I don't know how these sociopaths are gonna treat me when I don't need help living.
What is worse however is when they are doing their sensual shuffle all night long, sometimes I will see that bastard man stealing my food. I don't like it but right now that's all the food I've got, so when I'm already starving then seeing your food get stolen, that is one hell of a demoralizer. I'm gonna give that bastard a beat down once this body grows big enough.
On a relative note, I do have an unsteady waddle. so if they make me fend for myself, there is a small chance of survival. Thankfully I'm pretty sure they aren't smart enough to realize babies shouldn't even be able to crawl yet. I think I have a little more time before they realize I'm not normal. I need to kick myself into gear, I very well might die. Honestly, I will probably die but if I don't do this and they make me fend for myself it will be even more likely of my death. With these fuckwads though, I have no idea what they will do.
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It has only been one more week since then and I already want to die, I am showing progress though, I now have a steady waddle. I can confidently waddle about 30 feet at a time, this has come at a price. My body is destroyed and I might soon break down and legitimately cry for the first time as a baby, it's humiliating but I can't care less at the moment.
I feel if I sleep now I might not wake, but it also might not be up to me anymore. If I wake up I'm gonna be out of commission for weeks. This was too much for this body, I even think I have a slight case of rhabdomyolysis. Soon though my body gave out and my eyelids flickered closed and I fell asleep.
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Something cool is that now with this memory I can now remember retrospectively, even if I concisely mentally note what happened I can still replay it in my head as long as it is not completely out of the limit of my senses, for example those moments when you fall asleep without realizing it I can just look back and watch what happened. Another use for this though is if I see a blur in my vision I can look back on that later while slowing down in my memory to get a better visual, but with that if something is so fast that it outpaces my senses all together I won't be able to slow it down. For example if something was so fast it seemed like it teleported next to me, even if it's path was right in front of me I wouldn't be able to get anymore info from my memory if I didn't even get a glimpse.
With that even if I didn't notice at the time as I fell asleep, looking back I noticed my mother looking at me and not even blinking as she saw my ragged form collapsed on the floor. These people are pretty disheartening to say the least, I might just lose my faith in humanity at this rate.
Just as I thought I wasn't able to move at all for a week and a half, this was not aided at all by the systematic starvation I was being subjected to. Luckily however these stronger bodies come through with save once again. A month after I collapsed I have fully recovered and even gotten better with a steady walk. It is completely baffling how these bodies can exist. I remember the majority of the health information from earth, I should have died dozens of times.
I guess I shouldn't dwell on it too much as there has been significant proof of their resilience, I will simply look into this phenomena later. For now I need to focus on practicing walking.
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I am now six and a half months old. I have been patient and made sure that my body doesn't need breast milk anymore. I probably could have done this a month ago but I only had a waddle then and I wasn't confident to survive even a day on my own like that. I wasn't sure how these neglectful people would react to the baby not needing milk anymore. Though them abandoning me seems like the most likely as they didn't even seem like they cared when I collapsed. Now though I have a steady walk, and though it is not extensive I have basic camping experience and skills, I may be able to survive at this point.
Today is the scheduled feeding time for them to restart my systematic starvation. When my mother was about to pick me up I hurriedly pointed to the flatbread they had. I still don't know for sure how they got it, they don't have a job, my father just leaves every now and then and comes back with some bread. My only theory is that my father is a skilled pickpocket and uses the stolen money to buy the bread if he doesn't just steal the bread itself.
When my mother saw my little hand pointing to the bread, she slightly scoffed. "Do you think you are too good for milk, you ungrateful little brat. She said in a paradoxical light yet harsh tone. She had a smile on her face yet I could tell that she was a little annoyed that I wanted the bread.
She probably didn't mind not having to breastfeed 'all the time' but she was a little annoyed that he wanted her bread. Completely unreasonable! She got angry at pretty much the first baby-like thing I've done. I hate these people, too bad there is no child services to call. I soon walked over to the bread and took a small piece in case they got angry.
The small amount I got was still loads more than his average daily amount of food. Today was a win, I didn't get kicked out and abandoned but I still got a lot more food than I normally would.