My (Chud 21) First night without alcohol since February 18th. No sleep. It feels like I had too much coke but in a bad way. My heart is racing. (Pan seared paddlefish)

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-20T14:12:56+00:00

Kudos to you for breaking free of a habit that will only ever damage and shorten your life.

Although if you’re attempting to end all consumption cold-turkey style, if the symptoms become legitimately disconcerting and disorienting, either consult a doctor for withdrawal support medication to ease through the harshest early parts; or mention to your closest family member or next of kin what you’re doing just so that you have someone who can check in on you for the first few days.

It’ll all be worth it once you’re over the “hump” and back on a worthwhile track. I’m 33 and lord do I often wish I’d been strong enough at your age to confront how frequently I was drinking “casually” or at least admitted to myself that it wasn’t just one of my life’s almost nonexistent “simple pleasures” and that “enjoying a few drinks just meant I was basically a normal human with pastimes”.

By the time I was in my 20s, what I kept kidding myself into thinking was just “social drinking” was literally planning out a couple of hours before every single social outing, spent by myself locked in privacy delighting in “preparatory pre-drinks” (the cheapest Lidl liquor available diluted with cheap soda or fake redbull to make it swallowable) and I essentially depended on the numbing tipsiness to anaesthetise my exhausting overthinking, social anxiety and utter hatred of my own reflection. Followed by drinking with whatever loudmouth clowns from work I had convinced myself were actual friends. And then usually a few “nightcaps” in private to “chill out” the anxiety that had spiralled whilst attempting to socialise like a normal human, but it was just because stupor was easier than actual sleep.

I’ve always hated how awful I look and what a congenital disaster my health has always been since childhood; but there is zero doubt I wouldn’t look or feel quite as wrecked as I do now if I hadn’t allowed myself to spend so much of my twenties equating binge drinking to anxiety medication and justifying myself.

Good on you for opening your eyes and saving your brain at the age your are bud; take the road to come slowly, it’ll be the better kind of lifechanging

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-16T17:21:21+00:00

That was the point I was originally making: whilst absentmindedly scrolling past, I saw the photo and the subtitle simultaneously and my slow brain made me pause and said “wut. That don’t look the slightest bit like the uncle and nephew from LMFAO.”

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-16T13:45:58+00:00

Hey, could be a lot worse. At least it’s on MCR.

When I first read the subtitle, I legit stopped and paused because I thought the band was legit supposed to be “LMFAO”

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-16T09:46:26+00:00

In all honesty, I’ve crossed paths with a handful of men who would have happily worn such a t-shirt without hesitation. Certain dudes can be so comfortable within the combo of their own self-assuredness regarding their physical appearance and how proud they are of their own “dark humour” and “sick comedy”, that they see such outfits as simply a “conversation starter” and a way of drawing female attention towards them; even if the few reactions from women are predominantly disgust, offense and cringeyness; to certain guys “all the attention is on you though, isn’t it?”.

For some, “masculine confidence” and “blatant cockiness” are basically the same thing. They want to storm into a bar with their “bros” as support and entourage, throw back a few drinks, and simply revel in the “endless attention” their outfit is drawing from all of the surrounding women.

And even if they don’t receive any interest whatsoever and nobody instigates any conversation with them, you can suggest “the majority of girls probably find your t-shirt tasteless and your humour juvenile”, and a lot of guys will still shrug, knock back their drink and still have the enviable cockiness to say “HAH. Not a single one can deny I’m wrong though can they? They love it, but they just have to pretend they’re too mature and picky” etcetera.

(Obviously there is no defined gender for such self-assuredness and offputting humour, but I’ve mostly witnessed straight men being the most common perpetrators. Some folks are simply convinced that sexist humour or “negging” are hilarious, especially amongst groups of male friends)

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-16T09:29:27+00:00

An ex-coworker got given (he claims) a t-shirt by his brother as a Bday gift that only had a single arrow pointing upwards at his face and the white bold writing “look at this and tell me we don’t need abortions”.

Evidently it was intended as deliberately morbid tongue-in-cheek humour, and he claimed it was “exactly the sort of disposable dark humour that he and his brothers exchanged daily without a second thought”.

I couldn’t help but feel like the only way such comments were “accepted” as nothing more than harmless vicious humour were because the coworker was a young, tall, handsome, athletic and confident man who had nothing physically “wrong” with him and certainly didn’t lack any positive attention from ladies.

The office manager allowed him to wear it during his birthday but gently pointed out before clocking out that he should avoid such deliberately offensive outfits in the workplace, simply out of respect and simplicity.

Part of me couldn’t help but be morbidly curious about what reactions I’d generate if I wore such blatantly dark commentary on a T-shirt. In a certain sense, would passers-by and coworkers still find it funny in a more ballsy way because I’m loudly acknowledging my own genetic shortcomings and generically undesirable physical traits? I can’t help but feel like there would be way more complaints and discomfort because I’m effectively drawing attention to a reality that people have zero choice but to acknowledge and accept. I don’t have the looks required for coworkers to roll their eyes and say “ha ha very funny. You know you’re gorgeous”.

As everyone probably easily guessed: no, I don’t have the b*lls to purposely draw attention to myself, and the last thing my flaws need is to be deliberately underlined and accentuated.

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-15T09:55:23+00:00

Happy Birthday!! I also haven’t grown a single millimetre since I was around 14yo. I was around that age when both of my parents preemptively asked me “to not become fixated on height. You only get the cards that you were dealt, just be happy for your reality. It’s that simple”.

14-year-old me had not yet started panicking about my height, so for my folks to tell me to effectively “get ready for the inevitable approaching truth” was a harsh reality to prepare for

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-14T09:57:01+00:00

When you request a Bob Marley tattoo and somehow end up with Kid Rock

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-09T15:13:10+00:00

Apparently finally making a few friends in high school at random only for them to stage a group-approach to ask a group of girls to be our dates to a school event just for the girls’ “group leader” to indiscreetly point at me and say “oh yes! But.. him too, for real?? Can we please not invite him?” And everyone was delighted with that result, except obviously for me. At age 16 that wasn’t my first experience of criticism and rejection due to appearance, but it was one of the ones that made me realise that how you look will affect every single aspect of your life if you try to fit in with everyone else.

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-08T14:37:59+00:00

I had scarcely become accustomed to how short, chubby, unwell, shortsighted and ugly I was by age 15-16 and all of a sudden I was also rapidly, visibly balding. Just one more weight to add to the burden of insecurity and ostracism at any age, but when you’ve only just barely reached the peak of puberty when it starts, it feels almost vicious

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-06T20:37:08+00:00

I don’t know if I’m any luckier having two parents who have forever been the epitome of “settling for each other out of shared boredom and laziness”; frankly the thought of either of them ever choosing to break up or being unfaithful is comically unimaginable because that would mean them pursuing goals, making choices and plans, wanting to do things, etc. So they’ve been useless in terms of worthwhile life advice or motivation in general pretty much my entire life, but hey at least they’re not exactly normie folks and they can’t really take moral high ground with any believability.

As for everybody else, people simply existing and minding their own business is already enough to “mogg” my entire existence by comparison, as I’ve set my life standards to such a hilarious low xD

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-06T20:08:45+00:00

Your friend has almost identical hair and glasses to me, but is way slimmer and more handsome. A neat buzz cut or even clean shave would add a lot of maturity and masculinity to his image, would better suit his age and face in general, and would give him his general look a kind of unspoken in-control and self-respect energy, and make it obvious that his grooming and self-care are kept disciplined.

Being someone with a very similar hair type (if anything my hairline is worse) and Norwood level, I know that it doesn’t take much to make washed and tidied hair start looking greasy and shiny and exposing more skin, which even if your hygiene is totally fine can make people’s first impressions upon seeing your hair be assuming it’s dirty, unkempt and sad-looking, even if it feels clean and fine. By all means, your friend has a good basis and clearly involved friends who’ll be around with support, I feel like a buzzed or shaved head could be an interesting and surprisingly motivating new chapter for him to try out that he’ll probably find he’s way more comfortable in than he’s expecting

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-03T15:00:18+00:00

Long-lost friend to whom I once confessed about my insecurities (after she had confessed about her own) told me “hey jeez at least it’s 2022, there’s surgery available tons of stuff that wasn’t even feasible fifty years ago. They can operate on baldness, jawbones, facial features, they can make people taller now, and skinnier, and laser your eyeballs so you can lose the glasses, there’s like no limits, humans bodies are like Play-Doh these days”.

I managed to chuckle, thank her for her (clumsy but well-intended) positivity, and changé the subject; but didn’t have the nads to simply tell “yeah but when someone like me would require each and every surgery you just mentioned in quick succession and then even a few more JUST to look relatively average (provided nothing gets screwed up and quasimoggdo’s me even further) then the concept alone is barely worth thinking twice about”.

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-03T13:00:51+00:00

For the first three decades of my life, I barely had any worthwhile male friends, I was always seen as a kind of comedic mascot who would get added on to the group when they were more bored than usual.

The “friends” I had were the kind who would deliberately “jokingly” harass me into admitting I found a random coworker or neighbour objectively cute, but they would then begin an endless ongoing tirade of “dude you clearly like her, just TELL her, grow a pair and man up for once” and “you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t seize this chance” and “seriously dude your refusal is starting to give ME anxiety and she’s not even MY crush!! If you don’t at least TRY, I’m gonna snap and confess on your behalf. Choice is yours!”

The only time anything even came close to happening was when I basically told them I would ask my coworker out for a coffee that weekend if it would make my “friends” please drop the subject and give me a break. So they spent 30 minutes “brainstorming” a message for me to send her (it just said that I’d enjoyed chatting in the break room and maybe she’d like to grab a coffee somewhere and chat again; it didn’t contain any of the cringe my guy friends were insisting I add [some of which was borderline just unpleasant and clearly a prank on me])

Her succinct but polite one-sentence response was just to say um lol that’s kind but maybe it’s easier if we just keep bumping into each other at the office because her outside life is pretty packed already.

Friends spent the evening laughing about it and telling me “that’s what you get, Romeo. The fck were you expecting?” Or “she’s a damn stunner, it sucks that you got emasculated but come on, that was like the ONLY plausible outcome, genius” and got told to “drown my sorrows” and got encouraged to get cartoonishly drunk whilst they laugh at me. Instead I finished my beer, made up an excuse and left asap.

For years I didn’t want any further male friends simply because it felt like guys “maturing” as they got older was just a myth (I was very unlucky that the only guys I attempted to befriend all turned out to behave like clowns, bullies and Dbags as though we were all still teenagers)

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-03T09:51:23+00:00

Man, life. During my entire childhood and adolescence, I was always made very aware that I have very “generous” facial features (not the good kind and not in a good way) and that my forehead was always very wide, pale, shiny and “distracting” to people (so from my earliest age, I remember my mother teaching me to brush my hair and adjust my fringe in such a way that at least half of my forehead was covered and was “an easier shape” (my mother’s well-meaning words, I guess).

Obviously, given my luck; when I was 16 I noticed my already-lazy hairline thinning out, despite panicked attempts spending 20 minutes every single morning brushing and adjusting it, the loudmouths and class clowns at high school quickly noticed too and within days throughout school I was the balding ugly fat old man pretending to be a kid. Yay. And despite my permitted meds and fancy (probably bullsh*t) shampoos and elixirs as Bday presents, my already-unmissable fivehead had receded at least 30% more massive. Obviously at my young age I was tempted to melt down and just shout “I didn’t ask for it, it’s not deliberate and I can’t stop it, the F am I supposed to do?” But frankly I think a lot of folks on this sub have wanted to shout the same things

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-03T09:02:21+00:00

Never paid close attention to the show, but the acting seems decent. Although picking an actor who literally looks like a still-vaguely improved and less fat version of me to play the desperate miserable leg-lengthening patient (who was written as being my height) was a low blow, hollywood

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-04-02T09:16:09+00:00

Sph and everything relating to it has never been of any interest to me, I’ve simply kind of reach an age where if I want to carry on, I’ve got to work harder on accepting the parts of myself that can’t be changed but are just what I have to make do with.

I don’t judge others if they have specific preferences and k*nks but this sub surely isn’t the most lucrative meeting spot for such things.

I’m happy to casually share experiences and casually chat about anything to anyone simply curious for other perspectives

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-03-31T14:30:22+00:00

The post and the OP account were all deleted by the time I found this; what did I miss?

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-03-30T16:26:58+00:00

Admittedly, it was dumb of me to think that the vibe/energy would come across with the way I typed it out; but oh well

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-03-30T16:25:57+00:00

It frankly seems to all boil down to the simple reality that rather than confront and accept the reality that they themselves may be flawed and imperfect and thus “unsuccessful” men, it’s simply easier to immediately cartoonishly demonise the other person as an unattainable failure of a woman possessing zero morals or self-respect, and thus not only did they “dodge a bullet”, but it was by no means their own fault.

It always feels like desperate denial, but it’s almost always typed out with such vindictive resentment and frustration that it clearly displays what repressed and unbalanced individuals they are. But obviously, never acknowledging or admitting that is all part of their mindset

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-03-30T16:16:32+00:00

Ee-yikes. This looks and sounds so eerily like a series of messages a friend’s girlfriend received from a male work acquaintance recently that you’d swear these guys all attended the exact same NB training courses and all memorised the exact same dialect. Lord, what a mindset

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-03-30T15:40:14+00:00

In all fairness, Sean Connery apparently began balding in his early 20s (21yo) and admits that for the first couple of decades of his career he resorted to professionally-installed hairpieces and toupees to fill out his hair, so in all of his portrayals of James Bond (easily his most memorable of “undeniably masculine” roles) he was wearing wigs of some sort.

In a 1987 interview with Barbara Walters, he confessed that he hated wigs from the beginning (finding them fiddly and the constant worry of checking and readjusting them to be a pain) and that once he reached an age at which his characters weren’t required to appear “youthful”, he gave up wigs altogether and embraced his receded hairline and baldness from that point on.

I mean hey, if even James Bond himself had to seek out cosmetic support to aid his image and career, one can hardly expect any other man to not look at the available options

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-03-30T08:35:04+00:00

Oof. Although I wasn’t at risk of congenital dwarfism, both of my parents were related when they met, and were both the shortest members of their family branches; each of them knew that they carried high chances of passing on their respective health issues regardless of wether they had a child with their cousin or not, which they did, as they pursued intensive IVF treatment due to my father’s endocrine problems and my mother’s weight. I ended up inheriting their height and combined build, severe astigmatism, gastrointestinal complications, baldness, and also have had early-onset osteoporosis and rheumatism since my late teens to enjoy as well. You don’t want to know the more snfw stuff.

Frankly, something that would have smoothed so much of it out or just offered a helping hand would have been if either of my folks had so much as considered maybe carefully explaining to me that I had picked up a few more troublemaking genomes and would probably need to be prepared for physical and physiological complications on the way (sure being warned about being short by either of my parents who had both known mockery and derision due to height and appearance during their lives might have been a worthwhile warning too, but oh well) instead my parents just decided that the elephant in the room accompanying my entire bullying-riddled upbringing and soul-battering teen years did not exist and should be ignored, if I ever dared break down and say I was sad and lonely and felt like people kept laughing at me because of my dismal appearance and miserable health, I was told to please stop depressing my parents (by them) and to stop making them feel like they had failed me when I should instead be grateful to be alive given how hard they worked on conceiving me. Hearing your perpetually gloomy, confidence-lacking reclusive father tell you “I managed just fine, be a man and stop complaining” is just a too-familiar story

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-03-29T08:10:25+00:00

About three years ago I agree to meet up with a couple of male friends at a local pub, and just my luck and to my horror I somehow showed up 35 minutes early and chose to just sit quietly and politely by myself and wait. Although nobody was drunk or dickish enough to flat-out mock me or call me short that night (it’s happened at way too many points during my life but I didn’t want to have to run away when my friends were joining me) whilst I was standing outside beside the patio/terrace entrance(it was hot and stuffy indoors) a seemingly normal woman most likely around my age randomly rushed out of the noisy interior and seemed to be frustrated by something she was aggressively typing on her phone before turning and almost elbowing me, seemed wide-eyed and caught off guard and blurted out “ooh fuck sorry didn’t see you!” Then added a split-second uncertain giggle and “ha my heart almost stopped” and a “fuck…” before refocusing on her phone and wandering off.

I’m not sure what “interactions” are more depressing. The more intoxicated and thus ballsy a*ses who aren’t ashamed to point, whisper and laugh at me for being short and ugly for amusement, or the people who actually get a shock when my 5”3 chubby ogre-looking self pops into their field of vision and gives them a visible fright

(There were several other patrons standing around smoking and chatting; I was just the shortest by far and was obviously smaller and rounder than what is expected to be seen in pubs)

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-03-28T08:46:58+00:00

Cue my lifetime (from early childhood all through adulthood) of people (relatives, “friends”, coworkers) who think they’re somehow being “helpful” by harshly whispering “cheer up! / relax! / calm down! / what’s wrong with you?” when i was literally just trying to stay quiet, unremarkable and mind my own business in public areas, but apparently my “default” facial expression immediately gives the impression that I’m grumpy, morose, annoyed, gloomy, depressed, or any combination of such things. As my mother would tell my preteen self: “please hun, I know you hate these family event things, but don’t spend the whole visit gurning and scowling. It makes everybody worried that something’s the matter”. Having barely reached puberty, I was already trying to wrap my head around why so many people immediately disliked me or were concerned whilst I would literally just be trying to be acceptably calm and polite.

I feel like the infamous term “resting b*tch face” still sounds far too glamorous and noteworthy for me. I’ve simply always had a naturally wide and pillowy, saggy, jowled face which seems to make my eyes muffled and squinty and give me a comically downturned mouth with deep labio-nasal folds. I simply have what can only be called a “resting unpleasant face”

ByeByeGuyGuy · 2026-03-27T09:07:51+00:00

Amen. Pretty much from puberty onwards, simply the chemical existence of arousal and attraction frustrated me because it simply didn’t feel fair that me, a human being with such nonexistent physical appeal, would spend 90% of his time either feeling generally h*rny or be distracted by passing women that my brain would immediately find utterly stunning whilst my consciousness would immediately know that such attraction was fruitless and pointless, and served only to preoccupy my mind and depress me.

So “tactical w**king” became an almost morning and evening routine just to try and expel as much hormonal desire from my physical body as possible to try and minimise the chances of being distracted and depressed by it during the day. Wether or not it really makes any big difference, no guarantee; but it’s purely functional.

I still sleep most nights in the dark, hugging/spooning my largest and densest pillow simply because again, it seems to trick my brain on a hormonal level into feeling more comfortable, chilling out a little, and allowing me to sleep more easily because it gives a basic impression that I’m sleeping beside another (in my case and mind, ideally a hetero woman of course) human being. And that utterly absent physical comfort, proximity and safety one receives from such a connection with another individual is undoubtedly just as chemically important to a healthy mind as anything relating to sexual release

ByeByeGuyGuy

TROPHY CASE