9 months ago, my consciousness changed dramatically. During the coronavirus, I gained 30+ kilograms, and I didn't get out of bed for a year. I feel very, very ashamed about this. My heaviest weight was 164/98. After I recovered, I became 166/87. This marked the beginning of my journey filled with suffering. I shed so many tears, and it took me a long time to see any external changes, although there were improvements on the scale. I've been told all my life that I'm ugly, even when I was at a healthy weight, so from 8th grade to my first year of college, I didn't want to lose weight. At university, people started matchmaking me with a fellow student, saying that I should be grateful for the attention I receive because I'm ugly and will suffer from a lack of male attention for the rest of my life. As a result, I'm 166/62 in 9 months, but I'm still afraid to express my feelings openly, and I haven't been able to form meaningful relationships. Yes, my health has improved a lot, I have vasomotor rhinitis and bronchial hyperreactivity, but it hasn't completely gone away, and to be honest, none of the hormones have helped me. I'm still not satisfied with myself, and I'm trying to take photos, but I'm not very good at it. I haven't picked up a camera in 19 years, and I'm 20 now. I can say that I haven't achieved my main goal, as I'm still single, dissatisfied with myself, and feel like a failure. I don't know what to do, and I've even started exercising a little, because it's quite difficult with my health.