Amber really needs people to believe her, no matter how many times she changes the story. It doesn’t matter if she literally just stated something to the contrary, or if she has evidence in a video that contradicts her current lie. Just believe what she says, when she says it.
I love Narc “punishment.” It’s fucking hilarious how they threaten to NOT do something usually benign because they aren’t getting the feedback they think they deserve.
“I was gunna talk about MY PSYCHIATRIST but you guys are being mean and I don’t know if I can trust you all anymore 
“
Lol. Ok. Don’t talk about it. Continue being a liar that none of your viewers trust. Keep giving them reasons to think you’re full of shit. Maybe this bullshit is why no one believes your
mental things is really that scurry.
GORL PLEASE. You’re “in the 500’s” just like your “a part of Becky’s family.”
You ain’t.
She tries guilting her audience by claiming they don’t scrutinize “other Youtubers” as much as her, but her audience doesn’t hold her to the same standards as these unnamed YTers. No one holds JonTron to the same standards as Shane Dawson. No one holds Jenna Marbles to the same standards as Pewdiepie. They’re held to their own standard that they’ve set for themselves. Amber doesn’t see “other YTers” as individuals with different skill sets, talents, ethics, and personalities; she just sees people turning on cameras and making money. It’s hysterical how she can’t understand this, and yet she pulls aspects of people that she likes and she finds desirable.
But when her oTheR yOuTUbErs diatribe doesn’t yield the desired results, she starts backing into her pillowy corner and crying. Desperately bringing up her fucked up meth-family or her foster care life. When that route fails and she runs out of room to back her shelf-ass into, she cries about how her brain is broken and how fat she is. Placating her few sympathetic audience members with weigh-ins and future doctor visits, and fake promises of
“baby I’ve totally changed please come back.”
Amber. No one believes you care about others. You can’t even brush your cat or help set up an inflatable pool. And you won’t live to 30 at the rate you’re going, so this just looks extra insincere.
It’s not right. It’s not ok.
Neither is your understanding of serving sizes, but you don’t listen to people smarter and more experienced than you, so I doubt anyone cares whether or not you like it when people call you out.
She really needs people to like her. She needs to be told she’s good enough as she is, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. And every time she’s told she isn’t, that mask slips and the insecure child stuck inside hundreds of pounds of adipose tissue starts to reveal herself. She would rather people hate her for being fat, ugly, or mentally ill because she needs to believe people are as shallow as her, and it gives her a “higher ground” against her hAydUUrs.
If you’re 28 and you still haven’t gotten past “mean words” making your whole day and emotional state bad, then just tap out of life entirely.
The truth is, AmberLamborghini: you’re a bad liar and you’re not smart enough to be a good one. You’re bad at it because you lack shame and humility, and you leave evidence of your lies everywhere. You’re the kid with chocolate chip residue on their face while they try to lie to their mom about not stealing cookies. You’ll never be good enough for anyone, including yourself, because you don’t try to be good enough. No one respects you because you’re a bloated corpse who treats the world like it owes you a favor, and is bitter that everyone keeps treating you Ike your parents; disposable and annoying. You could have been better, thinner, prettier, more mentally secure, and popular. But you took the one chance you had—a chance many other people could only dream of—and you blew it. Despite life’s hard knocks early on, you didn’t toughen up and learn to weather the discomfort. You embraced the discomfort because pity and playing on people’s sympathy is easier than being inconvenienced out of a few thousand calories.
You’ll never see your mother, or your family, again. They didn't care about you as a kid, and they have even less of a reason to care now that you’re a useless adult with mObILitY IsSuEs. You’ll never get married to Becky, or anyone for that matter. You’ll never have children. You’ll never be thinner. You’ll never be a headline in someone’s LGBTQ+ magazine “ASMR.” You’ll never be a role model, an inspiration, or celebrity. You’ll be remembered as the gorl that ate herself to death and people will laugh. And then you’ll be forgotten...just like all the other Youtubers that died suddenly.
And it’s entirely your fault.
