Giving up

I can't do this anymore. If I wake up fat tomorrow I will kill myself. I don't know how to live a happy life while I'm lugging around 64 extra pounds. NO! I didn't just gain weight. I've been overweight my entire life. It wasn't until I moved in with my dad that I started to feel like I was so disgustingly fat. He's constantly reminding me that I'm putting on weight or that I'm overweight. I hate him so bad. He does nothing to help me but he wants to comment on my physical appearance. I have to do w/e I have to in order to keep paying for school and including sleeping with dirty disgusting old men to make my tuition payments. I want to be dead so bad... My dad heard me throwing up one night and the next morning I woke up and he says "you know you're losing weight... keep it up." So I did... then I started to see the enamel on my teeth wearing thin so I stopped. I lost 15lbs with bulimia and it clearly isn't enough. I want to die so badly.. I live in the city where skinny isn't skinny enough and I am by medical definition morbidly obese. The more I think about losing weight the more depressed I feel and when I stop thinking about it and I'm happy some thin little woman walks down the street or flashes on a commercial and I'm instantly reminded.

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  • There isn't enough space here to address all the issues you raised, so all I'll tell you is this: please don't give up on yourself and please don't harm yourself. Medical definitions are necessarily limited, and (unfortunately) limiting, but they don't capture the essence or the worth of a human being, because they can't. And our parents, in some misguided (no matter how well-intentioned) effort to motivate, can and often will do irreparable damage to us. You don't say how old you are, but you express yourself with a clarity that suggests maturity that defies age, so you may have to become your own parent, at least with respect to the matters of self-esteem and self-respect. And also with respect to treatment. Whether or not you agree, you need to visit a physician, if you have one that you like. If you don't, talk to people you know and get recommendations: find somebody that "loves" their doctor and go see him or her. Begin with a generalist, not a specialist; somebody you can talk to and who can guide you through the thicket of medical procedures. You'll need bloodwork (to check to see if your weight has a medical cause), at a minimum, but there may be more testing to find out where you are and what you need. But eventually, you'll need to visit some kind of therapist, not because you want to learn to live with the weight you hate, but because you'll need to discover that your hate isn't directed at your shape or your fitness level: no, your hate is directed at you. And that HAS to change. A decent therapist can help you find a way to lift that cloud of anger and hurt and pain and chaos, and let you have a look at the sun for a change. When you've started that process, you'll understand that you needn't look like those women you see on the street. And when you've finished it, you'll understand that the world needs you, that there is too much beauty and love here to surrender it, that there is joy in things you've overlooked or forgotten about, and that you have more to offer others than you ever imagined was possible . . . and then you won't want to leave early.

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