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Eating
I binge at night. When my family is asleep I come downstairs and I eat. I eat as much as I can. I stuff myself like a pig and it's why I'm fat. It's why my face is round and I have a double chin. It's why I can't fit into normal sized clothes or chairs with arms. Its why I can't run or go up a flight of steps without breaking into a sweat. I binge and it feels so good and it's destroying my body. Sometimes when I find a new stretch mark or outgrow another pair of pants I feel ashamed and I'll want to punish myself for being such a gross fat pig, so I'll eat even more until it hurts. I feel out of control and scared. I repulse myself and feel turned on all at the same time. I hate this about me but I don't want to stop. I want to see how far I will go. How out of control will I get? How fat? How unhealthy? I think I need help, but I want to know what will happen if I don't get it. I'm honestly terrified that I feel this way because I'm doing it. Every night I'm doing it to myself. I'm gorging on junk and watching it manifest itself all over my big heavy growing body. I'm actively ruining my body. Internally with massive doses of fat sugar and salt. I can feel my health slipping away, but what excites me is the visual manifestation of that. I can see the damage I'm doing. The shameful excessive gluttony is visible and obvious and getting worse every day. I barely recognize myself in the mirror. Who is this fat disgusting blob? I've changed so much. Grown so much. My features distorted by fat. My limbs thick and heavy to lift, my hips wide, my waist gone - overwhelmed with flab that forms tire-like rolls that hug me and hang down to my cellulite covered thighs. I'm grotesque. Obese. That is what I did. That is me and more and more it is all I am as i slip deeper and deeper into this morbid endeavor. There is so much of me now and I am almost gone.
It's been a month, have you gotten fatter?
I have. I tried to stop myself from doing this anymore. I had let myself get carried away. I read the comments on here and I let myself start to accept my fate and allow myself to eat without feeling so guilty, but it's all just a way to delude myself. What I'm doing is not ok and I have really tried over the last few weeks to stop, but I can't. I just can't. I am over 400 pounds. I don't know my exact weight because I am now too fat for my scale. The sick part is I was excited when I stepped on it and I saw it error a couple of weeks ago. I was excited to be so obese that I need a special scale! I was excited and then ashamed and embarrassed. Ashamed to be excited and embarrassed by what I've become. I am grossly, morbidly, hideously obese. People stare. People laugh. People make comments. People assume I'm some pathetic out of control pig and they are right! They are absolutely right. That is all I am now, a pathetic 400 pound pig. A pig that is one again up in the middle of the night gorging on leftover spaghetti and donuts and
How about now, a month later? Have you gotten even bigger?
I guess it's time for my monthly update. Yes, I am even bigger. I still haven't bought a new scale, so I don't know what I weigh. I know that I have never been bigger or fatter though. I am huge and swelling more every day. My life now revolves around food and stuffing myself fatter. I am so big and heavy and I look ridiculous. I'm a freak. A fat sweaty waddling freak. I can't really do much of anything normal people do anymore, so all I do is eat. I plan my days around stuffing myself. It is all I have left and it has beaten me. My body is beyond repair at this point. This is my life now. I live to eat, I eat to get fatter, and that's it. I didn't want this to be my life or maybe I did. I guess it doesn't matter anymore. I just want to eat. I want more fat, more weight, more heavy restrictive suffocating weight. I am going to keep piling more and more hideous lard onto my ridiculously obese body until I can't.
Stop saying you're a freak, you are not a freak! you are just wired differently, as am I. Some of the things you say are seriously hot, an amazing turn on. "I live to eat, eat to get fatter". You really need to find a fat loving gentleman, who will, love, care, attend to your needs. To tell you how beautiful, **, voluptuous you are as you get fatter & fatter. Enjoy you choice of lifestyle rather than loathing it, beating yourself up over it.
Dearest, I cannot give advice according to my profession, but I can give you advice as a man who went into psychology and therapy because I was a closeted FA and Feeder who knew nothing of the community; I was so disgusted in finding I lusted after obese women (the bigger and more helpless, the better) that I remained chaste well into my twenties. I consigned myself to a life lived alone.
But I met a psychologist teaching courses in sexual psychology and deviance who changed my worldview. I'll give it to you straight. Everyone goes through life looking for their bliss. And, for those of us lucky enough to find it, it becomes our reason for existing. We let it dominate us, control us, and even kill us; because it's worth it.
The problem is that other people exist. And they have formed societies that you are born into. Their values and notion of the life you're supposed to live is pressed upon you before you can walk. And you fear they will turn on you and call you an outcast if you give in to your bliss. That's what causes such turmoil in you. You have discovered your bliss, but society has vetoed it.
So you have to decide: live a long, half-assed life of constant warring with yourself whenever you see food, or find a partner with the resources and interest to help you once you're too big to help yourself; plan ahead for immobility and worsening health by finding an FA who is a physician that will help, start treating your skin now to reduce stretch marks and skin tearing, imagine the sort of room that you want to spend the rest of your life in, and then see about making it happen. Decide if you are with him to let your family see you at the sizes that are record-breaking, as you may have to move and alienate yourself from them otherwise. And finally, you're going to have to come to terms with the fact that you will die much earlier than a normal person's lifespan lasts. That is the price you will pay. Thus, plan how you wish to go. Because a number of maladies could result in a slow and agonizing death, as opposed to a decision between you and your partner involving quick euthanasia. It's a hard thing to think about. But if you're serious, and you're going to cast off every notion that society has tried to press on you, you are going to let your bliss control and kill you because you love it that much, then you will make these decisions. Until you have decided, you will be at constant war with yourself.
Your words are painfully true. I wanted to cry reading that, but also eat an entire cake and struggle to touch myself. Why am I like this? Why don't I want to stop? Why have I given up everything to ruin myself like this and why do I love it? I am on my way to exactly what you described and I know it and I hate admitting it but I want it. All of it. And it's getting close.