Fat failure

Published June 5, 2014 by Harri

TW Talking about Weight gain, compulsive eating and food issues


309 lbs.
22 stone in fucking weight.
That’s how much I weigh now. This time last year I was 15 stone. 7 stone I’ve put on and I feel like a fucking heifer. Compulsively stuffing my face regardless of whether ime hungry or not. Eating things I know I shouldn’t be because they will make me ill. I am a fat cunt and I hate myself .
Self loathing. Nothing new to me that feeling. I know it well. I loathe the fact that I can’t stop shovelling the food in my mouth when I know it will have me running for the toilet but I still eat. (I had my Gallbladder out because I had Gallstones and became fat intolerant. Go figure right!)


So today, I have spent it eating an entire box of honey hoops with one bowl of milk, 4 slices of buttered toast, 2 Diam bars, lots of coffee and tea and a shit load of more self loathing. Accompanied with a side order of stomach cramps, a freak out and an attack of hysterics.

I had to have an ECG which mean exposing my scarred breasts to a nurse who just gave me a pitying look when I finally got there and stripped off the top half. Getting there was hard bloody work, the social anxiety and panic attack was bad. Having been out once, there was no way I could walk to the school. (Thank you to my Mam for coming to the rescue and grabbing Kiddo from school.)

I want to come up with a plan that will mean I can get out walking and running again, but I am too heavy to run at the moment. So I can see Zoe Harcombe and some Blogilates coming into play. I can’t believe I have gotten this big. I can’t believe that although I am at the stage of wanting to do something, I still haven’t got the push to get me there. Being this big is hurting me, I can feel it in my knees, my back, my hips and my pelvis. The whole lower half of my body (that was previously tweaked and broken) is protesting against the weight and I don’t blame it.


I can’t love my self. I don’t understand why other people love me. I am not worthy of love or affection. I am not rotund in a happy jolly way, I am obese, hell, who am I kidding, I am morbidly obese. I still can’t get over the fact that I have put on 7st in a year. 7 fucking stone. That’s a person. A small person or a preteen.

That is fucking terrifying. “Just think positively and you’ll do this!” I wake up every morning thinking positively and then it all turns to shit… Something will set me off, I tell myself I am overreacting but still, the snowball has started and there is no stopping it until I am either exhausted or asleep. If thinking positively, getting my head in the game or even setting myself a goal, I will continue to sabotage myself. I crave foods I cannot have (the fatty foods [gallbladder] and sugary food/carbs  [insulin resistance due to PCOS]) and then do not have the energy to actually work out.

Today has just been a blah day, the laptop has been giving me shit (I have scanned it, restored it, rebooted it and have been trying to refresh it but the window for a refresh keeps disappearing), so I have been watching Orange is the New Black on my phone. I don’t think people will ever truly understand just how debilitating Mental Health Issues are. I know the sun is shining and that it would be beneficial for me to get up and get out. I know that I will feel better for it. There is that dark evil voice in the back of my head telling me that if I go, they will laugh. People will laugh at the fat woman walking down the street, trying desperately to look like she isn’t dying from the exercise.

Anyway, I am going to piss off now, think I have depressed everyone enough for one day.

A x



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