I was a chubby child after age 8 and continued to get bigger as I grew up. Poor eating habits, what I now know was depression, and a constant feeling of loneliness fueled my need to eat my feelings. I haven't worked out all these past issues yet, but I continue to work on them and hope someday I can get to the bottom of why I became addicted to food.
This picture is me right before surgery, at 331 lbs.
Here I am at my highest weight of 355 lbs.

I hated and avoided pictures as much as possible. I hope that posting these and looking back will help to keep me accountable. I never want to go back there again! I was not a happy fat person. I was miserable inside my layers of fat and felt like I was choking off all the life I had. But it was a "comfortable" place. Right now, it doesn't make much sense but that's the only way I can describe it. It's the only thing I knew, basically, so it was a comfort in it's own effed up way.
Then one day I finally came to the realization that I might die. No, not might. I most certainly would die before the age of 60 if I didn't do something to change. Why did it take so long to figure that out? .....................
2 comments:
I can relate! You are doing so well, though! :)
Thanks, Tina! Sorry I'm so late in commenting. :)
Post a Comment