I'm so fat.
I'm getting breathless after a short walk. I need to sit for a few minutes after tackling stairs. My cardiorespiratory system has to work overtime to shift this bulk.
My belly smothers the steering wheel in my vehicle. The seat won't go further back. The seat belt has to go right under my belly, and it's getting more and more difficult to buckle in. I need a seat belt extender.
The food bill increases weekly. I need more and more to satisfy my appetite. More and more of the foods that make me happy.
It's getting harder and harder to wash myself, to reach all the nooks and crannies, to properly clean such a large surface area. Reaching is difficult and it's also exhausting. I need extra hands to help me.
My clothes keep shrinking. It's so embarrassing when my belly hangs out of my tops in public and people stare. I can't find nice clothing, and everything is baggy and elasticated.
I'm no longer comfortable going to restaurants. If they have booths, there's no chance I'll fit. Even boothless establishments tend to be cramped, and I can't move easily between the tables and chairs. There's always takeout. Leaving the house is overrated.
I break furniture; mass-produced stuff isn't designed for someone my weight. New places make me anxious because I don't know what seating they will have. Will it be the dreaded chair with the pencil-thin legs?
I have to buy 2 seats when I fly. Modern budget airlines are not accommodating of someone my size. I can't even lower the tray. I don't even dare to use a plane toilet, they are tiny. I wait until we land.
Strangers offer me dieting advice out in public. Unsolicited dieting advice. Well meaning I'm sure but I'm not stupid. I know how to lose weight. Calories in vs calories out etc etc. I just don't want to.
Its got to the point that all I want to do is watch movies and eat snacks whilst she puts her hands on me. Exploring the nooks and crannies I dutifully bathed. Fingers tracing the shape of my belly.
She makes all the struggles melt away.
