So, Hi all!
Been a long time since I wrote again, and once again I’m
left pondering where I should start, but I may as well start with what you’re
probably here to read.
I have gained weight. And a LOT of it.
When I started this recent gain last year I was kind of
worried that it was going to end as soon as I got sick or I was going to have a
heart attack or end up in hospital or something overly dramatic, but so far
nothing particularly bad has really happened.
My birthday really sucked, but I got over it. What set it
off I think was the realisation that I have been in this room without moving
off the bed for over 2 years now. I just couldn’t help but feel like I was
wasting my life. I’m 26 now and I don’t have anything to show for it except a
completely ruined body. I would probably be living the same life as a
paraplegic and be less of a drain on my family’s time and effort if I were.
I’ve been immobile for most of my 20’s now and this is my 2nd year
of self inflicted incarceration in this room. It’s also about 5 years this year
that I last had sex. All of that just sort of got to me and I got depressed so
Vicky and I got wasted. Apparently I drank 3 bottles of wine and most of a
bottle of vodka. I just wanted to die the next day, I haven’t had such a bad
hangover in ages. I was sick and rude to everyone and I feel really horrible
about it.
The last few years that I’ve been living at my aunt’s
I’ve had some rather crippling restrictions on my Easter chocolate intake, but
this year was different haha ;) I had Vicky go out and get me 2 every day for
about a month. I think there were some days I didn’t eat all of them and some
days I ate more but I lost track. I got sick of chocolate before they even
stopped selling them but I carried on eating them regardless.
She has had a few moments of doubt in all this, feeling
guilty when I have been upset about things, having a few days where she’s gone
home to be alone because we’ve just sort of fallen out, but she has been an
amazing friend to me through all this and while I’m certainly not going to go
on a diet, I can for the moment at least say I’m big enough. Just ;) haha! And
I have her to thank for most of the extra pounds I’m currently adorned with.
There has been one big change that happened last month
but had been on the cards a bit longer than that, I have a new bed. My doctor
had been making quite a few visits the last few years but as it’s dawned on her
that I’m not going to accept her help and my weight has been fairly stable, she
saw me less and less. However with this new push to gain weight I’ve had quite
a lot of changes in myself that she refused to ignore.
First of all, my size has become obviously bigger. I
mean, even I can see that my fat sticks out higher off the bed, wider and can
only really see my feet, the rest of my legs are obscured to me. I have to sit
up in order to breathe clearly too, if I lay down then the fat around my throat
and chest crushes my throat and causes me to cough and gasp. It got harder and
harder for my aunt and Vicky to roll me onto my side, and even when they did, I
still spilled onto both beds and hence made changing the sheets a nightmare. It
was so exhausting for all of us that I even vomited when my aunt was changing a
pad and I feel like I might have passed out for a moment afterwards. It was
pretty much impossible to move me and I was hating every minute of every wash,
nappy change and sheet change. That’s when my doctor visited for the first time
in a while and a good few pounds. She told me she was horrified and wanted to
get me on a supervised weight loss program, but since I wasn’t in any immediate
danger and I wasn’t cooperating with her, she eventually let it go. Apparently
my blood sugar, cholesterol and blood pressure are all worse than ever but for
whatever reason I’m still young and lucky enough not to be literally dying at
the moment. I try not to think too much about my health to be honest, though
every now and then a chest pain and a dizzy feeling startle me a bit and I get
depressed and only end up eating more, just for the wrong reasons.
Eventually while talking with myself and my aunt (as my
care giver) we all agreed to make a few changes. First of all, my aunt was
shocked to be getting the blame for my growth. She insisted that I was free to
make my own choices and she only brought me healthy meals, but my doc wasn’t
interested in that and still laid blame on her. I lied to her that I was going
to change my diet and stick to 2,000 calories a day. I don’t think she brought
it, but hey, was easier for us both to pretend. Also if she wasn’t going to
literally drag me away because of inadequate care, my bed had to change, since
I was living in what she called a nightmare hygiene scenario. It was becoming
impossible to clean me properly and impossible to move me and my mattresses
were soaked with spilled urine and sweat, my legs and ass had (and still do
have but not as bad) a lot of sores, some of which were weeping into the
mattresses too. She recommended a proper hospital style bed and told us where
to get one, though I wasn’t really paying much attention since I think I was
crashing after chatting for an hour with no sugar! Nightmare!
First of all, it’s so fucking comfy. I didn’t realise how
much worse that makeshift bed was making my back ache. And I don’t spill off
the sides because it has rails so my legs and hips don’t hurt where the skin is
stretched. It has an electric motor to raise the back so I don’t have to lean
on pillows and walls and it’s also segmented. The rear part can be changed when
I lean forward and the part under me can be changed by hoisting my legs into
the air (there is actually an attachable winching point, like the kind you see
in old movies when they want to set someone’s leg straight in a cast, I find it
hilarious for some reason. It does one leg at a time ‘cuz mine weigh an
absolute ton but it’s still really handy) and a lot of shuffling of the sheet.
Then in the middle where my ass goes it’s a bit different, there is a space
where you can slide in a bedpan! I’m still sat on pads for when I wet, since
that makes a mess no matter what I do, but its so much better for taking a
shit.
Anyhow, I had to first get into this amazing new bed. And
that wasn’t easy. It has wheels and is designed for big patients, so it got put
together in the living room and then wheeled in to my room through the sliding
doors. My Aunt, Vicky and Kate were here to help me move, and we must have
spent about half an hour sitting me upright and getting my feet on the floor.
There was no weight on my legs but they hurt so fucking
bad I don’t know how to describe it. I think all my muscle has wasted away, it
was like they were jelly and tingling and useless, I didn’t know how they’d
hold my weight. My aunt was sat back to back with me to help support me and the
sweat was just dripping off me to the point where Vicky and Kate couldn’t get a
grip on my wrists. Even I could smell the stench, even worse, I had post Maccy
Ds sweat so it was all oniony. Anyway, the plan was to get me up, step me on a
scale, have me waddle a few feet to the end of the bed and then turn me around
so I could flop down onto the new one, then it was just a matter of laying me
down.
But yeah, the scale. I wanted to know, my doctor wanted
to know, Vicky even wanted to know, and I’m sure a lot of you wanted to know.
So I got a heavy duty scale. It wasn’t cheap, but nor was the bed and this is
all supposedly to help me lose weight, so its ok ;) haha! I hadn’t stepped on a
scale probably since the hospital, unless I’m forgetting something, and I was
just about able to waddle a little back then.
But yeah, so here I am, still sat down, and after a while
and not nearly long enough, my heart still pounding and my chest still hurting,
they make me try to stand. I had my aunt heaving on my shoulders and pushing up
into my back fat, with Kate and Vicky pulling at my wrists. We built up a
heave-ho kind of a rhythm and eventually after what felt like a few minutes but
was probably closer to seconds, I was on my feet. Kind of. My legs sort of
crunched and my knees hurt so much I thought I’d broken them. I screamed but it
was muffled by the fact that I couldn’t really breathe properly. All three of
them were supporting me and I doubt I was responsible for much of my weight, I
think the only thing keeping me up to start with was my knees seemingly locking
into place. Then came the shuffling. We planned to do things as quickly as
possible because I knew my legs weren’t going to work properly. I mean, the fat
from my calves was scraping on the fucking carpet, that’s how bad I’ve gotten. I
didn’t think I’d even get off the bed without the help of firemen but I’m
pretty proud of managing to get up, let alone start to shuffle. The hardest
part was getting my first foot up off the floor enough to get on the scale, I must
have kicked it forward a few times before I got onto it. I was so exhausted I
didn’t even care about the number but I stood there with my eyes closed panting
as best I could. I could feel my skin stretching in places it hadn’t for years.
For 2 years my weight had been spread over a bed, now some of my heftier folds
were sagging down, my breasts as an example are still sore in the places they
stretched.
Then I was turned around and I just collapsed onto the
bed. I shuffled into place as soon as I could and I think I feel asleep soon
after that. I felt so sick, I got a migraine and I didn’t really recover for a
couple of days. All that kept running through my head for the first few hours
of the migraine was what Kate told me while they were taking the old bed apart.
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394 kilos.
I spent ages racking my almost dead brain trying to do
the math.
62 stone.
866 pounds.
I’m honestly astonished I’m not dead. Either from the
movement of that much blubber, or the sheer strain on my body. I guess I’m
healthier than I thought. Of course, I’m still stuffing my face, but I’m over
60 stone now, which seems like a good bracket to stay in. No danger of leaving
the bed, probably not going to die of a weight related illness tomorrow, so its
all good.
And I feel so good right now. I’m eating more or less
constantly, nothing new there, but I’m spending all my private time caressing
my flab, pinching and squeezing everything I can reach, wobbling it back and
forth, stimulating my clit as much as I can by squashing down on my massive
bloated tummy and working myself into a fever by rolling my massive, seriously
heavy breasts across my chest and even smooshing my nipples together, licking
cream off them whenever I get a chance. I’m so horny it hurts and I’m loving
it, even though I can’t reach orgasm, I’m just so turned on by my mass that I’m
quaking and convulsing and soaking my pads and through to my sheets.
I’m having what you might call a cream cake fetish right
now. I’m basically making love to cream cakes haha ;) I’m sucking éclairs like
they’re cocks, gobbling them down one after another. I’m not even counting, I’m
probably eating 10-20 cakes a day, maybe more. Depends what Vicky can get me
and she hasn’t been here as much as I’d like, she went home about 6. I’m
smearing them on my breasts and licking them clean, feeling them ‘fill’ me,
licking them gently before devouring them whole. I guess that’s the sum of my
sex life right now, I fuck cakes. Fucking hell I’m weird.
At this precise moment my stomach is suffering from an
Indian takeaway, chicken korma, madras, a large rice, nann bread, poppadoms,
onion bajhis and a tub of ice cream, which I have followed up with 6 choux buns
that have left me in a state of total bliss. I probably won’t get to sleep for
a few more hours, I will finish some coke and a tray of 12 donuts that I ate 7
of earlier, probably put away some crisps, chocolate and cookies like a good
fatty, fill myself to bursting with a 600ml double cream tub (have to hide it
in the bed with me, aunty can’t know :P so its kinda warm and probs a bit icky
now), then play with my breasts until either I fall asleep or chest hurts or I
feel sick or I get a migraine (sadly all those eventualities are as likely as
the others at this point).
I will do another update soon so you can get a better
idea of how my lifestyle has changed a bit lately, some things are different
obviously just because of the bed but there are other factors I’m too tired to
go into right now. Anyway, I need my fingers to get sticky again so see you all
laters!
Ali ~xXxXx~
