Jan '15

Hey all!

I didn’t intend to leave you all hanging this long. I usually do an update on things around about Christmas time, but some shit happened and some things have changed and I just got kind of out of this mindset for a while.

I suppose I’ll begin a little while after I last did an update. I think it was October. For weeks and probably months I was feeling like something was wrong but generally I feel like shit all over most of the time so its hard to pinpoint stuff and hard to get worried about stuff feeling bad when you’re like this, but I was actually diabetic. Well, I say was, I still am, apparently it doesn’t just go away, ever, so yeah, it finally caught up with me.

Its only type 2 and its ‘manageable’ but apparently that means changing my whole lifestyle and taking a few pills every day. I also have to check my blood sugar levels every day with this little blood glucose box thing and the doctor wants to come and take a blood sample occasionally.

It only got diagnosed because I kept complaining that my vision was getting blurry, like my eyes were always watery. Vicky looked up symptoms and it turned out I had other symptoms too, like being thirsty all the time and peeing loads and being tired too often. That made me worry because the thought of losing my eyesight really put the shits up me. I spoke with my doctor about some of my symptoms and she tested me. Vicky also badgered me into talking to her about my snoring because apparently during the night or when I’m sleeping I sometimes stop breathing and it scares her. She said that its obstructive sleep apnoea which is common in people who are ‘severely overweight’ and the best course of action was to lose weight. Failing that, as she knew I was going to ‘struggle’ with that, she recommended I got an air tank to breathe from during the night. It wasn’t very expensive and its just a mask that I have to sleep with. I thought at first that it was going to annoy me but actually it ends up feeling like it isn’t there and I sleep better anyway.

I had been warned by my doc that I was pre-diabetic before, I just never took it seriously. Now I’m forced to confront a few lifestyle changes which, I have to tell you, have been absolute hell for me.

I have had to lower the amount of sugar I’m eating. At least, that’s the idea, my diet hasn’t changed much but I have made some effort towards it with my drinks, I haven’t had as many energy drinks. My new diet is fairly similar to the old one but sadly I have lost a few stone. Not a lot and I’m still massive, though a lot of the weight I had built up before was (I think) in pockets of fluid in my legs which have gone down with the change of lifestyle, but I didn’t really have much choice since I got bullied into ‘moving’.

Apparently the worst thing I could do was to stay in bed not moving all day. My legs had terrible circulation and she told me that if I don’t start getting out of bed and walking a few paces every day, I may actually end up having them amputated. Its probably not likely but she really scared me. I haven’t really walked in 5 years or so now, and in the last 2 or 3 years I had only even stood up once or twice, so my legs are totally fucked. I think the muscles have just wasted totally. I used to have quite strong legs from carrying my bulk around all day but as soon as I stopped getting up they started wasting.

So my new regime has gone something like this since about November.

I get up about 8 for pills and instead of being woken with food, sadly I’m kind of being coerced into getting out of bed in exchange for breakfast. Which, at about 55 stone feels near enough fucking impossible every morning. I get hauled up by my aunt and we work together to get my feet down off the bed and onto the floor. We take a break and she offers me water if I need it. When I’m ready she helps me to my feet, which is easier from this bed since its higher up. I have to waddle to the end of the bed, which I hate. Every time my chest hurts, my heart thuds, I get breathless, I feel like I’ll faint, I want to puke, its just so horrible. It probably takes anything up to 1 or 2 minutes to get me there and I try to go faster because my legs hurt and I feel like they won’t hold me any longer. Then I get in the chair and she wheels me to the downstairs bathroom, which has been converted into a wet room, so there’s just a shower with a curtain and I don’t need to get into the bath anymore or into the shower cubicle. I use the toilet for a while and then get ready for a shower.

At this point I get my first reward that perks me up a bit, a slimfast milkshake. Its actually kind of a cheat. Well, a big cheat. Its whole milk rather than semi skimmed and its like 3 or 4 times bigger than its meant to be. I have to move over to the shower seat to start being cleaned. Auntie gets into my rolls and I actually have a really good clean and I enjoy it a lot more than being sponged. Vicky has done it a few times too showering with me. Doing it this way is also helping the sores and broken skin on my back and ass. I can’t do it or see it myself but we are getting it cleaner and the skin has softened up a bit. Plus, I’m not covered in my own shit anymore which really is a fucking bonus. I have a large seat that goes over the toilet and another that goes over a chemical toilet by my bed so sadly my days of peeing whenever I like are behind me. But I smell better.

When that’s done I dry off and brush my teeth. I have a few sets of massive tshirts and leggings that I get myself into. I don’t have underwear but then again I don’t really need it so whats the point. I get pushed into the living room and by then my stomach is properly growling. I’m meant to have bran flakes or muesli, fruit and a yogurt. What I actually have is a 8 slices of buttered toast, a fried breakfast of sausages, eggs, bacon and beans and if I want more, which I always do, 8 buttered crumpets and a selection of Danish pastries. Of which I select all but whichever one my aunt wants.

I watch some TV and usually go back to my room for gaming. I’m still pretty bad on my snacks during that time. I would like to say I only have a few but its pretty much constant. Crisps and chocolate mostly but if my aunt is feeling like giving into me it can be donuts or even a pizza. Lunch blends into the snackfest but I’m expected to come back into the dining room to eat. I still get whatever I want but fast food is once again off the table as it were (but I can talk more about that in a minute). I end up full enough after lunch that I stop eating for a while and usually have a nap. My stomach is still pretty fucking massive and seems to take all morning and lunch to actually get to a point where I want to stop eating. I don’t always force myself to keep eating but if the food is there it tends to get finished.

I sometimes wake up and have a few snacks, jaffa cakes, Pringles, stuff like that, before I have dinner. Again dinner is something reasonably healthy taken to extreme portion sizes and I will sit and eat until I feel ready to explode. If I go back to my room I usually get in bed and will stay there for the night, in which case I play with my huge naked belly and tits. I may have lost a little weight but they sure as hell haven’t shrunk. That’s why I think I lost it from my legs if anywhere. I still feel just as fat and love to play with it all. It gets me wet and worked up and I end up frustrated and tired, as usual. I will have plenty more snacks during the evening, cream cakes and éclairs are my weak points at the moment and ice cream if I’m allowed it.

There is sometimes supper, but it isn’t guaranteed anymore since I’m not allowed to order a takeaway without my aunt’s permission. If I’m hungry she sometimes makes me something like rice pudding or a milkshake, but probably 2-3 times a week we have a Chinese, Indian or kebab. Usually one every other day lately but more at the weekends.

I’m gradually getting back to my old diet but its going to take a while. I’m ok with having to move, as unfit as I am, because it means I get to go out of my room. We are talking of, if I can fit into it, a car journey soon to get me back out into the world. I haven’t tried yet. I don’t want to get out to the car only to find out I don’t fit. I will try eventually I’m just not ready for it yet.

Well anyway, that’s how most days go, but then there are the ‘fat’ days. My aunt goes out some mornings and if I feel like a lie in I will just get up for the toilet in my room with her help, then get back in bed. I have to plan this carefully with Vicky of course, but she usually times it about right and brings me a McDonalds breakfast. I love it so much I could marry it. I get 2 double sausage egg mcmuffins, 2 bacon egg mcmuffins, 4 hash browns, 2 trays of pancakes and 4 large milkshakes. Vicky has a thing for their breakfasts too now so we just sit and pig out. Then later on she goes out to get us both a fast food lunch. Sometimes we get a dominos delivered or something like that but she is happy to go get KFC or Burger King. Again, we eat TONS. She’s gotten so fat herself that she weighed in just after xmas at 39 stone 4. She’s adamant she won’t get any bigger but it seems a silly thing to say when I literally see her stuffing herself like I do a few times a week. We both eat cream cakes and donuts and chocolate until we feel like we’ll puke. Vicky cleans up the mess but I think auntie knows what we get up to.

Christmas dinner was amazing as usual, but this year I sat up at the table in my wheelchair. It was a chance to really let go and just eat as much as I could without feeling judged. I probably ate the usual amount, but it felt like more since I’d been eating slightly less fat and grease during the weeks leading up to xmas than I usually do. I couldn’t get up at all after xmas dinner until I was almost ready for bed, by which time I was bursting for the toilet. Not all of the family joined us this year, it was just mum, auntie, Vicky and Kate. Dad had gone to his parents for xmas and the other side of the family had done another party elsewhere which caused a couple of cross words but its only one year out of dozens that its happened. Mum is still the same old mum thankfully and is just pleased to see me when she does. Kate seemed to have totally forgotten about her band as she seemed quite happy eating lots of everything anyway. I’d say she’s gotten fat again. Probably about 15 stone. Hard to guess, and she won’t tell. We all got our own xmas pudding this year, mine and Vicky’s were the biggest which I certainly didn’t complain about. By the time we were done I was in a total food coma.

So here I am, back in bed, gorging my way through a tin of biscuits and a tub of ice cream before going to sleep. Ironically even though I’m now technically seriously ill, I kind of feel better. Just life in general is starting to pick up again and I haven’t even had to really diet, just slow down a bit on the stuff that was definitely going to kill me. I mean, maybe it still will, but I’d like that to be a bit later on. Vicky will be here in the morning and I am fucking knackered from all this walking so I’m going to get to sleep for now and do another update soon.

Love love love

x-Ali-x