Xmas 2012, and other things!

Hi all, Surprise, surprise, I’m fatter. A few little changes have taken place in my life, nothing major. Since I moved in with my aunt I’ve had regular visits from my doctor, though not the same GP who knew me when I was smaller and saw me do this to myself, she’s been seeing me for over a year now. In that time she’s been trying to get me to lose some weight and make some progress towards being able to walk and get some exercise so that I can be considered for weight loss surgery. I haven’t been weighed since the hospital, but like me, she knows I’ve put on a lot more weight. I can feel it in myself and how small the beds seem to be getting and she said she can tell just from looking at me that I’m considerably wider than when I first came here. She hasn’t judged me or been mean about it, which I’m really grateful for because I’m emotional enough as it is at the moment without someone drilling in how much of a pig I am. Because she’s so understanding I opened up to her about how much I’ve been eating and that I’m very much back on the junk food. She couldn’t believe the size of the portions I’ve been stuffing into myself, but my aunt showed her the kind of baking dish she has to make my food in. Anything like lasagne or pasta bake she does in a tray that’s about 3 inches deep and fills the oven side to side. And I always have other things at the same time. Because I’m bigger it’s become harder and harder for my aunt to change my pads, so now I sleep on my side, so that she can change it at night and in the morning without having to move me as much. In order to get me on my side I have a rail on the side of the bed that I can pull and she pushes from my side. It usually takes quite a few tries to get me over, then my gut just sort of folds onto the bed. I sleep better on my side anyway since my chest isn’t so crushed. I developed a lot more sores and some got quite badly infected a while back, so I get washed more often now. I was offered an assisted living nurse a few times a week but I couldn’t handle the idea of it. At the moment my aunt’s help is all I need but my doctor said that if my aunt needs more help taking care of me then it can be arranged. I also confided that I’m constantly bored, frustrated and lonely. My aunt’s suggestion to widen the doorway led to the idea that we could remove the wall between my room and the living room/hall. So a few weeks ago some of the wall was removed and two big sliding doors are now in the middle. Having the work done was so awkward. My aunt put up some temporary curtains so that the two guys who did the work couldn’t see me. I felt like a circus sideshow, even though they were only ever nice to my aunt and made no comments about me or the work they were doing. I never really saw them, but they saw the huge trays of food my aunt was bringing me, so they must have known what was going on. The only condition of the wall being open is that I have to hold it in when I need the toilet for as long as I can. If I can’t hold it then my aunt closes the doors until the next morning so that the smell doesn’t fill the whole house. I feel really horrible holding it in, it’s hard to describe, but I need to go all the time. My guts just get so bloated it actually hurts. I get a lot of diaorreha too, so sometimes I can’t hold it at all. My doctor puts that down to my diet and how quickly I eat, she thinks my body just doesn’t have time to process it. I have some medication but it just blocked me up so now I don’t take it. And my bladder hasn’t had to hold anything in about a year, so it’s been such a hard job learning to control myself again. The first week I just wet myself all day long and it hurt to try to hold it, but now I can hold it in for a few hours. I’m supposed to be losing weight again, but I’m just being a total pig. My doctor thinks that now I have less to stress and depress me I’ll eat less. She doesn’t understand that isn’t how it works with me. For example, today I woke up at about 9 when my aunt came to clean me. In the hour it took to clean me I was eating 4 buttered croissants, 4 pan au chocolate, 2 bowls of sugar puffs and 8 buttered cinnamon and raison bagels. My aunt just sees it all as routine, that I’ll never change, so rather than lecturing me or just refusing to bring me these things, she just does it anyway. She likes to make sure I’m full, and because I wasn’t, she made me a fry up while I watched some TV. Then she brought me the fry up consisting of 4 sausages, 4 rashers of bacon, 4 fried eggs, baked beans and 8 pieces of fried bread. On the side I had 8 rounds of buttered toast with jam and a big mug of tea with 2 sugars. Before I’d even finished the toast she cleared my plate and asked if I’d like anything else, to which my reply was obviously yes. By this time it was nearing lunch time so she gave me a pile of snacks, 5 packets of crisps, a multipack bag of assorted chocolate bars, a frijj milkshake and some haribo. I mentioned to my doc that I’m also very sexually frustrated because I can’t pleasure myself, but her reaction to that was less helpful. She said it was something I could look forward to doing again when I’ve lost enough weight. Given that I haven’t been able to touch myself since before I even reached 40 stone, and she now estimates that I’m around 60 stone, I don’t think that will ever happen. Because of my boredom and frustration, whenever my aunt is out I’ve been trying to contact Steve, begging him to come and sort me out, but he hasn’t come, always making excuses and saying he doesn’t want to anger my family any more. It gets so bad sometimes that I feel sick that I can’t finish myself off. I still get aroused all the time and it just depresses me and makes me cry that my pussy has to go unloved forever. Vicky is still coming over with fast food quite often, but her mum is angry with her for getting so big that she’s outgrown all her clothes. There isn’t much left in my wardrobe which fits her either. She’s also struggling to walk and breathe and she’s getting lots of colds. She seems to be ill every other week, so she has spent quite a bit more time at home. All of it in bed eating, apparently. She still has it in her mind that she’s going to end up like me and be happy about it. I’ve given up talking her out of it. When I was really bad I was going through a bottle of whiskey in a day and I’m back up to that again some days. I don’t think I’m an alcoholic, because I don’t feel any worse if I go without it, but the fact that I can put away a litre of JD in a night is pretty shocking. It’s costing too much to drink that much on a daily basis, but I find it helps me deal with the monotony and boredom as well as the aches and soreness all over my body, so until my aunt stops me I’ll be getting drunk every night I can. Xmas at my Aunt’s place was the usual affair, except I had to spend it in bed. The doors were open and my family all came in to see how I’m doing. I tried to clean myself up and look as presentable as possible, but that’s not easy when all you have to wear is a bedsheet. I was so pleased to see my cousins. Kate, who just turned 19, had put on so much weight over the summer that she got a gastric band fitted back in November. Obviously as this was her first xmas with it she was bitchy and annoyed that she couldn’t eat like everyone else, she can’t really eat anything with too much fat, so she just nibbled on her dinner and had some of her jelly that she’s allowed to eat. So far she hasn’t weighed herself apparently but she thinks she’s lost some weight. Before the operation she’d gone up to almost 20 stone. My little cousin Tim has been put on a strict diet because of his diabetes. He hates it, and because it was xmas he was allowed to pig out. Apparently he’s something like 23 stone, which for a 13 year old is just shocking. Knowing his mum and dad, I don’t think his diet will last much longer though. His mum said she was getting cravings for Chinese and Indian food, she hasn’t had any in a few weeks now, so I can see things getting back to normal at some point. Then there’s Jess, she turned 12 a few weeks ago and we had a party for her here. It says something that they had to buy 2 birthday cakes when there was only 4 kids turned up. She was weighed by her GP back in autumn and was apparently 20 stone. Given what she ate over the festive season, there is no way she didn’t put on yet more weight. Fortunately for her she’s quite tall for her age, about 5ft, but she’s still having trouble with just life in general. Getting school uniforms is near impossible for her mum, and apparently she wears through her school shoes in a couple of months. Rather than put her on a diet, which her mum thinks will mess her up (even though Tim’s on one, wtf?) she’s just tried to make life easier for her, like helping her get dressed in the mornings and helping her get her seatbelt on, things like that. Apparently she even has to help her in the shower because she’s not cleaning herself properly, she doesn’t realise that she needs to get into her folds or she goes to school smelling terrible. There was even talk of, if she gets bigger, buying her a scooter. Sometimes I despair at my own family. Vicky came over too, obviously, and she spent the most time with me, chilling in my room with me and eating chocolates and snacks. I had the doors open for lunch, but at about 3 I shat myself so the doors were closed. Vicky doesn’t mind the smell so we had dinner together as she didn’t want me to be alone. We ate so much we both just passed out in pain later in the evening. I think my aunt came in 4 times with our food, we had a whole xmas pudding each and a 500ml of double cream each. Vicky thinks she weighs about 40 stone. Looking at her I’d say she’s right. She wore a huge purple top and a pair of leggings up and over her belly, but the top rode up enough for her fat to be exposed whenever she moved. She struggles to get out of her seat the way I used to, but she seems a lot fitter than I was. Presumably because she doesn’t spend all day every day at home. She still sometimes goes out, not just in the car. She can even waddle around Asda when she as to, as she has still occasionally been coming over with desserts and treats for us to share. When we last had McDonalds, she got through 3 big mac meals and 2 boxes of nuggets, among other things. While we had some privacy on xmas I tried to get her to open up about sex, asking her why, if she’d never had it, she hadn’t ever sorted herself out before, and when I said about how I can’t play with myself anymore, she admitted that she’s been too big to reach herself for quite some time now. She has however been dating. A friend she hasn’t seen since school has been messaging her on facebook so they met up. Seems he wasn’t aware that she’d doubled in weight since leaving school, but he is either desperate or he didn’t really mind. I’m probably going to go with desperate, as bad as that may sound. He’s not good looking, at all, not that I’m judging or trying to be bitchy, he is unemployed and just looks like shit most of the time. I have only seen photos of him on facebook though, obviously. Apparently he’s really sweet to her, but they’ve done nothing as far as the bedroom is concerned. Apparently she can’t even get up his staircase as its steep and narrow, so I’m not sure how things will go between them. She still thinks she’s destined to be like me, but now she thinks he’ll be there to take care of her. She’s so stupid it makes me want to cry, but she’s also my best friend now and I can’t really be mean to her. Talking of best friends, Sarah came to see me. It was a nice surprise, though it wasn’t on xmas, it was like, 15th or something like that. Anyway she had a present for me, which turned out to be perfume, which was nice. Helps cover up the smell, but I didn’t say that to her. Apparently she gave up dieting, she’s met someone who loves her as she is, which is nice and makes a change from the usual pigs she dates. He doesn’t like her to diet since he enjoys taking her out to restaurants and out for drinks on the weekends. She said all the weight she lost got put back on in just a couple of weeks of being with him, and even more has just piled on top. She still hates being fat, but she’s kind of accepted it by the sounds of things. I think now she has someone she loves and loves her back, she can live with her huge size. She’s wearing size 30-32, her biggest ever, but doesn’t want to weigh herself, she doesn’t think that’s a productive thing to do anymore. He’s a big guy himself, a drummer for a local band though I forget the name. Apparently I met him before while drunk one night many years back. He’s built like a tank but with a huge beer belly. She said the sex is amazing but a lot of hard work since both of them are so big. The only way for him to penetrate her is in the doggy style position, missionary just doesn’t work. He wears a 50” waist in jeans and has a belly that bulges out further than that, so that and her huge belly means they can’t get close enough. She went into lots of little details though, apparently penetrative sex isn’t something they do much of. It’s usually that she gets fingered or pleasured with her toy. She said she’s blown him at least once a day since they started seeing each other, which I thought was shocking, but even if she’s not in the mood she does it for him. She swallows too, apparently because with the amount she does it, it’s just easier. She’s been sex starved for a long time, which I think has a lot to do with it too. She’s doing some admin work at the moment and said she could probably find work for me that I could do at home, if I was interested, but I told her I would probably just be lazy and not get it done, either in time or at all, because I’m just like that. I saw my mum on xmas day, she was so nice to me, she misses me I think. She also misses cooking for me and on boxing day she did my breakfast, it was soooo good. Not that my aunt isn’t an amazing cook, but my mum just really knows how I like it. I think she probably used butter instead of vegetable oil for my fry up for starters. She wants me to come home, but if I do I know she will try to control my diet. I’ve been through this before so many times now, telling them that if I don’t get what I want I will run away with a feeder, but they never really give up. I suppose I can understand it, I am virtually on the brink of death every day. Anyway mum has lost weight, she’s down to a size 28-30, which is very slim for her, but she still had some clothes left over from a few years back. And one surprise occurrence was seeing my old friend Amiee on facebook. I haven’t seen her in years but she just suddenly popped up in my people you may know section and we got chatting. She has lost soooo much weight! She’s like a model! She’s a size 12 now, which is shocking because at one stage she was massive. After I lost touch with her she said she went through some hard times and turned to food, ballooning to about 25 stone before she had a massive wake up call when her boyfriend ran off with a girl who was half her size. She lost weight on Slimming World then had an operation to tighten her loose skin, so she just looks amazing. She’s saving up to have her breasts done though, after the weight loss they’re apparently not looking how she’d like, so she wants them augmented. Apparently her surgeon can put in implants for basically the same cost as the procedure she wants, so she wants to have them enlarged. She’s a DD cup as it is, but she figured what the hell as she loves male attention. I was pretty shocked to see her like that, I hardly recognised her. It reminded me of when I had a strange lesbian crush on her. Pretty stupid, but seeing how beautiful she’s made herself now just made me feel sad for myself and the way I’ve utterly destroyed my body. She goes on holidays all the time, one of the reasons she’s acquired herself a bikini body. They don’t even make swimsuits in my size, let alone bikinis. I didn’t tell her what I weigh, just that I’m unemployed and living at my aunt’s place. I don’t have any other news at the moment, but I will update when something else happens. Sorry, I really suck with this blog. Toodles! Love love love! Ali xxXXxx

July 2012

Hi All, A few weird things have happened that I felt like sharing. First of all, I haven’t left my room in over a month now. It’s not so much that I’m physically incapable, I did go out of it for the jubilee weekend, but my aunt has a problem with my smell. It’s not something I can really help but there are two main smells. One is the sweat, and most of all the sweat that gets in my folds and sort of rots. I have a few rashes which smell bad too, and some bed sores that weep and smell even worse. This is despite getting a sponge bath every day from my aunt which can take half an hour. The other smell is something I have even less control over, and it’s the stench of shit from under me. It’s gotten gradually harder and harder for me to move and I’ve reached a point where rolling over to change my pad is so hard that I think I’ll pass out. I don’t know if I’m bigger or just more unfit, but it’s so hard that I can only manage it once a day. Because of that I’m sitting on a days worth of it most of the time. I hold it in for as long as I can but I guess because I’m constantly eating, there’s always something wanting to come out, so I can’t hold it long. This has depressed me and I’ve been eating even more because I’m upset. My cousin Vicky is unemployed at the moment and has a lot of time on her hands. She spends most of her day at home in her room eating junk food. Like me, she doesn’t have a lot of friends so she’s been spending time with me, and we’ve gotten a lot closer over the last few weeks. She reminds me so much of me before I became like this (and when I think that I’ve been bed bound for about 2 years, it seems depressing, and it feels longer). I try to warn her that when I was her size, as soon as I stopped walking I was screwed. My legs just stopped working properly and I ended up ballooning and half dead in hospital. She says she can’t diet, she’s tried and it hasn’t worked. I know how that feels and I just can’t convince her. On Saturday she came over to spend the night, sleeping on the spare mattress on the floor in my room. For the past 2 weeks my aunt had refused to buy me fast food (even though I was getting oven chips and pizzas all day, go figure) because she felt I was getting bigger again, not smaller. I can’t honestly tell anymore, it’s like I’m so big that even 5 or 10 stone is hard to see on me. Vicky had also been attempting to diet, so had gone the whole week without any herself. She usually eats fast food every day so we were both craving it badly and decided that on the Saturday we’d eat all the junk food we could, and then go back to normal. She phoned me about midday. I’d only just woken up but my aunt had already brought me a full English and two bowls of coco-pops, so I was just getting warmed up. She hadn’t eaten so she was starving, which didn’t help her decision making at the McDonald’s drive through. She asked what I wanted, I told her my usual, 2 large big mac meals, one with a chocolate shake, one with a coke, 4 double cheeseburgers and because we were being extra naughty, I asked her to get me 2 chicken mayo’s, 2 quarter pounders, a crunchie mcflurry and a smarties mcflurry. I felt at the time like I could eat a whole pig, but when she placed 2 heavy bags on my belly in front of me and put a 4 cup holder down on the table next to me, I started to think I might have bitten off more than I could chew. I’m not sure if I recall it all exactly, but I think she had a big mac meal, a quarter pounder meal, a double cheeseburger and a couple of shakes and a mcflurry. There might have been more, I can’t remember. While she was out she also picked up two 12 packs of Krispy Kremes. She ate like she’d been starved for months and while I masticated away slowly pacing myself through my piles of food she just inhaled everything in her bags. She leaned back in the chair (we were watching TV all this time, ironically, a US biggest loser) and she was sweating and breathing like she’d just been running. She sat there drinking her shakes and I could see that her clothes were tight and her jeans were digging deep into her belly. “That’s one good thing about being this big,” I said to her, “that I don’t have a waistband digging in when I’m stuffed.” She laughed and placed her hands on her gut. “I’m going to have to get changed.” She said, undoing her top button and zip and flopping her belly onto her lap, sighing with relief. As I carried on slowly eating and we watched big Americans trying to lose weight, she told me that she’d been weighed again by her GP, and she was now over 35 stone. That got me lecturing her again, trying to scare her into slowing down a bit. I told her that she wasn’t far away from where I was when I stopped being able to walk. I told her all the things she was likely to miss out on if she ended up like me. Independence, freedom, a normal sleep pattern, normal relationships, being able to go outside or travelling, holidays, sex, even being unable to masturbate anymore . . . Then she told me that she never has. Never once, apparently, had she had an orgasm. At 21 I found it hard to believe, but we talked about it. She’s never had a boyfriend and never really felt the urge to do anything to herself. Since she’d always been big through her teens it was a lot of effort anyway, I know myself. But for me there’s always been sexual reward from food. I’ve always gotten myself in the mood by swelling my stomach with junk food (even though now I can’t bring myself to climax, the urge is still there to do it). I tried to tell her how amazing it feels to orgasm, the surge of pleasure through your whole body, but she didn’t get it. She said how she wasn’t going to miss any of those things when she ended up like me because she had never really had them. She didn’t go out much, didn’t do holidays, didn’t exactly have a life to lose, and she feels like its becoming increasingly inevitable that she’ll end up like me. She said food makes her happy and she thinks that what I have going on is ideal for her and she’d swap with me any day. I can’t express the physical pain I’m in all day, she won’t listen to it, she seems to think I’m just sitting in comfort eating. Yes most of the day I suppose I’m comfortable but any movement and my sores and my back kill for hours. She doesn’t understand. I asked her if she’d ever eaten deliberately to gain weight. She said that she knows every time she eats too much that it’s going to her hips, but she happily continues to eat anyway, so in a way, yes. I told her of all the times I’d eaten just to be bigger, and the times I’d eaten to the point of being in pain just to please my feeder. I told her of the times I force fed myself out of boredom, frustration, heartache, depression . . . it was good to talk about it, for both of us I think. I didn’t really get as full as I thought I would on my McDs because I ate it so slowly. Vicky changed into stretchy leggings and a really big t-shirt and we started to think about what we wanted to eat for dinner. Pizza was all I could think of and we ended up ordering a delivery. I got 2 large pizzas, one all meats one vegetarian, some chicken dippers and some garlic bread, plus a tub of ice cream. Vicky got a large meat feast, the same sides and a different ice cream. We also started drinking around 4 and had finished off a bottle of JD by about 6. While we were eating our pizzas we got through most of a bottle of apple Bacardi and were both fairly drunk. For the rest of the evening we ate the donuts and some other junk she got from tesco like crisps and desserts, then we drunkenly decided that we should eat as much as we possibly could and ordered a Chinese delivery. I was pretty drunk by that point and I remember eating a lot, being sick once or twice and falling asleep. The next day we slept in until about 2, then Vicky went out to get us brunch. My aunt changed my pad and told me off for the bin bag full of junk food packaging she found and threw away. She changed the sheet I’d been sick onto as well. I admitted we’d gotten a bit drunk, but I don’t think she realised that mostly I’d been sick from overeating. She’s become used to me puking on myself. Sometimes I do it when I have a migraine, sometimes its just because I comfort ate something too rich or too much of something, and lots of the time it’s because I’m drunk. It’s gross but she’s good at dealing with it. Vicky got back with KFC (having not changed out of her food covered black leggings and tshirt), which I’d been dying for, and I wolfed down a bucketful and a big bottle of Pepsi. We had more snacks over the course of the afternoon and some home cooked roast chicken (which, while delicious, was eaten by 2 overfed and slightly delicate stomachs, so we didn’t eat as much as usual). Before she left, I told Vicky to take some clothes from my wardrobe. They were too big for her, but I said if she was sure that she was going to keep growing, she may just as well take them, because I’m unlikely to ever fit in them again. She tried some on and it sort of sank in I think, the idea that if she were to keep growing, she’d fill the tents that she was stood in and then eventually not wear clothes anyway. I also told her to take my vibrator from my knickers draw. I explained that it was pretty much impossible for me to use it without help, and it might even help her have her first orgasm. She was pretty reluctant to take it and nervous to even touch it but I eventually convinced her to stick it in her bag to take home with her, along with a few outfits that she liked the look of. I don’t know what I’m going to do with her, I don’t like the idea that she’s resigned to getting this big, but I do find it kind of exciting in another slightly sick and twisted way. I’m eating like crazy since the weekend, like even more than usual, I’ve just really kicked my gluttony up a gear. Vicky is planning to come over this weekend too for more of the same, which I’m really looking forward to because it was a lot of fun and I really enjoyed the company and the junk food. Anyway, I’m going to keep laying here slowly feeding myself to death and I’ll update again when something interesting happens. Love love. Ali xxx

May 2012

Hi All, So, it’s been a while. Again. I haven’t been doing much, obviously, but I did have some plans when I first came to live with my aunt. First of all, I wanted to loose some weight. Not loads, just enough that I could walk again. Then I wanted to walk around the garden, get my strength up and be able to go out. Nowhere in particular, just out. It’s been about 3 years since I’ve been out for anything other than a hospital visit and I’m dying inside just to do something with my life. I am still totally ruled by food and rather than loosing any weight, I have put some on. I haven’t been weighed since I was 50 stone and I’ve turned my back on medical help and the idea of a gastric band. However I know I’ve grown. When I was first here, even though I was weak from months of doing nothing and heart problems, I was able to stand long enough to waddle to the bathroom. I needed help getting up but I could at least move. Since a while before Christmas last year, I haven’t been able to move at all. My aunt, bless her, has taken to caring for me. She was used to looking after my gran when she was too big and old to look after herself, and she’s warmed to having me around. She takes care of me in ways that I hoped no-one would ever have to do. The basic set up of my room is that my bed is in fact 2 double beds, side by side. They’re held together by bolts (they’re the kind of beds that screw into walls so they’ve got flat panels on all sides). I can shuffle myself from one bed to the other, which, even though one leg always spills onto the other bed, allows my aunt to change the sheets. I have incontinence pads under me which she changes as and when I need it done. In order to let her change them, I roll onto my side. She cleans me each time with a wet towel and honestly, it’s the most shameful and embarrassing thing I’ve ever gone through, and it happens every day. She’s so nice about it, and never, not even after cleaning up a huge 5 pound turd, does she ever tell me to get my act together. I watch Sky+ and play my xbox during the day. That’s pretty much it. I avoid facebook, my friends all think I’m suffering some kind of illness and I don’t want them to know the truth. I haven’t been outside since I got here, so the only daylight I get is from the window across the room. I have a big TV, so that’s something. Because of my lack of activity, my body has really suffered. My back aches all the time, literally, all the fucking time. My breasts sag either side of my belly and they’re not nice to look at anymore. My belly, when I’m sat in my usual position (as I am now, back against the cushions, legs spread), goes out further than my knees. My skin is sore and in some of my deeper folds, despite the fact that my aunt cleans them daily, a sweaty, yellow pus accumulates. The skin on my outer thighs and lower back that takes most of the pressure of my weight when I’m sat, that’s dark, hard, thick, dead skin and it’s fucking gross. When it cracks it oozes fluid and the gap is really sore, and it cracks most of the time I shift from one bed to the other. The rest of my skin is spotty, stretch marked and in some places, like on my lower back where I can’t reach, I have pretty nasty sores. I find it hard to breathe most of the time, I feel hot all day while at the same time my feet always feel cold because the circulation in my legs is bad. My hair hasn’t been cut in over a year so it’s just a total mess and I only wash it when my aunt has time to bring a second wash bowl for me. The current situation is this. My parents don’t want me to go back to how I was in my flat, just a recluse with no contact except someone who was making me fatter, so I get to stay here. They pay my aunt to look after me. My aunt, considering me an adult capable of making my own decisions in life, lets me eat whatever and however much I want, and brings it to me as I ask for it. A normal day will be something like her waking me at 8 or 9 with a tray of cereal, 8 pieces of buttered toast and a glass of whole milk. She then asks me if I want anything else, which my answer is usually a fried breakfast of some kind. The usual is some eggybread with sausages but depending on my mood, could be a full fried breakfast. After that I usually get some pancakes, waffles or crumpets. Whatever I’m in the mood for. She then changes my pad, gives me a washbowl so I can do my teeth and face and if I want she goes over whatever she can reach with a flannel. For the rest of the morning she cleans and cooks around the house most days and sometimes goes out. In that time I have access to whatever I want as long as I ask for it before she goes out. I usually get a tray of cream and jam doughnuts, a cake of some sort (usually one meant for sharing with 6 or more people), crisps, chocolate, coke, biscuits, pastries, that sort of thing. The main thing she gives me to fill up on is rice pudding. She gets cheap stuff from the cash and carry, so she’s happy to just let me sit and eat a whole case of them. Usually I’ll have 2 or 3 cans along with my other snacks because I find it almost impossible to stop eating until I’m really full. For lunch, if she’s been out, she’ll phone me and ask what I want brought back. Usually I’ll ask for McDonald’s or KFC, sometimes I’ll have something else but it’s usually one of the 2. I’ll have either 2 big mac meals with shakes and 4 double cheeseburgers, or I’ll have 12 pieces, a couple of wraps, lots of fries and coke with a krushem. If she’s home, she’ll cook me whatever I ask for. Most of the time it’ll be something quick and easy, like a pair of oven pizzas and a bag of oven chips, but she often makes me 4 beef burgers if she has the time. I usually get something else as a kind of second lunch like a quiche, sausage roll or pasty or something, then I get dessert. I usually go with cake and ice cream but she sometimes gives me readymade trifles or a pack of cream cakes. I snack again in the afternoon and have my pad changed again if she has time. Dinner is around 5. I eat whatever she’s cooked and usually there’s enough to fill me up, and by now you know how much that can be. There’s almost always dessert and again, I get loads. She makes an incredible apple crumble with custard, she usually makes 2 dishes because I can eat more than one to myself. I also start drinking around dinner time, sometimes I’ll have a bottle of wine or two if we’re having something nice, if it’s just simple food I often eat beer or have jack daniels with my coke. There is more snacking followed by supper. Usually supper is a takeaway, which can be anything from Chinese, Indian or Pizza to kebabs. I usually order far too much and, being stuffed from eating all day, I end up finishing it after she’s gone to bed. Regardless of what I was drinking earlier, I always have sprits by this time of night because that seems to stop me getting a hangover. I will usually commence a self-pitying binge at this point too and have another 4 cans or so of rice pudding, which makes my stomach ache and I end up having a bad night’s sleep in considerable pain. Given that I don’t actually move much in the day, I tend to have a lot of trouble sleeping anyway, and just doze off gradually through the day between meals. I’m supposed to be loosing weight for a gastric band or gastric bypass, whatever seems the best option when I’ve gotten down to a weight where its even possible. I can’t bring myself away from the food though, so I’m just getting bigger each day. I look at my aunt and wonder why I can’t be more like her. All her life she’s eaten what she wants and she’s only about 30 stone. She doesn’t stop moving all day until she sits at the end of the day and watches TV, so I think that’s got something to do with it. Plus it doesn’t take nearly as much food to fill her up. I watch my cousins come and go from the house. It’s good to see them, but it worries me that they’re not learning from my example. I thought by being here I might scare them into taking care of themselves, but they’ve never been bigger. Tim is 13, obese, and has type 2 diabetes. Kate, who is 18, once lost a lot of weight. She got down to 15 stone a couple of years ago but has put most of it back on and is now about 18 stone again. Her sister Vicky has piled on more weight and proudly boasts, in a sick joking way, that she’s the second biggest in the family (after me, of course). She has high blood pressure and sleep apnoea and regularly gets weighed at her doctors surgery. She tells me without a care in the world that she gains weight every time she goes and last time I saw her she said she was 33 stone. She’s only 21 and she eats like I used to. She’s becoming just like I used to be and it scares me that she might end up as fat and useless as me. I hate the thought that, maybe in her mind, I’ve made it okay to be this big. I hide behind a veil of ‘I’m fine’ even though I can’t get out of bed and she just seems to think it’s acceptable to spend your whole life in bed eating yourself to death. In my opinion, the worst of my cousins is probably Jess who is only about 11, who has been allowed to eat so much crap that she’s wearing size 20 adult clothes. I dread to think what the poor girl weighs but she has trouble at school with bullying already. When they are here they get treated to so much food. I can’t tell my aunt to stop feeding them so much, it would just be too hypocritical. But I do feel like history is repeating itself with them. I see my mum regularly; she comes over to see how I’m doing. We don’t go into the fact that I can’t look after myself, and she still thinks I’m in bed all the time because I feel weak. My only lasting friend, Sarah, texts me a lot, I tell her I’m not well. I don’t want to lose her but I don’t want her to see me like this, it’s a hard balancing act. I know she is going to the gym and swimming these days, but she’s on the way down from a high of 23 stone, which she swears she’ll never weigh again. I know that’s probably not true, since she swore that at 12, 14, 17 and 20 stone before-hand. This weekend, for the Queen’s Jubilee, we had a barbeque where most of the family came around. It was a nice change for me, sort of a special occasion. At Christmas I was able to get into my gran’s old wheelchair and scoot into the dining room, where I spent most of the day on the old sofa. Since then I haven’t left the bedroom and as I’ve probably grown a fair bit, it took me, my aunt and my cousin Kate struggling for half an hour to get me standing. I was dizzy by the time I was upright and they helped me down into the chair. I felt so pathetic, especially when they both had to push me. The worst bit was when we got to the doorway, we had to stop while I scooped up a huge slab of flesh that was hanging over the side of the chair and making me too wide for the door. It was nice to be out of the bedroom again. It makes you feel like a prisoner, that you can’t even get up for a minute to stretch your legs or breathe some fresh air, but coming out this weekend was wonderful. They moved the old sofa into the conservatory so that I could sit down in the sunshine. I would have liked to go outside but we were worried that if I went down the ramp, nobody would be strong enough to push me back up it. I don’t have any clothes that fit so I was wearing a bed sheet tucked around me. It was about midday and I was starving so my aunt got me my breakfast, cereal, a box of pop tarts, 4 croissants, 4 pan au chocolates, 12 pancakes with maple syrup and a fruit salad. It was only a small breakfast because the BBQ was starting. It was a lovely day, I spent all day chatting and eating, I must have had about 10 hot dogs (lost count), I ate 5 cheeseburgers and at one point I had a huge steak and chips. No salad whatsoever, haha! I know I drank 12 bottles of beer too because I collected them all next to me. Didn’t really get drunk though. I’m back in my room now though, don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep eating like this before something bad happens again. I feel like death most days. Anyway, I’ll post another update when I remember. Love, Ali xxx