It was my choice to stuff myself. It didn't just happen by accident. I didn't drink too much, or get carried away at a party. I didn't get so excited and turned on that I lost track. I chose to eat, and to keep eating. I got in my car and spent a day and a half finding food to stuff into my belly.
I did that.
And I took it seriously too. I pushed myself to eat more than I should. More than two people should. And even more still. I binged. Overindulged. Pigged out. Was gluttonous. All
Each day starts out with a simple goal, today I will not overindulge. Simple. Right?
I won't stuff myself until my clothes are too tight. I won't drink until I'm bloated and sloshing. I won't order or buy family size meals just for me. I won't eat an "entire" anything. I won't let my drinking cloud my judgment so that I continue to pig out until I can't move. I won't outgrow my clothes again. Not today.
And then, innocently I go through my day. I do my best to complete my tasks for th
Yesterday was a really low point for me. It seemed at every turn that I was reminded of how fat I've become. I felt huge, and disgusting, and ashamed. So of course, as soon as I was alone, I stuffed myself.
Obviously, the opposite action to take if I was truly disturbed by my size. But really, what I was feeling was alone. There I was, facing my enormous weight gain as if it mattered and my partner seemed so unaware. Not just unaware of my feelings, no, worse than that, unaware of my
I've always been fat. I know that. It's not like I ever denied it. But recently, well the past year I guess, things have changed.
My love of food, and binge eating, and an unstoppable fat fetish kept me gaining and dieting my whole adult life. Pregnancy, getting older, yeah they helped things along but I always managed to keep things in check. Under 200 pounds, that's all I really could hope for. And for decades I managed it. And then...bam!
Health issues, no longer working, old ag
It comes over me without warning, like a massive wave suddenly crashing over a calm sea. And out of the blue I begin to eat. Oh not your average three meals a day kind of eating. Not even the kind of eating that comes from boredom, stress, or any other mental or emotional malady. No, it's the kind of eating that serves only one purpose, to get bigger.
I think of a bear preparing for hibernation or a pregnant body that instinctively knows it's eating for two. This deep primal urge that say
How am I you ask? I'm fat! That's how I am.
That's all I am. That's not just how I am that's all I am. I am so huge right now. Huge. And I'm just getting bigger. It feels like I'm getting bigger by the day! I've outgrown my clothes. My belly is enormous. I am round and bloated like a ball, stretched and stiff. My tits, like the hands and my feet, are swollen and aching from hanging with all of this extra weight. I just feel like a blimp.
I'm ashamed and emb
So after 3+ days of non stop eating and drinking I finally hit that wall of shame and regret. When I'm stuffing myself it gets so exciting to see how much I can consume, how big I can get.
I just keep going and going, like in some kind of trance. I know it's too much. My clothes get tight and feel like they will burst at the seams. It gets hard to stand up straight. It starts to hurt. But do I pay attention? No! I just keep eating, and eating, and eating.
Eventually I unbutton the
Feeling utterly massive after a day of non-stop eating and drinking for the first time in ages. Between being buzzed and carrying this enormous gut in front of me I might just topple over if not careful.
I feel so huge! All I can think of is that saying "as big as a house"...well I swallowed the house and everything in it and I'm carrying it around in front of me. Luckily, everyone is so buzzed they don't even notice anything. Like the fact I unbuttoned and unzipped my my shorts half way t
"They became more and more bloated as they filled themselves with food and drink. Enormous and round they grew. Their clothes stretched so tight they began to burst at the seams. But that did not stop their voracity, they simply disengaged all fastenings and let free their bulging bodies.
Cup after cup they poured down their throats, belching loudly. Plates, piled high with sumptuous delicacies, they emptied one after another and then calling out for ever more to be served. No manner of de
So here I am again, my clothes straining to contain my huge belly. It feels so enormously bloated and hard. I just stuffed myself with more food than a person needs to eat in a day, or maybe even two. Now as the aftermath slowly sinks in I feel as if I can barely hold it up, as if I might topple over and roll back and forth on my ball gut on the floor. Part of it feels so good, part of it is so painful and disgusting. Yet still I can't help but want to touch it, just to check and make sure... is