History of a fat kid
Ok, well, i've never done this sort of thing, so hopefully it will be a decent record of my time here. My name is Libby. I am going into my second year of college, and im about 115 pounds heavier than when I started, and thus the name Fatter Soph. Now, you may ask, what is the deal with the fatter thing? I have been very obese for my entire life. And for most of my life, I hated it. I hated being fat, I hated myself, I hated everyone else, and at times dreamed of dying. Perhaps it would be easier... Anyhow, that has changed, and I have embraced my latest round of gaining weight, and this is my story of why... etc. I am currently right around 500 and
for the rest of the summer, I have moved in with my BF and am in the middle of an experiment, which I will get into later.
Now for some history. I was fat since like... birth. Maybe earlier. Dont really know why, but I was a really fat kid long before I knew what being fat was. I had never really been aware of it. I mean, I guess I knew i was bigger that other kids, but it didn't really mean anything to me emotionally. No one bothered me, or even mentioned the fact that my body was fat. Looking back, its not hard to understand why I never really went out to play and stuff. There was lots and lots of sitting around and watching TV, because, I just did. I guess when you're fat, its harder to do things... and running and playing was more work. I didn't understand that then... It was just all I really knew... not on purpose. Sitting around a lot and munching a lot equals a fat kid.
Anyhow, the indifference of being fat kinda ended when school started, cause until then, it never bothered me at all... in fact, I didn't really realize that I was fat. Again, I knew i was bigger than other kids, but it didn't mean anything to me. But once school started, the bliss of being a kid was over. The fun poking started day one. I was six years old and off to school. A new experience. A lot of the others knew each other, but I really didn't. I was kinda off to myself cuase no one wanted to hang out with me. I was right around 100 pounds, which is pretty fat for a 6 year old. Before the end of the day, I was called Chubbs. There were " Why are you so fat" questions, comments like... skip lunch Chubbs... I felt horribly embarrassed. I just wanted to be home... where no one bothered me about it. Day one, I had realized that being with "others" meant feeling badly about myself.
When the day was over, I did what I always did: went home, plopped down by the the TV and pretty much ate until dinner. then had dinner, then probably watched TV for a while and munched on something else. This was nothing new... kind of my life to this point. . Its not like I was thinking " I want to go home and eat so I can get fatter." Its just what I did. My favorite activity was watching TV, a physically comfortable thing to do, and eating. I never started to breathe heavier watching TV, nor would I sweat, feel tired, or have that funny " I just want to sit down" feeling. It was what I had done to pass time for most of my six year life. And I was basically happy with that. I also liked eating... it was something to do that I enjoyed. There was no mental connection yet between eating too much and being fat.
But for those first few school days, I quickly realized that people had a problem with me. The fact that my body was bigger than their's was pointed out to me maybe 50 or 60 times a day. It was almost an obsession with some, to remind me of this. And hurtfully. It wasn't enough to tell me I was fat. There needed to be a digging horrible comment that went along with it.
Then came the ultimate humiliation. The first Gym Class.
Now, I had never done any of this... I was six! I had no cognative knowledge that I COULDN'T run around for an hour, nor that I would look so incredibly different from the other kids trying to do so. But I learned very early in life that Gym was the worlds best chance to to humiliate me, and if there is a hell somewhere after life, this was like... hell training camp. First of all, I couldn't do anything that the others could do. Their bodies could run and jump, and move in ways mine couldn't. Now did I know, this? no. Even sitting on the floor Indian style was hard for me. I couldn't really close my legs all the way, so I would have one like loosely out a little and I guess I looked funny doing it. I got snikkers from them for this. "She cant even sit down shes so fat." I was apparently not graceful enough getting up off the floor, so I got laughs for that.
Then came "lets see what everyone can do" trials. He called it "warm up." We had to run around the gym like 4 times then do things like jumping jacks, and such. This was the moment that the FAT I was carrying around made its effects really known to me, and first got between me and fitting in. I mean, to this point, I have never needed my body, in my 6 long years, to do anything physical. I just didn't do these things.
We all lined up on one wall, and were told to jog around the gym. We were supposed to do this 4 times. Everyone else like took off. Now, I did to, I thought, but after a few steps, I was falling behind. I tried to go faster, which I could do for a little bit, like maybe 20 steps. But very quickly, I just couldn't. Within like 30 seconds, I was absolutely dead last in the jog around the gym. That quickly became walking, then jogging a little again, then walking, then trying to walk ... like faster, then panting more, then starting to feel like I just needed to stop, but didn't dare... then just plain panic, because I just didn't know if I would actually make it to the end of this course. I was trying so hard to catch my breath and sweating bullets. I was starting the last lap when the others were finished watching this performance. The feelings during that last lap were the feelings that would be with me with almost any time I would have contact with others until college. Utter Humiliation. And not a damn thing I could do about it. I just couldn't get my body to do it. The fat on me was just too heavy for this.
I was physically exhausted, emotionally fried, it was awful. I crossed the "line," and just stood there struggling to catch my breath. My gym shorts were hanging down, my shirt clinging to my sweaty self, and for the first time, I realized that I couldn't BECAUSE I was fat... I just couldn't. And the others seized upon that and pointed it out all the time. The only thing I could do as well as they could was sit. And even then, I'm sure i was doing it wrong. The we lined up and had to do the jumping jack thing. And in my current state of panting and sweating, I could no more do a jumping jack than the man in the moon. I tried to just move my arms but the bastard teacher wouldn't stand for that. He insisted that i do it right, and made everyone aware that I wasn't. Now I had 30 teachers pointing out when I was doing it wrong, which was basically always. Or that I couldn't lift my middle for a push up, or that I couldn't do one sit up. All I NEEDED to do was just sit down for a while... please?!
From that day forward, nerves would set in at night when I'd realize that I would have to go to that place the next day. After DAY ONE, I knew in my heart that the safest place to be was by myself. The only trouble with that was that I would usually be by myself watching TV and eating. So thus, you can maybe understand how it is that I grew up as such a fat kid.
It didn't take long for me to dread school. Id say within the first month, I had figured out that I could "feel sick" on gym day, and that might get me out of it. Which worked until the school called the house and said that say "believed they saw a pattern" and brought it to my mom's attention. Now I needed doctors notes and all to miss school on gym day. Everything was like this. They were like on a mission to make me as miserable and humiliated a possible.
And this was grade school. All throughout grades 1 - 6, It just got worse, because my body got heavier and heavier, and fast. My shape, or body type made the fact that I was fat so plain to see. My body was getting softer and softer, and flabbier. I had really thick arms and legs, and i had a belly that would hang over any skirt or pants unless i kept them high over the roll, so that's what I would try to do. I And they'd laugh more and more, and I go home more and eat more, and it just went on and on.
And with that, came more and more limitation, and introspection. Looking back, I gained somewhere around 20 - 30 pounds a year. I found the file in my parents house which had all the notes from the nurses office, so I have the numbers. I had to go to the nurse like 4 times a year to see how they were doing with "helping" me. All they actually helped me with was helping me wanting to go home, hide, and eat. I called it torturing me. The school says I was 116 pounds at the start of first grade, 134 at second, 157 at third, 183 at fourth, an even 210 at fifth, 236 at sixth. Every time they would read the number off the scale, it was followed by " Libby, we really need to get a handle on this." Somewhere around 4th grade, they started calling me Boobs, becuase I had them. Not because I was developing breasts yet, real breasts, I was just developing lots of fat there, and it looked that way. And they moved and wiggled a lot, so early in the 4th grade, I started wearing bras. And heavier shirts to try and hide that I was wearing them, cuase once that cat was out of the bag, they had a field day. And this was grade school.
Junior high was no different. I went to the first gym class and just refused to do anything. I would come up with a ailment that would keep me from it, so someone figured out what I was up to. This time, though, they had a better idea. They knew that I couldn't really participate in gym class, so they came up with an empowering, self image boosting idea. When the others would go to gym, I would go to the nurse's office where she make me walk the hallways in the school. I had to put on these stupid gym clothes that really didn't fit me. The polyester shorts just wouldn't stay up over my belly and so the elastic waist band would settle under my belly making it look as big as possible, and the clingy shirt just emphasized every fold, or roll, or whatever you want to call the "curves" of my body. The humiliation from being made to walk up and down the halls in front of everyone was about as bad as is could get. There were actually a few times I thought that suicide would actually be better than showing up to do this. "This was be sure that I was getting exersize." They knew gym was worthless, cause I would sit and watch. I would either move so slow that that others would not want me on their team, or I would invent something that hurt, so I didn't have to participate. I was made to attend nutrition counseling... which is another name for "lets make the fat kid feel like dirt" time.
None of it worked. I was now that age where girls stared to like boys and boys started to like girls. Girls want to be pretty, and feel attractive, I was neither. I became more withdrawn, and by now, found food as my friend. I at times, just longed for the feeling of food in my mouth. Hormones had arrived, and so did things like breasts and hips. Now, I already had breasts and hips, but just flab. As the actual breasts, hips and girl curves arrived, I became the human flab sack. My chest was suddenly exploding. Before hormones, I was in a C cup bra, just flab. By 8th grade, I was wearing a DD,and still growing, and they never stayed where they were supposed to. Most of the time, my boobs would just move around enough to not quite be in the cup so I would regularly have muffin boobs. Every inch of my body had fat on it, but now, it was all just turning to flab. My arms ballooned, my thighs , the rolls on me all just started to hang and get super soft.
And food, what was causing all of this, was my escape. It was almost a drug. Food was my friend. It never made fun of me, never made me feel bad. It just tasted good and was always there. Puberty was in full swing, bodies were changing, and I was gaining weight faster than ever before. I started the 7th grade at 255 pounds or there abouts. I was so entrenched in this eating thing, that I was almost like an addict. I just wanted to be home alone, left alone. I would actively long to have food in my mouth.
I just just wanted to go home, get out of the tight, uncomfortable clothes, and put on a pair of super big sweats cut offs and a t shirt. My wire in my bra would usually be painful by days end, so with no one home, I could take it off and just hang. And would be no one home, so no one would see my giant boobs wobbling back and forth under my shirt, my arms and thighs jiggling, and my belly hanging out under my shirt when I stood up. I could sit on the sofa and just eat. The comfort from eating eclipsed that the food I was stuffing in to my mouth was adding the volume of fat on my body. Every morning I would struggle harder to stuff myself into clothes to go to that horrible place again. I would look at my self and hated the the fact that I was getting fatter... You may ask... if I didn't want to be fat, why did I eat so much? That was the question for the ages.
8th Grade started, and I was around 280 pounds. I hated this weighing thing to... I heard her say 280 pounds, and I just felt so huge... so humiliated... How to stop getting weighed? Then I had an idea. Lets get it over with... For the first time in my life, I hatched this funny idea to gain weight on purpose. I wanted to "show them." I wanted to get to 300 pounds and get it over with. I had been told over and over " If you're not careful, you're gonna be 300 pounds." I was tired of hearing it.
It was easier than being afraid of it, i guess. Maybe there was this thought that if I were trying to do it, I would be in control, not the other way around. Plus, our scale only went to 299, and would never again have to get weighed! So I set out for the first time in my left to intentionally make my body heavier.
I would go home every day and eat to eat... not eat just because i liked eating. I was eating with the express purpose to try and make by body heavier. I would try to eat things that might do it faster. There were days that Id eat so much, I'd feel sick. I started to be able to eat more and more, and then there were days that I'd run out of stuff to eat. These days started to come more often so I started to plan the night before what Id eat, or how I would get enough food to get to that " I can't eat another morsel" point. Id go home and finish an entire box of cereal. One day I made myself, and ate, 11 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches from after school to bed time. Lets not forget... Id always eat dinner to.
Id stash food in my room so I could eat after dinner. Soon, nothing fit. Everything was tight. I had to tear the sleeves a little on my after school stuffing t shirts. The flab just piled on.
It took 67 days. On the 67th day, I stepped on the scale in our bathroom, and for the first time, it said "0" Which meant my body weighed 300 pounds. It was a weird feeling - it was a private triumph that only I would know about. I did something I never did...I took all of my clothes off and stood in front of my mirror. I had always avoided lookingI at myself closely... But this time, I just started at my body. I was kinda revolted but it But this time, I wanted to "look" at my 300 pound body, something I rarely wanted to see. I was almost proud of it in a weird way. I had this double belly thing that just hung down, i had these large hanging fat sacks called boobs, big arms, legs, cheeks, everything. I was this gross pile of flab. I was just gross.
But... They could say all they wanted... the didn't know I was 300 pounds! I was almost giddy. Now, however, I was starting to get used to eating more, so my standard eating, was more than it used to be. All in all, I gained almost 40 pounds that year. I started the 9th grade at 337 pounds. I was becoming that person that everyone in the world stared at cuase I was so out of the norm of what a 14 year old girl should look like. Most 14 year old girls don't have flab that jiggles and sways over almost every part of her body.
High school was more of the same, but more and more withdrawn. The good part, though, was that nurse's office thing ended. I guess at the high school age, they figure you're old enough to be left alone. I don't know. I made a few friends, no one really close, but a few people that I was friendly with. But basically, I spent time with myself. I had learned to be a loaner, and enjoy solitude.
I hated my body more and more. I hated being with people more and more. By myself, I was ok. But with others around, I would have to wear clothes a certain way, an sweaters and things to hide me, and layers and stuff to try and hide a roll or something...
I would just wait long to be by myself so I could push my pants, or skirts under my belly, and just be at peace. I could unhook the bra, open a button or two and just be comfortable. I didn't have to worry about someone seeing to much of me... which was almost any of me. I didn't have to try and look a certain way, or try to somehow hide the fat on my body... which I really couldn't do anyway. And this just went on for a my first two high school years.
But then came a huge addition to my life... I could drive! I could drive in junior year. Now, I could go out places. Not that I really wanted to go anywhere, but I could. And anywhere I did have to go, I could try to park close, and keep my body out of the view of as many people as possible for the longest possible period of time. I could also go out to drive thrus and get food. I did a lot of this. I LOVED drive thru food, and could enjoy it without getting out of the car. I used to go almost every day on the way home from school and get lots of stuff to eat until dinner time. Sometimes, I would make multiple trips! I had no idea what i weighed, and didn't care. I knew I was getting bigger, cause I was always out growing stuff. But that's just what I always did... get bigger. I outgrew clothes at a pretty fast pace, and I was retreating into things like sweats and stretchy stuff, so the fact that I was gaining as much weight as I was, was slipping by me. The fat was indeed, piling on my body.
I had a true double belly that hung down. I had so no wanted that. I was almost trying to find ways to keep it from happening. I put tape once on the top roll hoping to heep it from drooping. My breasts were very large, my rear and thighs were really big, I was just a mess. I had these gigantic arms that made me look even fatter, so the fat was definitely taking over quickly. I hated to see myself. I mean, I did, but I didn't really look at myself.
Things were starting to get a little harder. Stairs, back seats in cars, things like that. I couldn't walk as fast as the others... again, looking back I can see these things. Didn't then...
Then I found out how heavy my body was becoming, and I was kinda stunned. I fell and broke my wrist. Had nothing to do with being fat, just tripped over the dog. Went to the ER, and there, found out that I was 410 pounds. I made the woman do it again. I could not possible be 410 pounds... I was. I had no idea that I had gained that much fat. I couldn't believe that number! I went home and cried. I one again disrobed in front of my mirror and really looked at my body... and started to really notice that I had become a series of folds and creases and every part of me was round. I again had this weird feeling looking at myself. Even my arms had little folds near my elbows. I stood there and got more and more depressed looking at this mountain of flab. Then, promptly wend and ate something.
Then, my aunt died. I was devastated. She was always nice to me. She was fat to, and tried really hard to make me feel OK about me. She was my best friend. Between missing her, and secretly feeling that I might die cause I was fat, I started losing weight. I ate nothing but 7 up and skittles for like a few months. I made it down to like 380 before school ended. It was the first time I had ever lost a pound in my life. Then I started to actually feel like " I can do this. I don't have to be like this forever, so I started to hatch this plan to lose all this fat in college. I would know no one, so I wouldn't have all the years of baggage with me... so that was the plan.
I got a job at the school, and left in July to get away from everything at home. I was going to work at the library until school started. I needed the money anyway, so it was my ticket out.