FFA18

if i’m honest, the first hundred pounds i gained was accidental. i just let myself go without thinking about it.

so, for starters, here’s how to accidentally gain 100lbs:

wake up, you’re off work with a disabling injury, so you have all the free time in the world. hell, wake up at noon if you want to! but don’t worry, breakfast can be any time you want it to be. make yourself a 5-egg omlette with plenty of cheese and butter, toast with butter and honey, and a big cup of juice. sit around on your ass because you don’t want to aggravate your injury.

hell, it’s only 1:30. you have time to get high, right? what about super high? and your pantry is fully stocked because your husband is at work all day and worries about you going hungry. so you load up a pot with two servings of ramen noodles with extra toppings and an egg. god damn you are so high, so you eat a pack of cookies over the pot while it cooks. you eat the whole pot of ramen laying down on the couch, watching youtube videos.

what the hell? it’s already 8pm and you haven’t moved all day? shit. might be time to get outside for the first time today. your high has worn off and the sun has set, plus you just moved to rural suburbs from the city. so, naturally, you drive everywhere. hell, if you’re already driving, might as well hit up a drive-through. might as well get extra just in case you get hungry tomorrow, because you’ll definitely eat it tomorrow right? not all at once sitting in the driveway of your house?

now it’s time for a little midnight toke’n’snack. you can’t fall asleep without weed anymore, nor can you fall asleep without at least a little ice cream. so you eat half a pint of phish food and pass out without a care in the world.

wake up at noon again. shit, you’re bloated. you shouldn’t be hungry but you are. you decide to “treat yourself” (what else do you do nowadays??) to a breakfast sandwich and a walk around a park to actually leave the house. this turns into eating two bacon egg and cheese bagels in a park in sweatpants that are slowly growing skin-tight with every passing day. this has been your routine for a month and you’ve probably put on twenty pounds but you are deep in denial. these habits are hard to break. you haul your ass home from the park to get high on your couch again.

the next time you emerge from your cave, you are forty pounds deep. it’s a party for your husband’s friend. you paint yourself into a sundress that used to fit flowy and make an appearance. people make comments about marriage treating you well and you brush them off. you’re just in a rut right now and when you get back to work it’ll be better. you hog out on the cake and hors d’oeuvres because you’re so used to eating like a monster you can’t stop yourself. you ask your husband to stop at taco bell on the way home because you’re “hungry” (code for not stuffed to the gills) and he obliges because he loves you.

you feel constantly bloated and your belly is never flat anymore, which you blame on your constant binging. but when your pants don’t fit, you haven’t gained weight, you’re just puffy. you order the next size up just to be comfortable. you go to an all you can eat buffet with your husband and shock even yourself with how much you can put away. have you always been able to eat a full pizza?

getting stoned first thing in the morning and last thing at night and forgetting how much you’re eating/ eating just for texture /eating until you feel “full” (stuffed) is the defining feature of your leave from work. you come back 56 pounds deep and in deep denial. this is when your weight hits a nosedive. you are back to exerting yourself somewhat at work so you feel justified in doubling your food intake, even though the math doesn’t add up. you stop on your way home from work at the five guys on the way. you deserve a second dinner you “worked”.

before you know it, you’re sprouting your first ever stretch marks. this is when denial falls away and you realize: holy shit i got really fat. you got married in a small covid friendly ceremony two years ago at under 200lbs, you’re now planning your bigger, public wedding pushing 270. you desperately try to work out. you cut out weed, or you try to. but old habits die hard, and you can’t stand feeling hungry anymore. it takes under a month to pile on fifteen more pounds, even though you desperately don’t want to. you suddenly feel every pound youve been ignoring. you feel like a whale. it feels… good? you look in the mirror. it’s sexy? you like it? what the fuck????

wires are crossed in your head. the belly you’ve spent months sucking in is suddenly the hottest thing ever. your boobs are huge!! yay!! you feel sexy and a little naughty for wanting more. so you secretly post online about it in the dead of night. it doesn’t take long to tell your husband what you want; what you need. he doesn’t understand but says go for it. floodgates open. you balloon. 300 comes naturally.