Fat Chicks and Spooky Shit

thinking about how when i move out using exclusively OF to subsidize my rent i'll basically be trapped as a growing fat girl whether i like it or not. i know for a fact i'll lose control as soon as i get that first taste of freedom to order doordash at any hour of the day, not have to worry about cleaning up my fast food bags before everyone gets home, buy a shower chair and a rolly stool to make things easier on myself, and to finally be able to make my twisted fantasies a reality. i can see it all going south so fast when i accidentally gain 100 more lbs and that fear of just how real what i’m doing to myself starts settling in. but if i wanna keep living on my own, i really have no choice but to continue gaining or how else am i gonna keep a roof over my head? and losing that comfort of binge eating and soft fat swallowing my frame would send me straight into panic. i'd be way too ashamed to move back home and reveal how i’ve been living, and i’d be too spoiled and conditioned to a mindless sedentary lifestyle being handed right to me that the thought of getting a real job would make me burst into tears.. just an endless cycle of using addiction and orgasms to drown out those feelings to make a living until i’m too big to care anymore. maybe being on my own with no one to stop me from losing control isn't the wisest decision, but isn't it sooo tempting to see what could happen?

Brianna is starting to blob out