Growing up, in a poor family, as the scapegoat of a narcissistic mother. I also thought I'd be dead by this point, so what did it matter if I lived a healthy life? I'll be gone before this becomes a problem anyway.
Then I got free, able to live my own life. I suddenly realized, it's not that I don't want to live, it's that I don't want to live the life I was given.
At my worst I weighed 425lbs now I weigh 350lbs. It still hurts to move, my knees will never recover, and I still look like an animated sack of lard. I'm going to spend the rest of my 20s trying to recover from the cards I was dealt in my teens. But for the first time in my life, I want to wake up tomorrow














