chapter 1

You've gained weight. You don't know how much, mostly because you don't quite want to admit to yourself that you've gained weight, and therefore are avoiding the scale. But you know that your favorite jeans are almost not buttoning up anymore and your belly is beginning to spill out over them.

You're just so much hungrier now. It's a fairly typical story; you started college and moved out of your parents house. Unhealthy cooking and lots of partying added some unnecessary pounds to your figure and now you're chubby. But you can't seem to stop eating. You've started so many diets, but you'd fail each time before the day was over. A great breakfast: oats with water and coffee. A salad for lunch. But when you came home tired and hungry you seemed to dial the pizza place almost in a trance and again you would fall asleep with a belly full of pizza, garlic bread, ice cream, and god knows whatever you could get your hands on. And then there were the days where you didn't even try. You'd go out somewhere in the noon - going to class had become optional - still wearing the sweatpants you went to bed in. You'd go to the supermarket, bought whatever junk you felt like, and then went straight back to your room to spend the rest of the day stuffing your face until you couldn't move.

It's almost every night that goes like this now. For some reason you get upset if there is no junkfood in your room, and a a consequence you always have something to eat. You'll have changed into your sweats - it's the first thing you do when you come home now as they're the only thing that's sort of comfortable. Your parents are giving you a big allowance - you hate to admit it but they are rich - and you're spending a good amount of it on take out food. Today you're ordering nachos and pasta. In the 20 minutes it takes the food to get to your place you finish a bag of chips. When the food arrives, you simply sit down in the living room and dig in. When you're eating it's like you forget the world around you. The pasta dish was big enough to feed at least 2 people - spaghetti with a very rich white sauce - but you finish it quickly. You're aware of some growing pressure in your stomach but you're not nearly full yet. The nachos are delicious. You eat them one after another, your mouth is never empty. Mindlessly you rub your hard belly. Proudly it rises from over your waistband. Your tank top has given up, and a big strip of pale white flesh is visible. You're not looking down, you're thinking to yourself about how thirsty you are. With effort you manage to stand up. You can't quite finish the 2L bottle of cola but you're sure giving it a good try. It's half empty when you finally screw the lid back on. You manage to get yourself to the couch and turn the tv on. Lying on your back you use one hand to massage your belly. It's very full, but there is no denying there is a layer of soft fat on top of your bloated stomach. While your mind gets sucked away by the tv you roll up your tank top. Your belly almost rises higher than your boobs now. After a while you doze off.

A few hours later you wake up to the sound of your stomach grumbling. The first thing you think is "how much food do I have left?" You heavy yourself of the couch and inspect the kitchen. You return to the couch with a tub of ice cream, 2 bars of chocolate, and a roll of oreos. The ice cream is first. Your eyes still fixed on the tv, the spoon empties the tub in minutes. Your belly was slightly less swollen from dinner, but it's beginning to bloat again. You're already starting to rub it as you're eating the last of the ice cream. It's stretched, bloated, so much bigger than before. You push away the thought. You're not gaining weight, you're just bloated from your binge. Everyone has binge days. And you're just so hungry. You can't stop thinking about food. It occupies your mind from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep. You're not consciously admitting it to yourself yet, but you've fallen in love with the feeling of being so stuffed you can't move. So you unwrap the chocolate. You continue eating during the commercial. When you get thirsty, you finish the rest of the cola. It doesn't take long before the chocolate is gone. You're already stuffed to the point of immobility, but still you open the roll of oreos. One of them enters your mouth. Two. Three. Before you know it, all of them are gone. For a moment, panic sets in. You're out of food. What are you going to eat? But then you feel your belly, bigger than ever, stretched, growing. You couldn't possibly fit another thing in there. To your horror you discover that a small amount of pudge has begun to hang over the waist of your sweats. You move them lower, but your hips spill out. A red ring on your waist serves as a painful reminder that you really have gotten bigger and even your sweats are too small. The top you're wearing is more like a bra now, it only covers your stomach to your belly button. A part of you is horrified. You're a pig. A part of you is curious. Most of you, however, is sleepy. And covered by empty wrappers and take out trays you fall asleep with the tv on on the couch.

Maybe you screwed up washing your clothes. That's probably it. Still wearing your sweats you go out to get a new wardrobe. Confidently you get your old size. The attendant in the fitting rooms looks at the sizes on the tags, then looks you over, and raises his eyebrows. In the fitting rooms you discover why. These clothes are actually tighter than the ones you didn't fit into. The jeans you can't even get up over your thighs and you're afraid that if you button up the shirt you will rip it. In the harsh light of the fitting room your gain is very visible. Your belly spills out even when you are just wearing underwear, and you can grab a handful of flab now - something that is completely now to you. Your butt is much bigger, and much jigglier. Your bra is digging into your flesh and forming little rolls of fat on your sides, while your boobs are spilling over the cups. You can even see the beginnings of a double chin. Your cheeks are red with embarrassment as you wiggle out of the jeans and leave the store in a hurry. Like a pig, you go straight to kfc to eat away your feelings. Calmed by the sugar and fat you continue shopping. Eventually you have to admit to yourself that you've not gone up 1, or even 2, but 4 sizes. You buy new sweats - with all the intentions to work out - and one set of "good" clothing. You don't need more than that, you'll fit into your old clothing in no time. You're going to go on a diet, and join the fitness club. And no more takeout food. Feeling empowered by your new resolutions, you leave the store with your "fat" clothes and a new kick in your step. To celebrate the start of your new diet, and to say goodbye to bad food, you stop by the pizza joint on your way home.