In my case, I must separate two stages.
The first: I weighed between 450 and 500 pounds, and that's when it all started.
I had gained weight naturally, and the idea of ​​being even bigger was tempting, but I can't say I just wanted to gain weight no matter what.
I didn't want to remain immobile, and some health issues frightened me. I just wanted to gain a little more weight, to the point where things became difficult.
It was a fun and humorous stage, where I truly enjoyed being obese. I even went from wearing baggy clothes to hide my fat to wearing tight-fitting clothes without any shame. It was also then that I needed to use two chairs to accommodate my butt, and the whole experience was very pleasant.
The second stage: At this point, I was already trying to justify my immobility and debating what to do.
I never stopped eating and gaining weight. I was using a bariatric wheelchair and a walker.
My life was reduced to the immediate vicinity of my home, and I was lucky enough to walk a couple of steps before collapsing gasping for air.
If I'm being truly honest, I decided to enjoy food with the excuse of gaining weight beyond immobility.
I had a massive food addiction that I never wanted to leave behind, and I'm talking about eating enough for five adults at every meal.
I chose to keep playing the game. My husband would fatten me up and take care of me while I dedicated myself to eating and gaining weight.
At 900 pounds, I was already a useless mass of flesh resting in a bed. I couldn't sit up or turn over, and I had severe fluid retention that made it impossible to control my blood pressure. Then I suffered a spike in blood pressure, which I recovered from without consequences.
Immediately, the game was over, and my husband restricted my calorie intake. I was crying out loud, begging for them to please feed me.
1 week
