Chapter 3 Starting work

The transition from the comfortable cocoon of college to the corporate world was a monumental shift that brought with it a whole new set of challenges. The nurturing environment where I had thrived academically and personally was replaced with a fast-paced world of deadlines, client meetings, and high expectations. The weight of responsibility grew, and with it, so did my own weight. My days grew longer, sitting at a computer for hours, blending into nights as I navigated the intricacies of client projects and strove to make my mark in the professional realm.

In the midst of this hustle and bustle, I found solace in the break room, a space that offered a temporary reprieve from the demanding tasks that awaited me at my desk. The array of expensive complimentary corporate snacks and treats provided a comforting escape, a momentary distraction from the pressures of the day. Work place takeout became a companion during those solitary moments of working overtime, a familiar indulgence that numbed the stress and momentarily dulled the awareness of my ballooning reality. I barely moved in the office and I probably sucked down about a dozen crispy fried egg rolls along with a few family sized buffets of chinese food in any given week. The very food that helped me forget about my newfound struggles was the one causing them ironically.

As weeks turned into months, the pace of work life didn't slow down, and neither did the rate at which I was gaining weight. I'd spend hours sitting at my computer, typing, and eating. My once-accepting attitude towards my size began to shift, as I grappled with a new sense of defiance and resignation. I was Abby, a capable and accomplished professional, and my size was just one aspect of my identity. Yet, as I looked in the mirror in my nice new NYC condo, the reflection staring back at me told a story of change that went beyond appearances. Even the largest high end professional clothes money could buy was becoming snug on me, the fabric stretching to accommodate my expanding form. My 5'6 frame resembles more of that of a ball than a woman as fat looked for anywhere it could fit under my taught pale skin; mostly my butt, belly, and hips (sadly leaving my breasts somewhat smaller in relation to the rest of me now). The once new 'extra large office chair' that I had specially ordered which once supported me with ease now emitted strained creaks, a testament to the physical demands my increasing weight was placing on everyday objects.

The conference room stands out as a defining space in my narrative of increasing self-consciousness. Squeezing into the smaller meeting chairs triggered a wave of shame that I had tried to keep at bay. The arms of the chair dug into my sides, leaving painful imprints on my soft flesh, serving as a physical reminder of the weight I was carrying. I had to sit at an angle just to fit. My fidgeting and attempts to shift my weight discreetly went unnoticed by most during meetings, but I was acutely aware of the discomfort and my own attempts to mitigate it. It was a moment of realization that my body wasn't just changing on the surface; it was undergoing a transformation that affected my daily interactions in the most mundane experiences.

Beyond the confines of the office, even within my home, the signs of my expanding frame became increasingly evident. My breaths grew even shallower and quickened, and activities that were once second nature, like standing or walking short distances, became herculean tasks. And as the months went by and my bonus salary increased, I decided to hire a maid and chef because honestly, I couldn't be bothered. I was a new star of the company and my ever increasing income reflected that, may as well put the money to good use right? The simple act of bending down to pick up a pen or reaching for an itch on my back was becoming increasingly challenging. My trips to the bathroom became longer as I struggled to keep my oversized body clean and beautiful, something I had always taken great pride in and a stark reminder that my body was changing in ways I hadn't anticipated. The pantry, once a source of occasional snacks, became a frequent destination for me, as I felt a growing loss of control over my eating habits and the food i ordered.

This escalating situation came into sharp focus during a weekend outing with my group of college friends. As they effortlessly navigated the NY city streets, laughing and chatting with one another, I found myself struggling to keep up. My words could only come in labored gasps when trying to maintain a conversation, my legs burning with each step. The sweat forming on my forehead was a testament to the effort it took to match their pace. I could sense their concern, feel them intentionally slowing down their speed for me so I could keep up; pity was hidden behind their supportive smiles, and it was at this moment that the magnitude of my situation hit me. Thankfully, my old friend and coworker, Sarah, made up an excuse for my benefit; saying she was *tired* and that she was probably gonna get a cab and meet us at our destination, which was obviously bullshit coming from the girl who ran ultramarathons for fun and all my friends knew it. She asked if "any of us" wanted to come with looking directly at me. Thankful for her bail out, I embarassingly agreed, having fun with my friends after meeting them at the NYC hang-out via motorized transportation.

In only several years, my weight had surged to 600 pounds with no real sign of slowing down, and the reality of the situation could no longer be brushed aside. I laid on my couch after, thinking about how I would cope. The challenges of my weight were becoming a little more than just annoyances but that’s to be expected in a non-fat accepting society. Despite having a car, my work commute was becoming physically unbearable due to the fact that the building planners had put the parking ramp like 30 yards away from the main work elevators! How could they be so inconsiderate to people of my size? My body was adapting to accommodate my new lifestyle and I was ready to accept it and accomadate the new me. I was fat and the world needed to understand its inevitability and accommodate me better as well.

*Jesus christ, sorry but, just listen to this entitled piggy go on and on about why its everyone else's fault that they can’t accommodate her gargantuan existence lol. Her salary may be increasing but so is her arrogance. Like, maybe just stop eating like a fucking family of four all the time but NOOOOO. Whatever, let's just watch her find ways to accommodate her gluttony, it’s cute. The yummy consequences of her actions have just barely begun, she just doesn’t understand yet. I can assure you though, she lives a good life, for a blob i guess.*