An Accidental Fatty

Chapter 1 - Part 1 - Frustration

Part one, frustration.


Reece absent mindedly reached down for another rice krispie square. Scrabbling around the edge of his desk, his hand failed to connect with anything. Tearing his eyes away from his screen, where he had been locked in updating patient notes, he noticed there were no more left. That can't be right, there was a full pack of eight, wasn't there? He totted up the empty wrappers, 1,2,3,4...8. Yep, there had been eight and now there were none. He really must have been locked in on those patient notes. He had expected the pack to last him all week, not be done by 11am on Monday. Still, they are just basically air, how is just one or two supposed to fill him up, he justified himself. Lightly brushing away the crumbs which had accumulated on his noticeable belly shelf Reece became aware of how desperately he needed a wee, now that his concentration was broken. Hauling himself to his feet, he barely noticed the relieved sigh the pneumatic mechanism on his office chair made as it was unloaded.

Reece loved his job as a mental health nurse. It was challenging but deeply rewarding. He was grateful he got time each day to sit at his desk and update his notes, the job was emotionally draining at times and some quiet time was needed. He was aware he tended to snack too much though, when sitting at his desk, and felt slightly annoyed with himself at having scoffed all his snacks for the week before Monday dinnertime.

Finishing his wee, his first attempt at doing up his 40" trousers was unsuccessful. Taking in a deep breath to reduce the size of his stomach as much as possible, his hands urgently fiddled to draw the clasp together whilst simultaneously trying to hold as much of his muffin top out of the way as possible. After a few seconds of frantic scrabbling, he managed to bring the pieces of fabric together. He ignored the creaking of the trousers as he exhaled, he had never liked these trousers anyway. At 24 years old, Reece had only been working as a registered mental health nurse for 3 years, yet he was certain the quality of the uniform had dropped dramatically in that time. Probably NHS cutbacks, the system was under immense strain. Still, at least he didn't have to wear a nurse's tunic in the psychiatrist department, they were so unflattering. A button up shirt and office style trousers weren't as comfortable, but at least he didn't feel horrendous every time he passed a mirror. Readjusting his trousers where the waistband was digging uncomfortably into his flesh, he shuffled from the bathroom and decided it was high time for an early lunch.

Smiling at people he passed in the corridor, he sauntered at a relaxed pace down to the staff canteen. He took a slightly longer route than necessary, having heard recently that walking 10,000 steps a day was healthy, he was attempting to walk a little more. Although, if he were honest with himself he knew he rarely did more than 5,000. His pace quickened as the aromas of greasy food entered his nostrils. The staff canteen was a festival of beige food, but Reece didn't mind that, being a bit of a picky eater. He had also figured out long ago that if you got in just as they changed the breakfast items over to lunch at about 11:15, you might get a couple of leftover freebies thrown in. It always felt like a little win to get an extra treat technically paid for by work.

Perspiring freely, Reece headed straight past the salad counter and made a beeline for the hot food. He mused for a minute about having the grilled fish and rice which was advertised as a healthy option, but then the rumbling in his stomach made his mind up for him and he chose the cheese and bacon burger with chips. As he hoped for, the server threw a couple of sausages and three hash browns into his plate too. Less than 5 minutes later Reece contentedly wiped some dripping grease from his chins with his napkin, having inhaled his food at an alarming pace. Still, bliss can't last forever, best get back to it. Unsteadily pushing himself to his feet, he adjusted the uncomfortable waistband on his trousers again before waddling back up the corridor much more slowly than he came down it, taking the direct route this time.

Pleasingly, this took him past a charity cake sale. Smiling, he really does have a stunning smile, he pondered the wide selection of treats on offer. Eventually, after a couple of minutes of indecision he realised he would never be able to make his mind up he went all in with a slice of chocolate cake, two doughnuts and three different flavours of muffin. Reasoning with himself that these could replace the rice krispie squares he had eaten ahead of time, he would make these cakes last all week. Noticing the curious expression on the face of the volunteer manning the stall as he handed over the money he blurted out "I'm getting a few for the team, I thought it would be nice to treat them". "Sure you are duck" she retorted, smiling kindly, but Reece noticed her unconscious glance towards his ample middle. Feeling the heat rising in his face at the familiar feeling of not managing to hide his obesity from a stranger, he mumbled a thank you and plodded back to the office.

Frustratedly he plonked himself heavily down on his desk chair, not even hearing the straining of his clothes and protestations of the chair as he was so used to them. He began greedily shovelling a doughnut into his mouth, letting out a large belch to relieve some of the pressure on his bloated stomach. Why did he try and justify himself to that girl? Why didn't he just keep his big mouth shut? Moving onto the cake, he consumed the slice in about three mouthfuls and continued with another doughnut. Beginning to feel the familiar comforting sensation of sugar spiking through his veins he began to calm down. She probably wasn't even looking at his body, was she. Most likely she was counting the change he had given her.

By the time Reece had got to this point of balanced emotions, he had consumed all three doughnuts and the cake. I really must get this under control, he thought, feeling resentful and slightly cross with himself for having overeaten yet again. Come on Reece, he chastised himself, you've got to get this under control. This week was going to be a new beginning. More steps, fewer snacks, less junk food. He began to sweep crumbs and krispie square wrappers off his desk to tidy up. Returning from the bin he spied a wrapper which had floated down onto the floor. Bending double to collect it, his voluminous stomach pushed his poor shirt beyond what it could handle. With an almighty ripping noise a button released itself from the strain and violently fired into the floor.

Panicking, he stood up. What the hell had just happened? Surely they don't make the uniform this bad that it just rips without warning? This shirt is an XL too, extra large, there is no way he could be too big for it. Yeah, he had been struggling with his weight but he's not beyond extra large. Popping buttons is obscene. How was he going to hide this from his patients this afternoon? How utterly humiliating.

In his panic he hurried into an empty patient room to examine the damage in the mirror. To his relief the button had popped off cleanly and not ripped the shirt fabric left behind. It was between his stomach and moobs where his shirt had rode up slightly, and he reckoned he could hide it reasonably well by adjusting his lanyard so the ID card covered it. He would just keep adjusting his ID to make sure it stayed covering the pale flesh now peeking through the gap. Although, that wouldn't also cover the flesh exposed between each other button where they were straining to keep the two halves of his shirt together. He really must get some new shirts, XL would still be fine, though, this one must have shrunk slightly in the wash.

Spying the weighing scale in the corner of the cubicle, he decided to do a quick check. It had been what, three weeks since he last had? Yes, there had been a few stressful days where he hadn't been as disciplined as he would ideally like, but he has been better hasn't he? Surely there will be some good news to cheer him up. Typing his height of 180cm into the digital display on the scales he slipped off his shoes. Thank god for Sketchers slip ons, laces were beginning to be a bit of a nightmare for him at the moment, he must do some more stretches, he shouldn't have hamstrings so tight he can't comfortably reach his feet at 24. He didn't even pause to consider that his enormous stomach might be the issue.

Stepping onto the scale the numbers bounced at first, mirroring the jiggling of his belly. Eventually they settled down. 125kg. One two five. Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck. He was only 123kg three weeks ago. No way had he gained 2kg in three weeks? This was a fucking disaster. The fancy medical scales printed their little receipt:
---------------
Height - 180cm
Weight - 125kg
BMI - 38.6 [Obese class II]
Healthy BMI range 18.5-25kg/m²
Healthy weight 59.9 - 80.0kg [+44kg overweight]
BMI index 1.54 [154% above highest healthy BMI]
------------------

Fighting back tears Reece read the little script. It was so brutal. Only four years ago he was 78kg. How was it possible that he was now 47kg heavier? This was it. This is the turning point. Looking himself in the mirror, flushed and bloated, he affirmed out loud to himself "this is it Reece. No more excuses, just discipline. You will never be this heavy again, only lighter from here".

***
An afternoon with patients was always good for forgetting one's problems. There were poor people in the world with challenges far greater than a ripped shirt button. A bit of perspective was useful. Plus, doing the job he loved, making a material difference to people's lives, always left him with a spring in his step. Exhausted, but full of contentment. Sliding into his classic ford fiesta, his one true indulgence to himself except for his constant steam of takeaways, he noticed happily he had managed to get out of work almost dead on time today. Slipping his vape under his muffin top so it wouldn't slide away as he drove, he began his commute home.
Getting home, he slipped off his uniform and massaged the angry red welts left by his work trousers. Slipping on his roomiest trackies and a t-shirt that left a bit of his muffin top exposed these days where it gathered up over his love handles but was still cute, he began to ponder what to have for tea.

Reece hated cooking, so decided to order a takeaway in, as per usual. His earlier promises to himself were washed away by a fun afternoon at work and a rumble in his tummy. Plus, he had had a rollercoaster of emotions today, a bit of comfort food wouldn't hurt.

Agonising with himself, he decided to forgo the tub of Ben and Jerries from his order, since this was a new step, right? Pleased with himself for being so disciplined he gathered the large bag of food from the delivery driver. "Cheers Reece, have a nice evening mate" Adrian the driver said cheerfully, smiling at one of his most regular customers. Reece plonked himself down on his worn sofa and unpacked the bag. A double bacon cheeseburger and large pizza garlic bread, his usual order minus the ice cream. Burgers were Reece's favourite food and it had become so commonplace for him to eat them twice in a day that he didn't even consider it unusual anymore.

Popping the burger onto the useful shelf his gut formed, he began happily munching away. After his meal, he raided his cupboard and devoured a large so-called 'family sized' bar of dairy milk.

Once again, he felt the familiar feeling of self loathing that inevitably followed pigging out. How was he ever going to get a boyfriend when he continued to eat like a greedy pig? As normal when feeling like this, he automatically opened Grindr.

Scrolling past the faceless profiles he saw a guy who he thought was hot, with pretty blue eyes. Dropping him a quick message, he was delighted that the guy replied. His name was Chris, he had gorgeous eyes and his hobbies included playing golf, hiking and running.

"Uh, active guy aren't you Chris? Bet you've got a great body 😈, wanna show me?"

Chris obliged and the picture didn't disappoint. A pale and toned body which said 'i take care of myself' but with enough hint of belly to say 'but I know how to enjoy a treat' but without being overweight.

Of course, Chris asked for a pic in return. Reece scrolled through his very sparse selection of photos of himself to find one where the angle was good enough to hide some of his size but without being so old it could be considered a catfish. Settling on a pic from the bath from about 6 months ago where he was laid flat and sucking in, with bubble bath hiding some of his love handles and stretch marks he sent it and readied himself for the inevitable immediate blocking.

Much to his surprise the photo was replied to.

"Looking hot. I really hope you don't mind me saying this, and I genuinely mean it as a compliment, but I love a guy carrying a bit of weight around his middle. I'm not into super skinny guys, I like a man with a real body".
Reece, shocked to his core, couldn't believe what he had just read...