I am fat

This will come as a surprise to very few: I'm overweight.

And dammit, I hate it.

My clothes don't fit, I have difficulty moving as I used to. And of course, there's the health and aesthetic issues.

Why am I fat? Cause I overeat.
Why do I overeat? That's more complex to explain. I would say that it's a mix of little self-control, lots of self-hatred, and a bit of angst.

Being fat would be no problem if I were taller, if I were loaded with cash or if I was a powerful or famous man. But no dice.

This will offend some people, but being fat is not a bonus.

I spend hours staring at my deformed body. I look at the bulge in my abdomen and realize that I am staring my destruction in the face. Being fat will kill me. Even if I manage to shed all the excess weight off, it's very likely that there's heavy damage to my digestive, nervous and circulatory systems. Still, I have to do it, even if only to fit into my old jeans again.

Denial is a horrible thing. I kept thinking that I could eat all I wanted for as long as I wanted and people wouldn't care how I look. But they do. Not only am I no longer pleasing to look at, but I am starting to repulse folks. That is not a good thing.

I wasn't all that skinny to begin with. But at least I wasn't as chubby as I am now. I haven't seen any cheekbones in years. They are covered in layers of fatty tissue, just like the rest of my body.

This must end. Now.