I recently turned 25. I weigh just under 300 pounds. I cannot explain why. There is no excuse. No traumatic childhood experience beyond the cruel words pretty much every fat kid has been subjected to, no traumatic injury, no external excuse whatsoever, not a thing to blame but my own day-to-day decisions. I know full well that my path leads to diabetes, persistent infection, amputation, heart disease, stroke, environmental cancers. I know full well and yet, I have not changed my behavior. I persistently overeat and do not exercise. By overeating I mean nauseating amounts of food...six pieces of pizza and half a pie...three over-sized servings of lasagna and ice cream...two bowls of cereal and a bagel with cheese. I am constantly beating myself up for continuing to be this way. There is no polite way to describe my actions, no other word but pathetic. I feel like I am killing myself in slow motion. Does it not defy sanity, to be tortured by feeling fat, to feel disgusted with yourself, and then to continue, with full awareness, to do the things that make you fat? I think to myself, I must not really want to lose weight or look good because every time I try, I slip into old behaviors. Reason says that if I was truly that miserable being fat...I would make the changes needed to become thin. Yet, although I am certain that being fat makes me miserable, I repeatedly fail at changing myself. When I was 12 I thought, well, I won't be fat when I am in high school. When I started high school I thought, maybe college. When I stayed home from the prom to smoke pot I began to realize that I may be missing out on things I might one day come to regret. I do regret. I am full of bitterness and jealousy. Anger toward the "naturally thin", the thin women who casually dismiss themselves as fat, the men who joke cruelly about (what sums to) the worthlessness of fat women, angry at overweight men that snide fat women, angry at my father for saying nobody would want to marry a fat woman, but angry above all, at myself. I cannot make the world treat fat people with fairness and kindness by being unhealthy and miserable, I cannot end the subjugation of women by calling out every shallow bastard I come across, I cannot end hate with hate. The last thing I would ever want to see happen would be for this anger and self-hatred to be picked up on by my children (now one and three)...and I know that if I do not change my life, it will be. Will I fail here too, I wonder? And add incompetent mother to my list of inadequacies? 150 pounds to go...wish me luck or pray or think me pathetic. Your choice.