Well, if you don't know who I am you probably wouldn't be reading this, so I'll
skip all the introductions and start at the beginning. Probably you are
wondering how I became so large. I can truly say my life has been very
different from most people's, and I don't think I will ever lead any kind of
a normal life. This essay is a work which will attempt to somewhat sate the
hunger for knowledge about me and my size. Many people have asked me, and
I'm sure even more have been curious but not asked. So here it is!
As you probably know, I have been large all my life. Only at one point in my
entire life have I ever been even close to the size of most people my age;
when I was born. I weighed 11 pounds, 8 ounces. My mother, who is of average
size, weighed 25 pounds less after my birth.
By the time I was one year old, I already weighed about 22 pounds, but the
doctor pronounced me perfectly healthy. My family was relieved, because we
always eat a lot, and they wanted me to be able to eat my fill at the dinner
table, which I would always do... plus a little more.
When I was six years old, I started kindergarten. I was the biggest girl in
the whole class. Our teacher, Ms. Lantenbaum, was a large woman herself, and
would not tolerate any of the other kids teasing me. At snack time, she would
secretly bring me extra food, and slip me candy bars after school. That on
top of the large meals we had at home pushed me up to over 210 pounds
in another year. Being so short then, I needed new clothes almost every month.
Throughout my early education, I seemed to be blessed with understanding
teachers who would protect me from mean kids and slip me snacks. I became
used to eating so much, that all the other kids would let me eat their
lunches, too. And at snack time, I stopped having to ask for seconds; they
would give me three servings, right off the bat.
By the time I was ten years old, I weighed more than four hundred pounds. I was
very active and almost never sat still unless I was eating or sleeping. But
being not quite five feet tall, I had a lot of trouble walking. All my
weight up to this point had gone directly into my thighs, hips, and rear, so
I was almost too wide to fit through some doorways. I really didn't care
what anyone thought. I somehow knew inside that I would never been thin like
everyone else, and I might as well get used to my size.
Of course, the gaining didn't stop there. Three years later, I was approaching
six hundred pounds. Doctors had been able to do nothing. Every diet, plan,
regimen, and medicating seemed to be only speeding up my growth. So my
family decided to just take the best care of me they could and let me live
at home. I continued in self-schooling, and had many friends come to visit.
However, my body had grown enormously large, and I had not yet had much of a
growth spurt upwards. My father made sure to widen all the doorways to our
house and reinforce the furniture to support me.
About a month before my eighteenth birthday, I made a resolution to become the
fattest human in history. I knew now that I was blessed with the capacity to
gain phenomenal amounts of weight, and I decided to use that gift to it's
fullest. On my birthday, I got an industrial scale, which I still have. It
weighed me then at 738 pounds.
Not long after, I met the love of my life, Jeremy, and moved in with him in
a customized house. Together, we vowed to make me the fattest human the
world had ever seen. Already used to round the clock eating from a lifetime
of gorging, we had to make special arrangements to stretch my stomach capacity
further, but our plan worked.
I had absolutely refused to become sedentary or immobile. I worked out
heavily, so with every pound I gained, I also gained the strength to carry it.
By the time I was 25, I weighed every ounce of 900 pounds and then some. My
body still had the general shape it always had; just with outrageous
proportions. My rear was just huge. It stuck out almost a foot and a half
behind me, forming a wide, flat shelf at the bottom of my back and rounding
out in two oversized-beachball cheeks that rested comfortably on my huge
thighs. My hips jutted out almost two and a half feet to either side. My
small drooping tummy rested comfortably on my thighs when I stood. But
without a large belly, my breasts hung down almost to my hips, and I had to
wear a special 70H bra to hold them in place. Around the waist I measured
only 56 inches, but with my enormous rear and hips, I was up to 165 inches
around the hips. They stuck out so wide and flat that Jeremy had a game of
seeing how many things he could balance on them while I stood!
By this point, walking was it's own exercise. It was so difficult to get
each thigh around the other to actually move my leg forward, that I waddled
more than walked, with my hips, rear, and thighs bounding along with me. I
only had a few pieces of clothing that I could wear to cover myself (besides
my bra, which was almost a necessity), because I was gaining so fast.
I knew I had to make it to 1,200 pounds to set the record, but I wanted to
do it and still be able to stand. The closer I got, the less this seemed
like a reality. The last time I stood up, I weighed 1,138 pounds. Once I
resigned to bedridden life, however, the pounds came on faster than they
ever had before.
Four years ago, when I was 29, I was weighed at 1,550 pounds. Now I am
estimated to weigh somewhere between 1,800 and 2,000 pounds. I have a
130 inch bust, and a 62 inch waist. I cannot stand, but Jeremy estimates
that my hips measure at least 250 inches. I am now more than 10 feet wide,
and pretty soon the two king sized beds I sit on will be too small.
A Life Story
by Doug