Sometimes I think to myself, I'm never going to change.
Everything hurts.
My back hurts.
My shins hurt.
I am so limited in what I can do and where I can go.
I have to do a bath downstairs most of the time.
I feel trapped.
I'm miserable.
I feel like a nasty, yucky monster.
I don't like it. I don't like being this person.
I don't like being this size.
Sometimes I feel so hopeless.
And I think that maybe it's not worth it.
Maybe. Maybe it would have been better if I had never been born.
Yeah. My relationship with food isn't healthy.
I spend a lot of time of the day stressing, what am I going to eat?
When do I get it?
Oh, is it ready already?
Yeah, it was ready a while ago.
I didn't know that.
Yeah. I can't stand for more than 30 minutes, so most of my food is cooked for me by my
family members.
I probably eat 4 or 5 times a day.
I can't face the reality of how many calories I eat, so I just don't keep track at
all. There's anticipation before I eat, but it's not enjoyable.
It's a feeling of desperation and sadness.
Thank you, Dad. You're welcome, honey.
So help yourself. Have some chicken.
I want.
Food. It's a comfort.
And it's helping me avoid reality.
I have a lot of anxiety and I don't like it, and I am at peace while I eat.
I don't have to think about the way I let those around me down if I'm eating.
It's a distraction.
Mama's anxiety.
It's worrisome. Food helps calm her down to feel less anxious.
Now, though, overeating just spiraled out of control.
She's lost her independence.
She's pretty much housebound.
I don't know how to help her.
I feel like my parents see me as this failure, this mistake.
They can't fix.
And for as long as I can remember, I've always felt that way.
I have struggled with my weight my whole life.
When I was five, I think I weighed close to £160.
I was a little kid that didn't know how to take care of myself emotionally or
physically. I knew that people expressed love to me by giving me treats, and I tried
to love myself and take care of myself by eating.
I was 16.
I went to the doctor and they escorted me to a special scale in the back built for people
who are in wheelchairs.
They put me on it and I thought, This is it.
I am bigger than a person plus a piece of equipment.
All through high school, Amber is really overweight, and in her senior year of high
school, I think she graduated and she was £425.
I went to college and I continued to gain weight and became more and more introverted.
Amber All of a sudden she doesn't want to work.
She doesn't want to drive, and she got depression.
I didn't understand.
I dropped out of school.
I washed out.
I felt I felt less than human.
I'm already such a failure.
Why not keep failing?
I feel like I have failed myself and my parents.
She always felt like she didn't live up to our expectations and she was always a
disappointment to us.
My legs are too weak.
I can't make it.
She just became a typical underachiever.
I see a lot of pity in my mom's face when she looks at me.
Mostly I think she's just sad for me.
Okay. And I can't handle that.
Okay. How do you.
Why you need me to help me?
Because I don't want help.
I just wanted to do it.
Sometimes my dad would make snide comments about my size, and.
That hurt me.
I wish I could be self sufficient and successful.
And show the world I am made of so much more.
But I know as long as I'm big, as long as I am obese.
I will never be able to.
Be that person.
I'm thankful for the support from my boyfriend.
He is the kind of guy that prefers bigger women.
My boyfriend is sexually very frustrated.
I think he wishes we could be intimate, but I'm not really at a space where intimacy is a
thing I can indulge in.
My hero. I'm sorry.
It's okay.
I've gained a lot of weight since I've met him.
I've gained probably £200.
I know that it's hard on him to see me explode the way I have.
Ready? Yep. I love her, but I worry about Amber a lot because of her weight.
She's getting worse and she's been getting worse rapidly.
And I don't want to see her pass away.
I'm almost to the point where going out isn't even possible for me anymore.
When I do, it's only shopping for foods I want.
These are so good.
You know what? I'll try this one.
I do feel guilty about bringing the food, but at the same time, it's.
It's so hard to stop.
Carnitas, please.
I shouldn't eat all this.
But I mean, what else do you do when you love somebody, right?
I'm so afraid that I will get so big that rowdy will stop loving me.
If we're going to be married, I need to have a partner, not somebody that is going to let
themselves die.
I know I'm doing things that are killing me.
And I have to stop.