I'm 5'9, currently 256lbs down from 320 a few years ago.

I genuinely believe obesity is a mental illness - or at least, a manifestation of it. I was bullied and fucked with a lot growing up, and it lead to me eating my feelings and using food as an escape. All those years of binge eating conditioned me to feel hungry as a response to everything from sadness to plain boredom, so I'd always be looking for an excuse to eat. I knew I hit rock bottom when I went to go rent a suit for my highschool graduation and the tailor literally didn't have one big enough. Lemme tell you, man... nothing is more sobering than looking at yourself in a full-body mirror, stretching the absolute limits of the biggest suit they have, wearing suspenders like some sort of geriatric farmer.

I didn't start actually making progress until I confronted my demons. On some subconscious level, I didn't think I deserved to be happy.