It's shitty. Really shitty. Every single day.

I'm at my heaviest ever right now. I struggle to bend over and tie my shoes, I'm embarrassingly out of breath walking up stairs, I'm too hot all the time. Nothing fits me properly. My joints and muscles ache sporadically for no reason and I never have any energy.

And I'm invisible. I'm pleasant and funny and I make interesting conversation, and I'm kind and also like hearing other people's stories, but I'm often overlooked when I meet new people because I'm just another boring fat person, right? I have to work harder to be included and to take part in everyday things. I avoid activities that would show me up in front of normal people.

So why don't I just lose weight? Well I'm trying to get into therapy after years of failed and really self-destructive attempts at doing so. The last one landed me on half a year of anti-depressants when I failed out of it.

It's hard to explain to people why it's a problem: you just eat less, right? But I'm from a really deeply fucked up family and I got into the habit of hiding what I was eating and lying about eating from a young age. Food was the reward or punishment for pretty much anything and everything and was applied very inconsistently.

Served a huge portion of dinner by your crazy mother? You have to eat every bite or else it's humiliation and lecure-about-how-you're-a-failure time! Accidentally knock over your cup of water at dinner? You must have been messing around. Go to your room, no food for you. Constant scrutiny and obsession over what I was eating, comments about my weight (before my weight was a problem - I just hit puberty really early) and then the bullying at school from the age of 9.

My parents don't do hugs and praise so food was the reward for anything we were getting rewarded for. I still associate that first bite of something sugary with the blissful feeling of having done something right for once. For every moment that I'm eating, that hateful, hopeless monologue is silenced and I can simply enjoy the pure pleasure of something in my life being nice.

Almost every single thing I do is a fight about food or my weight. Everything I think about putting in my mouth is a battle, and if I'm honest it's really tiring. Try reading yourself a monologue on why you're a failure and will never succeed in life every time you see or think of food. All day. Every day. Tiring.

My relationship with food is broken and I've been trying for 6 months to get a letter from a doctor (who I fear is of the mind that I 'just need to try') so I can get into some therapy and unpick some of this bullshit and start mending myself.

But I'm not really getting anywhere. And if I'm honest, I'm pretty miserable about the way my days are going and about the future. If I had my choice, I'd rather it was all just over, but there are people that I love who still love me and I'm not yet bad enough to make that happen.

So as a TL;DR: It's a painful, uncomfortable, embarrassing and depressing state to be in which leaves you very physically and emotionally tired a lot of the time.