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Three hundred and eighty one pounds.  I have never weighed this much in my life. I feel myself battling - almost aggressively - this path to health.  I eat at night, or eat extra meals, or supersize, or tell myself to splurge, that I deserve it. 

I am killing myself in the moments when no one is watching. 

My clothes don't fit. My back is killing me and my legs throb after I try to workout.  I can't walk for extended periods of time.  My hips hurt after I've sat too long.  

I literally weigh more than a pig. 

If I lost drastic weight in the next three months I would still be at a morbid size.  I feel hopeless and alone. And not prepared for the fight.