I hate this. Hate that I’m stuck and not even able to make myself try.

Half hearted effort follows half hearted effort.

And the only thing that is happening is I’m getting fatter and sadder in equal measure.

I’m pretending to follow a meal replacement diet, yet I’m driving to 24hr stores to stock up on jars of chocolate spread and bottles of fat coke!

I am the heaviest I have been in over a year and it shows no sign of getting better. Everything feels broken.

I no longer go to the gym. I don’t eat meals. I live off snacks – tubes of squeeze cream, blocks of cheese, family bags of Yorkshire puddings and mugfuls of gravy.

I disgust me. Nothing I own fits anymore. I hace gone from 163lb to 192lb. I just want to crawl in to bed and sob myself skinny.

So far it hasn’t worked. I need a plan.

I need help? What can I try?

The Go Fund Me Experiment

You guys probably know that excess skin is a big (no pun intended) issue for me.

I lost almost 10 stone pretty fast after weight loss surgery. Combine that with a medical condition the vastly drops the elasticity of my skin and you end up with me – living in a skin suit several sizes too big.


Currently I weigh 12 stone 10 lbs. The lowest I’ve ever managed was 11 stone 10 lbs. This is because, even though my official “healthy weight” is sub 10st 10lb, the majority of my overweight is down to skin.


Several consultations later both NHS and privately and the consensus is I would be a healthy weight if the skin was gone – it is just skin with no fat attached.


Sadly the NHS surgery team will only see me if I lose another 2 stone. I am struggling on but medical professionals say it’s highly unlikely I will manage it.

Privately, the surgery reaches £20,000 – a figure I can only dream of. Hence Go Fund Me!


I decided that if everyone else can crowdfund for their dreams why can’t I? I worked hard to get to where I am but I physically cannot change myself anymore without help.

That is why I’m here – if anyone who sees this post can donate just a pound or two or even just share it with their friends, family and coworkers I would be so grateful!

Sick Of Being Sick

Just over a year ago I posted a somewhat lengthy post about my Gastric Band. I talked about how it changed the way I would eat forever, how sick it made me because I didn’t follow the rules and how I wanted to change.

Hello, I’m Binny and I lied. 12 months later and I am typing this post in a depressing sequence – eat, be sick, type, eat, be sick, type. I don’t know how to make it stop. I don’t know how to make it go away. I don’t know how to get better.

I don’t know how to fix ‘me’.

I already have anxiety issues with new people, but then you add in the whole ‘eating’ issue and it worsens tenfold. It affects everything; what I eat, where I eat, how I eat. And it changes who I eat with. I am sick, a lot. Every day. Every meal. If I had to count, which I haven’t as the figure is probably terrifying, I am sick upwards of 30 times a day. I risk tooth loss, stomach ulcers, band slippage, perforation and ultimately death. I try and not think about it.

The biggest issue lies in do I or don’t I tell people I meet? I risk putting them off or freaking them out. But I also risk seeming fraudulent or having unacceptable eating habits without an understandable reason.

Not Telling People

  • They expect you to eat like them
  • You risk offending people when you don’t finish a meal
  • You risk being sick, a lot, when you try and finish a meal
  • You seem fussy – you can’t eat meat, rice, bread, eat and drink at the same time etc
  • You stick out and people just think you’re weird

Telling People

  • They judge you for it, think you’re vain, lazy, cheating
  • It becomes too important in relationships – can you eat here, can you eat that. It decides a lot
  • People worry about you – again, can you eat this. Are you ok. Can’t you eat anymore.
  • People watch you, watch you eat, watch your bathroom habits – are you peeing or being sick.
  • People feel sorry for you, they pity the fact you aren’t like them

I could have the band loosened, that is a very real option. It would allow me to eat more, eat better and eat easier. I wouldn’t be sick as much either. I could fit in.

This has been an option all along, even with the price tag, an option I have refused to take. The thought of being able to eat more terrifies me – I struggle to make the right choices as it is, I still binge eat at the drop of a hat. My only saving grace that prevents drastic weight gain is the fact I can rely on being sick so much throughout my binging that weight gain is minimised.

But I am tired, sick of being sick. Sick of worrying; is our table near enough a toilet, is there something on the menu I can eat, how am I going to manage more than one course if it comes to it, how can I be sick without anyone noticing.

The things is, they always notice.