How do some people let themselves get so big?

Self hatred, depression, denial, etcetcetc

This

MONEY. Income and education can often play a huge roll. This is not to say that all morbidly obese people are not smart or cannot be wealthy, but in the US (and in my family in particular) there is a strong correlation between obesity and low income/ poverty/ low education and earning potential. They have fewer food choices and will be more likely to opt for high calorie cheap fast food. They were usually not raised by the hyper-healthy whole foods moms in yoga pants running around all day to pilates and packing their kids organic fruit and tofu for lunch. They are worried about paying rent, supporting their loved ones, and making sure there is some sort of food on the table. They are not concerned about paying for a gym membership or preparing healthy meals. All of these factors work together and it can be a vicious cycle. And as many of us know, once you are that big, it is incredibly difficult to make changes for a number of reasons. In my particular work field I work entirely with indigent people. A huge proportion of them are obese, especially the women who are often solely responsible for child care.

PLEASE NOTE: this is generally true in the US. There are OF COURSE exceptions to any rule, and it will not be true 100% of the time. I don't mean any offense to any one individual, just hoping to illuminate the general trend for OP.

Self hatred, depression, denial, etcetcetc

Not for me. No. I have always loved myself.
For me, food is/was a hobby. Developing new recipes and trying new things. I was always cooking and baking for a crowd. When there was no crowd around, that meant more for me. Yay!

I never had a problem with being fat until I couldn't touch my toes and being physically exhausted for days at a time. That was my rude awakening that something needed to be done but I never felt shame, abused, lonely, or unloved.

Until I started MFP, I never really realized how many calories I was actually taking in.

So, I'm not cooking for a crowd anymore. I am trying new recipes that are low fat, carb, and calories. My life is a different kind of party now and I still love and respect myself.

*I am only speaking of my own experience. I can not and will not answer for anyone else.

I knew someone would say that. Grats! You are the winner, sort of. Maybe not. It's nice of you to give us your opinion without even knowing me at all.

Let me tell you a short story.

I went with a friend, for moral support, to her first AA meeting. Being the friendly person that I am, I introduced myself to many people and chit chatted before it all started.

I was asked how long I've had a problem. I replied with, "Oh, I don't have a problem."

I can not tell you how many people told me I was in denial. When people shared, lots were talking about denial and looking at me....

Wow, I don't even drink.

Moral of the story- get the story before you judge. Thanks.

Self hatred, depression, denial, etcetcetc

Not for me. No. I have always loved myself.
For me, food is/was a hobby. Developing new recipes and trying new things. I was always cooking and baking for a crowd. When there was no crowd around, that meant more for me. Yay!

I never had a problem with being fat until I couldn't touch my toes and being physically exhausted for days at a time. That was my rude awakening that something needed to be done but I never felt shame, abused, lonely, or unloved.

Until I started MFP, I never really realized how many calories I was actually taking in.

So, I'm not cooking for a crowd anymore. I am trying new recipes that are low fat, carb, and calories. My life is a different kind of party now and I still love and respect myself.

*I am only speaking of my own experience. I can not and will not answer for anyone else.

Not trying to nitpick, but what you described actually falls into the denial part of his answer.

Self loathing, based off being chubby when I was a kid and my dads response to it. I won't go into a huge long story, but in my case I self sabotaged because I was never taught that you could be beautiful at any weight. My weight was ALWAYS even from young childhood (and I was by NO MEANS FAT AS A YOUNG CHILD) just slightly bigger than my sister, anyway, I was ALWAYS told "you'd be so pretty if you lost a few pounds" and this is as a FOUR year old and FIVE year old. I still harbor anger against my dad but honestly, I know my reasons why, I know he was wrong, and I know where value comes from now (surely not from my pants size).

You can't see yourself as anything but a Monster, if you're called nothing but a monster from an early age.

Just sayin'.

This is going to be popular .. :noway:

I knew someone would say that. Grats! You are the winner, sort of. Maybe not. It's nice of you to give us your opinion without even knowing me at all.

Let me tell you a short story.

I went with a friend, for moral support, to her first AA meeting. Being the friendly person that I am, I introduced myself to many people and chit chatted before it all started.

I was asked how long I've had a problem. I replied with, "Oh, I don't have a problem."

I can not tell you how many people told me I was in denial. When people shared, lots were talking about denial and looking at me....

Wow, I don't even drink.

Moral of the story- get the story before you judge. Thanks.

Self hatred, depression, denial, etcetcetc

Not for me. No. I have always loved myself.
For me, food is/was a hobby. Developing new recipes and trying new things. I was always cooking and baking for a crowd. When there was no crowd around, that meant more for me. Yay!

I never had a problem with being fat until I couldn't touch my toes and being physically exhausted for days at a time. That was my rude awakening that something needed to be done but I never felt shame, abused, lonely, or unloved.

Until I started MFP, I never really realized how many calories I was actually taking in.

So, I'm not cooking for a crowd anymore. I am trying new recipes that are low fat, carb, and calories. My life is a different kind of party now and I still love and respect myself.

*I am only speaking of my own experience. I can not and will not answer for anyone else.

Not trying to nitpick, but what you described actually falls into the denial part of his answer.

Well okay then. I mean, it just sounds like letting things get to the point where you can't touch your toes, are physically exhausted and then diagnosed with diabetes is being a bit being in denial about the weight gain affecting your life and health.

Self hatred, depression, denial, etcetcetc

Me personally I agree with this, I have come to realize that I hated myself , and was completely depressed. It's like a slow suicide, you just completely give up and don't care what happens anymore. When nothing makes you happy anymore, except for maybe that 10 mins your eating chips or something. Of course the more weight you gain, the more depressed you become, and it just becomes a vicious cycle.

This exactly.

I went from 120 lbs at age 23 to 203 lbs at age 36.

Growing up, my home life was pretty chaotic - Mom and Dad constantly fought with each other, and therefore my sisters and I constantly fought with each other. Dad was cold, barely touched us, never said I Love You unless it was pre-printed in a greeting card for the rare holiday. Mom was overly affectionate and used me (the oldest) emotionally as a substitute for her husband since she couldn't get affection from her own. So I spent my childhood longing for Dad and pushing my Mother away from me (smothered).

I was a chubby kid and got bullied a lot in school ("hey, do you float in the pool?", etc.). I didn't know it then, but I now realize I was very depressed during those years. My mom took me to Weight Watchers and Jazzercise when I was 11. I loved both and by the time I was 15 I had shot up a few inches and got down to 114 lbs. But I remained seriously depressed and angry.

In my mid-20's, I met a man who quickly became my "everything". He was the prince I'd always dreamed of (hello, daddy figure). He made me so happy that I immersed myself in his life. He was british, a soccer player, a talented videographer, extremely funny, made good money, and had great taste in music...and food. He took me out to eat sometimes for every meal during the weekend. I had never tasted Thai food before in my life, for example, but he introduced me to it. I had never had a good wine, and he showed me how to pick one. It was a super sensual relationship filled with concerts and restaurants and films and romantic events...and lots of attention. I probably gained 15 lbs from eating out alone, plus I believe I was completely lost in this man and his affection. Meanwhile, he had the metabolism of a racehorse and nothing stuck to his body.

When he broke up with me, I felt my life was over. By then, I had experienced so much pleasure from all that rich food that I could no longer seem to stop eating it. And I hated myself for letting him get away, which fueled my depression, and fueled me into the food even further. I probably got up into the 140's at that point but somehow managed to hold steady there for a long time.

In 2002, I met another man whom again, I fell hard for, and he was athletic and loved to eat (and drink). There were many stressful aspects of our relationship, not the least of which that I was sick a lot that year, and we traveled every other weekend to another state to see his children. But again...I was looking for happiness in another person, so I lost touch with my own life and sense of self...my friends, family, church, and hobbies. This was my fault, mind you! But again...I became lost in the man....and the food. Trying to escape the sadness I normally drowned in.

By 2003 I had gained FIFTY pounds and found myself neck-deep in a full blown food addiction. That year was a total blur. I don't remember much, except I DO remember the food. Lots of "moments" with food: stopping at Target for Dark Chocolate Moose Munch, then at Ray's Ice Cream Shop for a huge cup of Moose Tracks (what was with me and moose's? lol), then through KFC drive through for the combo meal. All evidence was thrown away before I got home, so that no one (including myself) would know what I'd done.

I was probably eating 5-6 desserts a day, easily. If there were huge cookies from a deli leftover after a meeting, I would go into the kitchen when no one was looking and ferret 4-5 of them out in a napkin. Then I'd eat all five before leaving work, and I'd obsess about having another one. Sugar simply didn't make me sick like it did normal people. I could eat almost a whole cake and still want more. I ate relatively healthy when people were looking, so they were confused as to where my weight came from. They didn't see me downing the four cupcakes I'd gotten at that specialty bakery after work.

I did that for another decade. Every SINGLE morning I woke up and said, "today's a new day! Today I start my new diet! I will start eating better! I will lose weight! I won't eat sugar anymore! I am a new woman!"....... and by 10am I'd already eaten a Snickers out of the break room vending machine. The desire to change, matched with the lack of control, was so painful that I had to eat over it. It was a horrible, vicious cycle. I could not get out of it. I wanted to, but I was trapped.

When you are in the grip of an addiction, you live as if you are strung up by your arms and legs. Paralyzed, unable to move this way, or that. Depression and denial keep you in a zombie-like state, where you feel like you're moving through molasses. You feel helpless, hopeless, angry, sad, and ashamed. I can't count the times I thought, "what's the use? Might as well just eat and eat. No one cares. No one knows. You'll never escape. You'll always be this way. So just give in." And you do. On the one hand you want to stop....on the other, you don't because it feels sooooo good to drown in the food. You are literally torn between two worlds and a slave to the cycle of eating and restricting that spins between those worlds.

I won't go into the long story about how I got out of it. That's a tale for another day. Just know that I DID escape and I HAVE reached my goal and I WILL never go back. :happy: But you wanted to know how we got into it, so there you go. That's my version of it. Hope that gives you some insight.