Killing Myself.

Hi. Consider me LovelyLayers.
I'm 25 years young, full of life, yet bounded by a body that's 470 pounds of rage.
I'm tired of being bounded; I want to be free.
I'm tired of being caged; my body never lets me go.
I'm constantly reminded from the minute I wake up to the minute I lay my head down to sleep, that I'm killing myself.
Everything is hard. Everything.
Showering, putting on socks, walking 10 feet, breathing, living; it all takes me every ounce of my wellbeing to accomplish.
I'm young and I should feel that way, yet I feel like I'm 116 years old and on my death bed just waiting for that one last breath.
It's almost as if my body and mind are in two different atmospheres but yet they both crave, want, and need the same thing; to melt the humiliation off of my body.
I know I can be so much more than this.
I can be something in life.
I'm tired of wasting it to food.
My binge eating disorder taunts me daily.
My personality of an emotional eater blossoms daily.
My boredom eating and my constant need for food is eroding daily.
My food addiction is there, waiting, staring me down, holding me down, and winning.
They're all winning.
Now it's my turn.