I hate myself

I just hate myself. I’m fat but love food. Food is comfort. I’m fat because I eat and I eat because I’m fat.

I look at myself in the mirror and I don’t know the person looking back at me. Those are my eyes. That small scar from chickenpox is still there under my eye.

The fat cheeks, the multiple chins, the sagging skin . . . who is this person?

I hate who I have become, not just on the outside but the inside as well.

I don’t want to die. I have 2 small children that I absolutely adore. I have a wonderful husband. I have a lot of family.

I just hate myself.