I'm 35, 600 lbs, and I know I'm going to die soon.

I actually started writing my whole life story here. Towards the end it looked like I wrote a fucking novel and didn't see the point. It was all garbage trying to mask my own inability to take care of myself. The truth is I'm crippled, I'm fat, and im dying. I don't want to die. I want to be able to walk across my house without my legs and back killing me. I want to be able to hop into my car and go visit my dad. I can barely fit in my car anymore. I'm taking my mother out to eat next week for her birthday and I'm dreading it because its so painful and embarrassing getting in and out of my car. I live with my sweet dear grandmother who fills the house with sweets and salt that I can't stop consuming hand over fist. And I don't have the courage to beg her to stop. I don't have to power the change anything. I just want to go to bed without the fear of dying in my sleep every night.

I don't know what to do to fix myself.

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