My foot is asleep.
It is nearly 4 in the morning, blisteringly hot, and I can’t get comfortable enough to return to dream land because my foot had fallen asleep.
This wouldn’t normally be a problem for me, but my roommate and I had fought earlier, and as such I was having issues sleeping as it was. On any normal night I could just fall asleep right away, since sleeping was normally easy for my lazy self. I just put my head down, shut my eyes, and bam, I was asleep. That wasn’t working tonight of course, and as such I was awake and having to deal with my throbbing foot. Alone. That wasn’t fun for me to do at all, and I had to very strongly resist the urge to call out to Rob in order to get him up to bring me some sleeping pills. He knew where they were, and I did not, so it wasn’t like I could go and get them myself. I wanted to, but… Rooting around in the bathroom at 4 AM on a Saturday after a rather hard night of drinking was not something that I was pining to do, nor co-
Drinking! That could solve my problem… Now if only I could remember where I had left my bottle of scotch. Rob may have taken it with him, but if memory served I still saved a flask laying around somewhere for me to use if I really couldn’t sleep. I am one of the very few lucky ones who would get put right to sleep with drinking, and not only be able to wake up without a hangover, but be able to sleep well and without weird dreams. I knew a few friends who could neither eat nor drink before sleeping, and I could not imagine such a life… That was just a version of hell as far as I am concerned, as my before-bed snack is somewhat of a ritual to me now. I hadn’t partaken in that ritual last night, as I was a little too drunk before I initially fell asleep to want to eat, or to remember if I had eaten for that matter. It was a good party though, in spite of both that lack of memory and the fact that we were celebrating such a trivial thing; a small party for one of my meager accomplishments. I was grateful for it, don’t get me wrong, but it was more of an excuse to have some friends over and have some drinking… Which, honestly, who needs an excuse for that?
I had given up on finding my flask, and instead resorted to simply laying there with my eyes open and staring at the ceiling. That didn’t necessarily help, but I couldn’t come up with anything else to do to get me to sleep. I could let my mind wander though, and that is something which I need to do thanks to the project I am currently working on. It is something that is entirely outside of the realm of my job, and as such I had little time to spare for said project. I am trying to figure out how to dive into stocks again, as working from home was something that had become feasible recently. I had, in essence, been working from home over the past couple of months, but now I want to do it full time and without needing to worry about remoting into the office. I had needed to make trips to the office from time to time as well, and I hated everyone there as well as just needing to go in at all for such small things. I knew that not every trip in had been for small things, but I am having problems focusing on those trips as I start to get more and more reflective as to what had driven me to want to work from home in the first place, and what the party last night had been for. That’s the price of letting my mind wander though, it always likes to go away from where I need it to.
The main reason for the trips to the office was too much of a hassle for me, and the party for me the previous night, was an obvious one when anyone looked at me: I had just lost my mobility. I still had both of my legs on me… Somewhere… But I had gained so much weight over the past few years that getting myself out of bed on my own was now a physical impossibility. I didn’t mind it necessarily, but it was a change that I had to get used to the realities of. For example, I was unable to get out of the bed without Rob’s help now, as even sitting up was just too hard for me to do thanks to the utterly massive sack of fat which rested sturdily on my midsection. Rob had taken care of me the entire time, letting me gain all of my weight and letting me just laze around while I worked. He was always so kind nowadays, but he hadn’t always been this way to me.
I had been caught dealing drugs at my high school nearly five years earlier, a crime which I did not commit, and because I had been a minor, I had been given no jail-time, and instead a very long sentence of house arrest. As I started my sentence, my parents both abandoned me and left me to be a ward of the state, while under house arrest. It was quite the transition, and no court really knew what to do about it at first, but it was eventually settled as I was found a foster home in which I could serve the remainder of my sentence. It wasn’t an amazing place by any means, but it was above a restaurant, so I got to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Being above a place where I could work without violating my sentence was a huge bonus to me, but it took a huge toll on my frame as the three year sentence I needed to serve truly got underway.
I first got my G.E.D., then my online diploma during my time living in the second-story apartment above the restaurant. All of the time it took to do those, the learning, the research… I was inevitably going to gain a few pounds from being sedentary while I learned. My eating habits ensured that those couple of pounds turned into a couple hundred pounds over the two and a half years it took to get all of those things learned and taken care of. I got a very good education out of it though, and a degree in economics from one of the few reputable online colleges that I could find. I also got that degree in two years, which ensured I got a job very quickly as soon as I got my diploma. In order to truly secure that job though, I needed to get myself out to the employer, and that was something that would involve violating my house arrest. Rob was living with me by that time, and he had no problem letting me leave and get to the interview, but luck wasn’t on our side that day. I got caught, and my job dreams were shattered.
In spite of being near the end of my sentence and having not once violated it for two years, nine months, and six days, the judge extended it for a year. He had a huge hard-on for sticking it to anyone who dealt drugs, even though I had not touched them since I was caught dealing, and had majorly turned my life around that whole time. I couldn’t afford a lawyer to say otherwise though, as the restaurant paid be enough to afford my education and little more. I had to pay some amount of rent too, so I was starting to feel the financial strain at that point, and though I pleaded that point with the judge, it fell on deaf ears. So I was sentenced to another year in my second-story prison, with nothing but a job downstairs and my growing waistline to keep me company. Rob was there for me too, and he kept me from eating myself into oblivion as a result of the verdict… Because I most certainly did try once I had waddled myself back into my room and stopped screaming in both rage and disappointment.
I got myself calmed down after a few days of my new reality setting in, and set to work finding an online job. They were slim pickings, but I did manage to find one, and was able to start paying my own bills again without Rob’s help. He kept me fed and took care of me, essentially becoming my second father that year as he saw me truly begin to flourish as a full-blown adult. Before that year, he had somewhat passively watched over me and kept me out of trouble more out of obligation rather than because he was being kind. His kindness was there though, and he finally tapped into it once the trial happened because he saw me for what I was for the first time; not the drug dealer I had been painted to be, but rather someone who had been screwed by the system. He then set out to make it up to me in his own way, and since then has been my closest and most trusted friend to me. And I reciprocated it in kind, helping him out with money in any way I could as I began to dip my toes into the stock market and bank-based economics.
It was then that I finally made a lawyer friend who got me out of my sentence. He gave out the precedent in the case, produced some new evidence and witnesses, and then went all out saying that I was intentionally being kept in the house with a known eating disorder to drive me so far out of shape that leaving wasn’t an option; entrapment or something is what it was called. I didn’t like his logic for that portion of his argument, but it worked as I was given an early release and a formal apology from the court, and a quick settlement as I immediately sued the city for all of what had transpired. I paid my lawyer fees with the money, and took what little I had left to pay off my student loans and start to look in earnest for a job. My weight had shot up over the time between being given a longer sentence and getting the ruling overturned, and I was nearing immobility then too. I was still working in the restaurant, but in the kitchen cooking now, and even that was getting to be nearly too much of a challenge. It was of course due to the severe depression which had overtaken me throughout my time of being at home, but now that I was able to get out into the world… I saw no reason to be as depressed as I had been. Getting back onto my feet was going to be a challenge with how tired my feet were, so I decided that a diet would be in order once I found a new job.
I found a job fast at a local bank which was only a few short minutes away, and I decided to kickstart my diet by walking to work. That only worked out once though, as showing up to work on your first day dripping in sweat and panting was not a good impression to make. So it was public transportation for me for the time being, but I would lose weight I told myself, I would get back in shape. I did not relish being so big, but it was my own fault so I wanted to try and take care of it on my own. Working a full-time job, working slowly but surely on my master’s degree, and getting taken care of so expertly by Rob didn’t help that, so instead of losing weight for the first year after my release, I just maintained my size at near-immobility. This isn’t to say that I didn’t get stronger and lose a few pounds of water weight, but by and large I was still much heavier than I wanted to be, and it bothered me.
My weight finally stopped bothering me once I came to terms with that I was just going to be a huge one for the rest of my life. I had gotten so used to the weight, so taken care of by Rob, and so complacent with the fact that it was just another piece of me that I just accepted it and moved on. That acceptance was really when my life truly began, as it took only a month of accepting my size before I discovered just what I could gain from being my size. A massive following online who wanted to fatten me up even more, countless attention to my belly alone, new ways to strengthen myself up, even more attention from Rob… All of it came to me as soon as I just let my size become another part of me. I couldn’t have gotten more of a boost to my confidence and pride, and it came at the perfect time for me too as I truly began to delve into both my job and my life. I was happy for the first time in a long time, and it was going to last if I had anything to do with it.
And that leads me to where I am now. I’m happy, just peeking into being immobile for the first time in my life, and making boatloads of money from being assistant manager at the bank where I work. My life is a true success story, and I couldn’t be more proud of myself for doing it mostly myself. Rob had been there for me through it all, helping me in my darkest hour and then onto my brightest time. I feel like I owe him, but he always insists I don’t… I don’t know how I am going to ever repay him for all that he has done and all that he will do. Granted, he doesn’t have to take care of me anymore now that I have a permanent caretaker who broke it to me that he was moving in last night. He still will though, and that makes me happier than I want to admit, so I won’t. But either way, I have a good thing going on in my life, and with this latest change to that good thing, I want to keep it going.
All of the reminiscing I had done over the nearly 20 minutes I had been thinking about how I wound up plastered to the bed where I was made me chuckle, as I was so distracted that I didn’t even notice my foot wake up. With a wiggle of my toes to make sure, and a content sigh as my mind began to calm down, I shut my eyes and settle in to sleep again. Settling in at my size is an easy task; just wobble around some on your base and you get comfy pretty quickly. It is that easy for me too, as I got right into a comfy spot almost immediately. My breathing starting to slow and the warm embrace of sleep washing over me, I took one last look at the past few years of my life just to remind myself of how well I had done. It made me happy, and being happy as I fall asleep is something that I always strive for.
Of course, I couldn’t fall asleep if my arm beat me to it at 4:30AM.
And it did.