As for context...
July of last year, I started a weight loss journey. My starting weight was 332 lbs. Fall of that year, my mom had a stroke and when she came home from the hospital, I became one of her caretakers. My responsibility was (and still is) to monitor her and look after her and make sure everything's ok, and tend to basic needs like making sure she takes her pills, fluffing or rearranging her pillows, making her coffee, setting up her food, call for extra help when needed, etc. until my dad comes home from work. The physical stuff like bathing her, transitioning her from the bed to a chair and assisting her to the bathroom are usually things that my dad and brother do because I don't have the physical strength for that. When my dad has a day off from work, I don't have to sit in there with her obviously, I can just mostly be in my room but I still assist with some things.
I managed this responsibility well enough initially, but over time, it's become draining and exhausting. I dedicate at least half of my day to her almost every day. And there's no telling what shift my dad will have on any given day; he can go to work very early in the morning and return early afternoon, he can go to work late in the morning and return in the evening, or he can go to work early in the afternoon and return at night. So, I have to adapt no matter what it is. And the thing is, while I don't do all of the physically demanding stuff, having to sit there with her all day and monitor her can be very taxing. And the thing is, it's a thankless job. I don't get paid for it. I don't get recognized for it. And because I've been exhausted, I've been emotional, and practically nobody in my family is supportive, compassionate or empathetic so I have no one to turn to. So I ended up turning to food. Since late February of this year, I've been overeating to cope.
In late February, I weighed 252 lbs, and a few days after I weighed myself was when the overeating spree began. After avoiding the scale since late February until today, turns out I've gained back 40 lbs. I'm now 293 lbs which is devastating. I feel hopeless, like my time is never going to come and I'm never going to make progress on anything. I failed. I erased all of my progress. Now I'm back to square one and I feel so ashamed. You'd think this would have lit a fire under my ass, but it really just fueled my self-hatred and has caused me to feel defeated. Now I think it's pointless, that I'm never going to get better because every time I try and I make progress, I just mess it up. I believe I am completely worthless. I hate mirrors, I hate cameras, I hate being in this body of mine, I'm so ugly and fat.
I dunno, I've been lurking on this subreddit for a time and everybody here seems so kind and I was hoping to get some words of encouragement and advice from those willing to give them. I'm at my wit's end and it'd be nice to hear from people who understand.
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