First of all, I apologize profusely if this sort of topic/conduct is unacceptable for the group. I didn't know where else to post it all, and the rules didn't explicitly seem to forbid a topic of this sort of orientation, so I figured it wouldn't be too harmful to post it here. If it is though, I'll delete it in a flash! Please don't hurt me

A lot of people would say I'm ridiculous for bringing this sort of topic up up when there are an innumerable amount of graver incidents plaguing both members of this site and our populace as a whole on a daily basis, and some of you may think that a 5,10 19 year old guy being 145lbs isn't really fat at all! Unfortunately, while I'd normally be inclined to agree with you on both segments, I sadly cannot. Keep note that this will be a ginormous wall of text, so read at your own risk pretty much! I'd appreciate it if at least 1 person noticed what I had to say and could offer advice of some sort, but I can totally understand if that won't be the case, I just need somewhere to lay this all out and hopefully help get it off my back a bit!

So essentially, I've been inflicted with a near-obsessive craving of chocolate ever since January of this year: I've been skipping meals and eating less solely so that on certain days I may purchase large quantities of chocolate and gorge out on them over the process of a day. While it initially proves to be rather therapeutic in its own way, almost immediately afterwards a conglomeration of negative emotions flush over me - regret, lethargy, disgust, multiple layers of self-loathing, anxiety over my weight. It's exactly the same story every time, yet for whatever reason I never seem to learn, my mind always repeatedly demands an encore every few days, and my body, however unwillingly suffers as a slave to my mind, a mind which previously steeled itself to any sorts of confectionery-related temptations back in late 2013. This temptation has proved detrimental in dimensions both obvious and more implicitly related - my body has evidently been negatively affected, having gained 30lbs and widened out in a way which nobody would really see as a blessing. So I'm a fat ****, a pig if you will - what's the big deal?

However, the starker problems are in seemingly unrelated areas in my life. I have continually noticed that because both my cravings for food and my weight-related worries are constantly on the mind, I have dedicated less focus and interest to my academic studies and have become far more shut in and anxious about meeting with friends and accomplices. Even walking through a town filled to the brim with strangers proves a daunting and intimidating prospect because of how I feel like an absolute abomination, and no matter how many times I say I shouldn't be gorging myself silly, and no matter how awful I feel after the vile act, it just repeats like an unbroken loop. A seemingly endless cycle which I frankly feel completely helpless at breaking. I've tried multiple different methods which (in my head) seemed like they could've helped curb the problem - I increased my portions each day, I hid my wallet so I wouldn't be tempted to spend money or even remember where I placed it, I attempted to try and focus my attention on watching animated series to keep myself amused, I tried to rekindle jogging sessions to try and put myself in a healthier mindset. As you'd expect by my posting of this over-extended blog post, none of those solutions proved permanent, and I remained trapped in my subconscious pathetic cravings with seemingly no way out.

Before anybody asks: Body image has always been an underlying hot potato throughout my adolescence, and I have a feeling my own experiences are both typical & atypical to others who have experienced eating disorders.

Ever since I was around 14-15 and began being introduced to the wonderful world of social media, I noticed a rather clear fact regarding my body - I was fat, Portly. Ugly. While nobody had directly indicated it to me somehow, I knew that it was what many of my acquaintances thought. Since then, I regressed into a state of what I'll call passive self-loathing - while I despised the way I looked, constantly called myself fat and wanted to better my physical attributes, I never actually acted on these desires until about a year and a half after graduating high school (in the UK, which is at 16) and entering my first year of 6th form (essentially the American form of high school, but optional).

I decided to partake in jogging, which while initially only breaking my spirit and making me realize how pathetic and useless I actually was, gave me some wonderful results when I got into the groove of things and actually allowed me to cut back on some of the food I consumed in tandem with this - I felt great on top of slowly but surely losing weight. I went from around 12 stone 10 (180-ish lbs) to 10 and a half stone (147 lbs) in just 10 months, which considering my inactivity at the time and the relative lightness of my exercise, was actually pretty good! This, for the record, started roughly in February 2012, and that latter figure was at around March/April of last year.

Of course, I still felt overweight, and had a pressing desire to lose more weight to be able to feel better about myself, something which my family noticed and had multiple objections towards. They assumed I was "slim enough" but I disagreed (and still do) and proceeded to try and jog more consistently and eat less than I had before, persisting over the winter as well as the summer and autumn months when I started. Over time, I managed to go under 10 stone and felt great about myself, but still felt like my task was incomplete, and continued to jog in spite of my family's protests. They even assumed I was becoming anorexic, which was a ridiculous assumption, and eventually, by about June 2013, I managed to become exactly 9 stone (126 lbs) and, mostly satisfied, stopped jogging altogether, although my habit of eating significantly less than before still persisted, for better or for worse.

My parents constantly beckoned me to eat more, though I never wanted any extra food and refused it if offered, getting incensed if it was enforced upon me. All the same though, I felt satisfied with my body, happier than I had ever been before, even if nobody else seemed to. A lot of people, not just my family, thought I looked too skinny at this time, but I didn't have any health problems and was happy overall with the way I looked, so I just proceeded with this pattern for the remainder of 2013. By November, I had managed to slim down to 8 stone 3 (115 lbs), and though a lot of people expressed concern with my weight at this time, I still wished to stay the way I was (and I wish I was able to return to that weight region now). Christmas of that year inevitably reintroduced me to chocolate treats, via the obligatory Christmas gifts obtained from both family and friends. While I initially resisted the allure, a few days later, I gave in and had a few pieces, and all of a sudden, I was absolutely hooked on the food, almost as if it were an illegal contraband substance. As you can probably guess if you read his monumental wall of angsty text, this is where things went downhill for me, and nearly a year later, have only worsened.

So the inevitable question to any unfortunate reader reveals itself - what can I do to break out of this frankly pitiful (yet fatal) cycle? I've tried multiple different courses of action I thought may've helped cure me of this mental weakness, yet none have proved successful as of yet. I feel as if presenting my experience as a question to people may help garner a response or two, which could prove helpful in finding a way to break out of my food-related delusions and return to my normal 115 lb perkier self again. If there are any additional questions you wish to ask me about this, please don't hesitate to do so - I'm more than open to anything you may have to say, be it constructive or otherwise. Thank you so much for reading through this frankly desperate post, I'm immensely grateful, even if you feel you've wasted a good few minutes of your life in the process!

Have you spoken to a therapist yet? The first step to recovery is getting a therapy..