I’m going to die

I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die.  And I’m pretty sure if nothing changes it will be soon… like, this year.  I feel like a 90-year-old woman, all worn out and achy.  My heart has a little panic every now and again. And sometimes I find breathing a bit of a bugger.

This should come as no surprise to me.  I’m wildly overweight (250lbs with a BMI of 45.1) with a nearly sedentary lifestyle.  But up until now my body has been amazing!  I’ve always been fat but relatively healthy – so I wasn’t expecting it to fall apart so quickly and completely.

(Ok, that’s not fair.  It hasn’t fallen apart completely. You know how if you own and love a car you can tell when it’s on the verge of something going wrong?  The engine just doesn’t idle right, or the engine temperature is higher than you’re used to? So you take it to the garage but they tell you it all looks okay, but it’s getting on in miles and could do with an oil change.  You know that’s not it but you go ahead with the oil change – next thing you know you’re stranded on the side of the motorway with smoke pouring out of your cracked engine block.   Well, I’m at that ‘should my whole car rock when the engine idles?’ stage and I can feel in my bones that a catastrophic breakdown is looming.

So something has to change.  I have to change. Because if I don’t, my family and I will miss so very many things.

I am going to die.