I can't believe I’m stuck like this, wedged helplessly between the wall and the sink in the guest bathroom. My wide hips press uncomfortably against the edge of the sink, pinning me in place. No amount of twisting or wriggling seems to make any difference—I’m trapped. I can feel the weight of my own body pressing down on me, making every movement a Herculean effort. I hear him laughing as he heads off for a shower. I feel my cheeks flush with a mixture of frustration and humiliation. I’ve gotten so fat and out of control that I’m literally stuck in my own bathroom. I keep pushing and pulling, my arms aching and my breath laboring, but it’s no use. My frustration mounts as I realize that I’m just too obese to free myself from this absurd predicament. This isn’t just a physical trap—it’s a symbol of how far I’ve let myself go, a harsh mirror reflecting back the reality that I'm too helplessly addicted to change.