Diet or die! I’ve lost 21 stone to stay alive
At 32st, Tracy Sevenoaks was told she was going to die unless she took drastic action…
‘You’re going to kill yourself,’ my doctor said bluntly. ‘Through food. You’re putting too much pressure on your heart. You’re at risk of type 2 diabetes. If you don’t do something right now, you’ve only two years to live.’
Harsh words. My hands shook and my eyes filled with tears. I was 25, 32st and a size 32.
I knew I was overweight, but to be told I was killing myself… I had five children at home! ‘Please,’ I stammered. ‘Help me.’ I hadn’t always been morbidly obese – my mammoth weight gain had taken years. In my teens, I was 5ft 7in and a size 10-12.
I swam a lot and took healthy packed lunches to school – a sandwich, fruit, crisps and yoghurt.
But everything changed when I fell pregnant at 16. I’d been with my boyfriend, Paul, for four years, but it was a complete shock. While my mates started college and Paul went out to work, I’d eat my way through the days at home.
I had a sweet tooth and would treat myself – and my bump – to a tub of chocolate ice cream in one sitting. In the evenings, we’d order takeaways. By the time our gorgeous boy, Charlee, was born in March 2000, I was a size 20.
I loved being a mum, but it was hard knowing my teenage friends had no responsibilities. I started to feel depressed – food was my friend, my comfort.
By the time baby Kane arrived, two years later, I was a size 24. It was tough having two kids under three, especially when Kane was later diagnosed with ADHD and autism. But I adored my kids and, desperate for a daughter, I fell pregnant again in 2004.
When baby Jessica arrived, we were thrilled, but my self-esteem was at an all-time low. Paul was supportive, but I was addicted to food, eating every 30 minutes.
I talked to my doctor, who prescribed antidepressants. While I took the kids to playgroups and the park, I barely left the house for anything else. I longed to take the kids swimming, but I couldn’t be seen in public in a swimsuit. Instead, I covered up in baggy trousers and giant T-shirts.
Eventually, Paul and I split, and I found a new partner before going on to have Harvey, now 13, and Maddison, 12. I had myself sterilised at 22, but I felt like Vicky Pollard from LittleBritain – going out with one baby in a sling, two on reins, one in the buggy and one on a buggy board.
While I was strict about the kids’ diet, the same couldn’t be said for me. I’d munch multipacks of crisps, then, half an hour later, I’d have more food cravings.
It was an addiction. I tried diets, slimming groups and dietitians, but the weight stayed on. By 2007, I was 32st.
That’s what spurred me on to see my GP. In October 2008, at King’s College Hospital, London, I had a gastric sleeve operation. Part of my stomach was removed, so I simply couldn’t eat so much any more.
It was terrifying, but I survived the surgery and was tubefed in hospital for a couple of days. When I was released, I could only have fluids before moving on to liquidised foods like soup and veg.
In six weeks, I’d shed 5st. After two years, I was down to 20st and a size 24. The kids really noticed
the difference in me. ‘ You look great, Mum,’ they said.
I’d go to a women-only gym first thing in the morning, before school. I could finally get down on the floor to play with the kids, pick up toys and vacuum.
In February 2012, my mum, Janet, now 58, lent me money for a boob job, as they’d shrunk from a DD to an A. Afterwards, I felt so much more feminine. But my shrinking frame brought another issue – the problem of excess skin.
I kept getting fungal infections that smelt awful, because no air was getting under the folds of my skin. In December 2016, weighing 12st and a size 14, I had almost 3,500g (8lb) of skin removed, and more in May this year.
Now, I’m 11st 2lb and a size 10. I wear skinny jeans, dresses and heels, and feel so confident. I’m off the antidepressants, and my kids are so proud of me. ‘I can’t believe you were ever that big,’ Jessica says when we look at old photos.
Now, at 35, I’m working fulltime as a make-up artist and a carer, and I finally feel like me.
I happily take the kids to the beach and wear a bikini in our hot tub at our home in Stevenage, Hertfordshire. My life has changed completely. Addiction is a scary thing, but it’s vital to know there is help out there. It might just save your life – like it did mine.
‘Now, I’m 11st 2lb and a size 10. I wear skinny jeans, dresses and heels, and feel so confident’