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I suspect that I was outsourcing my own eating

Adam Dalva at Longreads: Every Sunday evening, I open the fridge, reach into the vegetable crisper, grab a pen, screw in a needle, pinch my stomach, and inject Ozempic. It hurts a bit, but I’ve gotten used to it. Twenty-five pounds down, 20 to go.

Twenty-five pounds down, 20 to go. I put on the weight after my brother died—the distor.

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