I first found out about this site from an acquaintance I found through a doctor we both knew of. She said it has helped her a great deal, and has allowed her to meet some women out there who have suffered from gigantomastia, too. It's a rare condition, but a real one--more often than is reported by the media, thank God...
Since I can keep relative anonymity on this site, I'm eager and a little curious to share. I haven't really found anything but seldom attended support groups online, until I came across this group on this website. I have always been a very private person, both by my nature and by the incapacitating extent of this condition, and would like to keep it that way. However, if there are others out there like me, I'm sure we could find common ground for empathy.
A little about myself. My name is Amber. I am 31, and live in Canada. At around the age of 9, I began to develop very quickly. By the time I was 10, I was a G cup... try finding 26G cup bras... by 11, I was a J cup. By the time puberty really kicked in, I got super-tall, and they started to accelerate even more. It was a blur of new bras and different tricks for clothes, just so I could go to school, but by the time I was 14, they weighed more than I did, altogether.
They have never stopped growing, and each breast continues to get larger at a steady rate each year. At this point, my whole life has been customized to accommodate my condition--a disability, really.
I am only thankful that I come from a well-off family, and that I've had the resources to ensure that I live a relatively normal life. I live in a custom home, built for me for the long-term. The ceiling is lined with a set of tracks and a crane that carry my breasts when I want to get from one point of the house to the other.
I know this sounds like an odd way to get around, but it really is necessary. My breasts have long-since grown to the point where I am absolutely pinned to the ground if all their weight is unsupported. I'm so large, that if I'm at the hospital for an exam, I not only have to use a special vehicle to get there and a special cart to get around the hospital, but it takes a special effort to lift one of my breasts onto an exam table--and that's if I can make it where I'm going without encountering any narrow doors.
Needless to say, it's not much of a life, I suppose, being housebound because you're life support for a pair of breasts. But I am happy. People generally assume I'm not, but I am, really. It's a simple life, I guess. If you can barely remember a time before you had breasts that ruled your life, you'd think them pretty commonplace, right? I do have a wonderful woman who is my best friend, roommate, caregiver, errand runner, bather, and soul mate. I read a lot, play video games, watch movies. Just doing the best I can.
If there is anyone on this site who would like to talk about this condition, who can empathize, I would like to hear from you. I've gotten a great deal from women who suffer the same condition--there's a certain misery loves company quality about it?
Written on July 18th, 2012