Don't blame the eater summary

This is going to be a long post, and I would appreciate if you would read the whole thing before suggesting advice if you plan to do so, thanks in advance :) I will also try to respond to all the comments so feel free to ask questions.
My weight has been a struggle for me for my entire life. I'm 18 years old, and I think the first time I remember having thoughts about my weight was when I was ~6. I was and continue to be decently athletic despite my weight, which for a long time when I was little meant that me being heavy was interpreted as being "bulky" rather than fat. My minor league baseball coach called me the "gentle giant", if that helps to paint a picture.
I think the way I was perceived made me think that being heavy wasn't a bad thing for a long time, but as I started to get into middle school, being big started to become a more negative trait for me. It's worth mentioning that I grew up in a very accepting family and community, so I have very very rarely (not never) been directly called fat or in any way shamed for my weight. Both my parents are overweight. But as anyone who is or has been overweight understands, it doesn't take people saying something to your face to feel the shame of being overweight. I have this perception that society views overweight people as being too lazy to take active steps to becoming healthier, but I know from my own experience that this is not the case, as I'll explain more later.
Going through middle school, my weight, and thus my attractiveness started to influence my social behaviors, and this constant internal battle I had with my self about my weight and image really pained me. Years went on like this. I wore (and continue to wear) baggy clothing and sweatshirts and slouched all the time to hide my stomach and chest. I still do all this stuff even when I'm alone. Despite this negative self image, I tried as hard as a 14 year old can to be sociable and outgoing, and this worked well for me for a long time. Still kinda does. But underneath this positive image I would still get out of the shower and look at my body in the mirror, disgusted with what I saw. I even started working out regularly, doing CrossFit 3 days a week after school, but my eating problems continued. I didn't even realize my eating habits.
I should mention that I was never severely overweight to the point that it physically inhibited me. I was big boned in the truest sense of the phrase. I was still able to have a few girlfriends and romantic interests (if you want to call them that in 7th-10th grade), and though I was clearly overweight, I never discussed it with literally anyone.
Then the covid lockdowns started. Being an introverted person, I was kind of in my element stuck at home for months, but spending all day at home meant unlimited access to food, and you've heard this story before. I was 16 at the time and went from ~210 lbs to over 250 lbs (6'1 male). Shit was awful dude. But I think that at least part of the reason I put up with all my weight gain is that it never interfered directly with my life. I always had a lot of energy for sports, sure, I wasn't the fastest but I could do any outdoor activities I wanted to for as long as I wanted. And this has never changed (I say as a teenager).
One day, on December 3rd, 2020, my mom told me that she had just started using Noom, which is a pretty comprehensive weight loss program, and she asked me if I wanted to try it too. I'm not sure what made me say yes, had she asked me a different day I might have said no, but regardless, I did say yes. It was ~$200. I'm from an upper middle class family so $200, while a lot, was not an enormous amount of money, but as it turned out, the desire to not waste that money was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Years of shame, guilt, and self hatred combined with this $200 incentive finally incited me to begin my weight loss journey.
I stepped on the scale the next morning, and it read 253.6 lbs. My goal was 180 lbs, a number comfortably in my healthy BMI. And I went at it with a level of discipline and persistence that I, to this day, have never matched. I weighed myself every morning, I learned about calorie intake, I learned about calorie density, leptin, ghrelin, eating habits, and the weight began to fall off. In a week, I had lost 8 pounds (most of which was "water weight", ik). In a month, 15. and this went on and on. I didn't tell any friends or non-immediate family that I was loosing weight, just my girlfriend, and I think it's worth a moment telling her story, too.
My girlfriend and I had gotten together summer of 2020, and she had just lost over the past year a mind boggling 80 pounds. While she was at her lightest, I was at my heaviest, and she and I had long discussions about weight loss, her telling me about her journey through it and in her positive, genuine character, encouraging me to to the same (though she made it very clear she had no expectation of me). I'll come back to this in a bit.
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I had gotten into a really good routine over the months, losing weight in a steady, consistent, and healthy manner. By the time I had lost like 30 pounds, I was starting to get the occasional comment on my weight loss, and I know to some people (my gf included) that can be a really hard thing to hear, that felt so fucking good. I began to gain a confidence in myself that I had never felt before and allowed me the courage to get into some social situations that I am benefitting from to this day. By the winter of 2021, I was at 195 pounds, and I looked the best I had in my entire life. But the title wouldn't be what it is if everything stayed that way.
There is this really depressing statistic, that I sometimes wish I didn't know, but I understand why this is the case now. Maybe don't read this if you're losing or want to lose weight:
The vast majority of people who lose large amounts of weight eventually gain it back. My gf (an exercise physiology major) told me this when she heard it in a lecture, but here's a source>! from Michigan University if you want one.!<
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I think about this a lot, but honestly don't know what killed my momentum. I had logged calories for all my meals just about every day until I had to go to a few summer camps (I had been going to these for years) so maybe it was that I couldn't log my meals on my phone there. Whatever the case, I stopped weighing myself every day and for the first time in nearly a year, the times I weighed myself every week or so, my weight began to trend upwards. Upwards and upwards. That shame and guilt began to return, but that wasn't enough to stop me from eating. Not worrying about calories and food in general was such a liberating feeling and it managed to triumph over the negative feelings that followed. Weeks, and then months would pass this way, punctuated by a few weeks of downward momentum as I tried to get back on the boat, but it wasn't enough. Sometimes, I'd lose as much as 20 lbs, just to gain it back and more in a month or two. By January of 2022, I was 235 lbs. I had a good run from Apr 11 of 2023 (231 lbs) to May 3 (224 lbs) but despite that, today I sit at 244.1 lbs. My gf has also gained back all her weight, and today we came to a mutual understanding that this time we're going to stop the upwards trend, and lose weight together. We've tried this before. But I'm really starting to get sick of this. Here's what my journey so far looks like:
I wish I could describe the way looking at this graph feels. Not good.
So, HealthyGamerGG friends, I come to you in an hour of real personal struggle. I'm not here for solutions, this issue is so complex no single reddit post could capture every aspect of my problem. But maybe you have some personal insight into a situation like mine that you'd be willing to share. Dr K if you're reading this, your videos and community have helped me immensely in the past few months, without your platform I would not have the ability or insight to write this post. This took a lot of time, thinking, and reflecting to write. Thank you for reading.