Tummy is all hurty this morning. I am getting too much fiber in the new diet I think, but fiber is good! With the help of fiber, among other things, I have lost close to 7 pounds! 6.6 is actually the grand total, but I think we should be allowed to round up. I doubt if I will lose anything this week due to my new found and hopefully temporary apathy though. It’s difficult for someone so indulgent to suddenly and so rigidly change everything about them with little or no warning to the brain that depends so heavily on yummy things for comfort and sustenance. I think it is so difficult because most people have no idea how hard it is. They think that all overweight people are just lazy slobs who “let themselves go” but rarely that is the case. I maintained a good weight for a long time there, I am still not sure what caused me to get to the size I am now, but the fact of the matter is that I let food become comfort, a problem solver, a boredom reliever, and that is where the problem lies. People who have an unhealthy relationship with food will abuse it like drugs, but it is by and far the hardest addiction to get over. Fuck heroin, fuck methamphetamine, fuck weed, fuck alcohol, fuck crack, not one of them holds a frickin candle to the almighty Food. The hardest times are when I am home alone waiting for Jeff to get home. I used to sit there and play my video game and graze for an hour or so. When he is home I have that watchdog element going on. I need that around because the minute I get discouraged I am standing there staring into my pantry like a puppy in a pet store window. “Please get me out of here, take me home to Fat and Happy Land!” I think therein lies the problem though. I can change my dietary habits, that’s easy, but changing the emotional response requires more than a weekly meeting. There is more to healthy eating than eating healthy. I am considering maybe starting to see someone, doctor like, about this relationship I have with my food. I don’t just play with it, I nurture it, teach it things, make love to it, it is my one and only. Ever hear of dogs at the pound that have food aggression? Just try and take something off my plate without my permission. I bite. Hard.
These are all things that your average healthy person never seems to understand about the overweight. It just makes me sick. I hate having to lose weight so that society will take me seriously. I hate people pitying me because I am “such a pretty girl BUT sadly overweight…” I just want to smack all those people who have rated me an 8.5 on hot or not. I actually think it is really funny. I would almost like to stay large just so I can continue to prove to the world that it is possible to be fat and attractive.
So why am I doing this? I admit I have to think about it. The reasons change so frequently. I don’t want fat children. (main thing here) I don’t want to be a fat bride, if that time comes. I don’t want to continue to embarrass my family with my weight. I am tired of my back and knees hurting all the time. I am sick of looking at my fat ass and thighs and belly and not being able to be on top without my boyfriend turning blue. I want to be able to be bendy when I need to be. I want to get rid of this fucking double chin. I want to be active without feeling like choking on my own vomit just so that I can die and not have to DO this anymore. I like activity! I just want to be able to do it. I want to be the kick-ass-take-no-shit-blonde-bombshell-with-a-brain-and-big-tits chick I was in High School. I want to be able to believe my boyfriend when he tells me that I am beautiful.
That’s about it. I just want to have someone tell me that I am beautiful and not want to smack them for being nice. I just want to believe it once.
Oh here comes another subject change, Steve bought Taylor a ring. Oh excuse me, THE Ring… It is beautiful. I was all teary when he showed me. Now out of my NC girly threesome I will be the only unmarried one. Which is ok, but I can’t make fun of my sister for being married anymore. It should be a very good Valentine’s day for Ms. Taylor.
OK, I gotta quit writing before someone catches me.
~ B.e.d.