The Bitter Truth

Welcome to "The Unbearable Fatness of Being . . . Me," wherein I will explore the past and future of my body, fitness, health, self-esteem (and self-loathing), and, of course, weight and food issues. And lifestyle. And my future in general. And probably a whole mess of other stuff related to every part of my life, since I've reached a point where my weight, and my feelings about it, now affect everything else in my life. How sad is that???! I know I'm far from being alone in this, and I think that's even sadder still. I'm pissed off at our society that encourages us to obsess this way ( and, yes, I am aware that there're a lot of other things going on the world more important than weight loss, but I won't be tackling that here; so, thanks for not attacking me for that . . . God, am I defensive, or what?! I'll be trying to work on that too . . . ) but right now I'm more pissed at myself. It so wasn't always like this. (Prepare for whining) I used to be so effortlessly thin, my stomach so perfectly flat . . . exactly the kind of 'girl' (can I still call myself that, 6 months away from 40?) that would piss me off now, if we were to meet, the fat and the thin--piss me off, leave me feeling jealous and depressed . . . mostly depressed . . . and running for a little snicky-snack to make me feel better. This last part, while it may be a 'duh' for those more enlightened than I currently am, is something I'm only now becoming conscious of. I hope to become aware of many more things on this journey, as I feel I've been sleepwalking (more like sleepstrolling) through my life for a long time now. That's why I had to choose the title I did, because I have to come to terms with the painful truth: the 'me' of today is a fat girl, woman, lady (hmm), chick. I am fat. I am Fat. As opposed to those women who grew up chunky and, even after losing 'the weight,' still feel they have a fat chick inside them, I have a very unreasonable skinny chick inside of me. I spent a decade and a half as a sexy, svelte, often pretty woman; the next decade found me chipping away at that image as I packed on pounds, bit by bit, until I reached my current weight (will check what that is tomorrow), something like 70-75 pounds heavier than "who I was." I am still shocked when I see pictures of myself (who the HELL took this awful photo?! oh, shit . . . I look the same in all of them. crap). Still shocked when I see myself naked in the mirror before my shower (every time). Still shocked when clothes don't fit. Still pick up the size 2 pants at Target --how crazy is that?! I am SO far from that, but the skinny chick inside still thinks size 2 is 'normal'--I don't even want to be a size 2 anymore, even if I could. I look at those pictures of myself (back then) and think "God, her head is enormous . . . EAT SOMETHING!" The thing is, I did eat; it just took a while to catch up to me. I think. (About having been a size 0-2: I am 5'0" with a small frame, and that's just the way it was; ain't like that no mo). Used to be when I felt flabby, I just had to drop and do a few crunches and, almost instantly, I'd be right back to 'normal.' Like I said before: ain't like that no mo. So. I no longer feel sexy or pretty. I can't believe how quickly our society's fucked-up messages about women, weight, and worth invaded my fairly watchful brain and eventually took possession of my (fat) being. (Fat and Fatter . . . there's another title). And as fucked-up as those messages are, I am sick of looking and feeling like this. I do not want to be fat anymore! And it's not just the aesthetics of it all; I don't feel well. Migraines, knee surgery, possibly compromised fertility. The time, space, and energy this shit takes up in my brain, my life. This is my Life, man! I HATE worrying about this. So, ironically, my hope is, I guess, that if I worry about it publically, I can conquer the beast and kick it to da curb, once and for all, and FUCKINGGETONWITHMYLIFE. Which is not to say that I won't appreciate the journey, cuz basically I am that kind of person. I just don't want to feel this way or be this way anymore. I don't even know how much weight I want to, or can, lose. What I do know is that I don't want to reach 40 like this. I will not reach 40 like this. (oh, and . . . pardon my french)