Even My Ovaries Are Fat: Just Another Weight-Related Bitchfest

I have a hard time believing I was ever fatter than this.

Right now if I poke any part of my body, my finger will be engulfed and quickly lost in at least 2 inches of  superfluous fat, not to be discovered again until 2032 when I have it surgically removed, having mistaken it for a malignant tumor.  It’s a bad scene, my body. A bad scene.

What’s all the more disturbing is that two years ago I was 45 pounds fatter than this.

Fatter.

THAN THIS!

not me...not yet

I should have diabetes just for talking about it.

I lost the weight by eating really REALLY healthy and not exercising at all. It was like, the best plan ever. But it stopped working when I stopped eating healthy, and started spending my time swimming in a pool of shame and Burger King Carmel Frappes, poking my stomach with a ruler and crying inside. It’s like my very own sorority initiation up in here. Minus the Victoria’s Secret sweatpants.

PINK: The uniform for low IQ females

My sister is both thin and a nutritionist, making me violently hate her. We have a mostly symbiotic relationship. I give her hair and makeup advice. She tells me how not to die. I’d say we’re even. We recently spent a week emailing back and forth about my problems with binge eating and general nutritional inadequacies. We developed a diet plan for me to follow and I was feeling rather hopeful that I would not keel over dead at 30. But of course I, being the Meryl Streep of self-sabotage, clumsily fumbled through a week and a half of mismanaged eating, losing nothing but the self confidence that I would ever be able to stop adding a slice of cheese to anything microwavable.

It ain't no big thang

A week or so later my sister came home for my mother’s birthday. I woke up early so I could sneak into her room and play the old childhood standby “Funny Uncle,” but as always, the sound of my breathing from two rooms away already woke her up, so I was left with nothing to talk about but my diet. The conversation went something like this:

Sister: So how’s your diet going?

Me: I …I…um, what?

Sister: what, fat clogging your ears? I said diet, fat ass.

Me: Duh…I mean. I don’t know.

Sister: You’re disgusting.

Me: *cries*

A few hours later she tried again and the conversation went slightly better. But it’s been almost a week later and I have yet to discipline myself enough to stop eating like a rabid pig. I’m reaching a turning point though. I can feel it. Sometimes people need to hit an emotional rock bottom before deciding to better themselves and with Titanic previews encompassing much of my life and free time, I am one “But the ship can’t sink!” away from offing myself.

Love,

The girl who would rather be his whore than your wife

About thegirlwiththeblog

At any given time I can be found moisturizing my elbows and searching for words that rhyme with orange.

Posted on March 29, 2012, in fat fatties talking about fat and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. I like to rationalize my weight gain in the winter, makes me feel not so shitty about myself. I use less electricity cause I don’t have to run the heater, yeah, that’s a plus! I start to have serious problems when my gut sticks out further than my boobs, I really hate that… but then I salute my boobs with a beer and forget about what I was upset about.

    Any of this helping with your Titanic tendencies?

  2. I like the cut of your sister’s jib.

  3. I used to be a much bigger lad (right around the 320lbs mark). Then I spent a few years eating one meal a day of low carb torture food and going to the gym 5 days a week. I lost about 90lbs. Since then, I’ve started eating whatever the fuck I want and drinking enough to make my Irish ancestors proud little corpses, and scaling gym visits to 2-3 times a week. I’ve gained back like 40lbs.

    Now I constantly weigh the immediate happiness of drinking a bottle of wine, with some fancy Wegman’s cheese and a baguette, against the future prospects of a woman wanting to touch me in the no-no area.

  1. Pingback: Inspiration awarded! « Single Again

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