This blog often contains uncomfortable subject matter and occasional sexual content. If you don't want to read about it, empower yourself to close the page. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I am obsessed with having problems. So... Here is a thing that is happening lately. I am at my heaviest ever - approaching 150 pounds. I see my ideal weight as 125 pounds. This is a problem. Somehow I didn't notice myself getting bigger, at least to this extent. Then some time within the last week, I undressed to get in the shower and saw myself in the mirror. I panicked. I hadn't realized my belly was this big, somehow. I pulled out the scale and panicked some more. Time to buckle down. Really eat right this time, really start exercising again. And in the meantime, buy some new clothes that fit and flatter me better. So I went to Goodwill. JK wanted to tag along for some reason. I tried to warn him it would take hours. I tried on twenty pairs of jeans, no exaggeration. Three sort of fit. One was too long, all three were slightly tight around my belly and way too baggy behind my thighs. Story of my life. They'd have to do. Got them home and modeled them for JK, and he found a hole in the seat of the only one that really fit halfway decently. Went back the next day to return them, tried to find some shirts. And I started crying in the fitting room, because I look fucking pregnant. I was on my period, so I'm damn sure not fucking pregnant. Cleaned up my face and went back for round two. Nothing looked good. Everything hugs my belly. Then JK texted and said he was at Goodwill. Probably for the first time, I was dismayed to see him. Because I didn't want him to see me in such a foul mood, depressed over my appearance because I have petty "first world problems", as BK would have said. We chatted for a bit and I did bring up that I was in a very low mood because nothing fit. Then he had to get back to work, so he walked me to my car and we parted ways. I started crying in the car, kept crying as I drove to Target, where I intended to finally swallow my shame and try on maternity clothes, because at least they're designed to fit over a belly. But I just kept crying really hard. I couldn't stop for a while. Anyone who saw me must have figured I'd just been dumped or something. I couldn't go in, so I just drove home. When I got home, I found a Facebook message that JK had sent the previous day - a video of a bunch of women of different sizes trying on "one size fits all" clothing, and their reactions to how ill-fitting it all was. The video was cheesy and didn't tell me anything I didn't already know, but it was a very sweet gesture. It showed that he was trying to reassure me and wanted me to be happy. He ended up texting later to ask how I was doing, and I sent him a message on Facebook to explain everything I've been feeling lately. And he was so sweet, so supportive. He said, "No matter what, you're pretty, you're my girlfriend, and I love you." He said that it was brave and healthy of me to be honest about all this with him - quite the contrast to how BK would have viewed it. It all made me feel a lot better. I ended up in a much better mood toward the end of the night. I'm still being very careful about what I eat. I'm afraid to eat, honestly. Because I don't know what it is that I've been doing to cause me to gain so much weight so fast. Is it the peanut butter? The full fat dairy products? Am I wrong about "fat doesn't make you fat"? I cut way down on carbs off and on, and never saw any results. I eat two or three apples a day? Is it too much natural sugar? I don't know. I don't fucking know because every goddamn source gives contradicting advice. Avoid wheat and grains, no eat plenty of them! Fruits are bad, no, fruits are good. Full fat dairy, no, fat free! And the vegetarian thing complicates things immensely. Like, if I've been wrong about fat this whole time, what the hell am I supposed to eat? I can't live on vegetables and fruits. I need nuts and peanut butter and yogurt and cheese. I need eggs. I'm fucking hungry! But now I'm almost getting off on being hungry. For the last two days (as it has been two days since my Goodwill breakdown), I've been more conscious of how many calories I'm taking in. I'm eating less at a time and waiting longer between the point when I realize I'm hungry, and the point when I allow myself to eat. I've gotten home from work and forced myself to abstain from food for hours. Tonight I didn't even eat a proper dinner, just a bowl of Greek yogurt and orange slices, and some raw celery and broccoli later. I'm still hungry. I can't decide if I'm going to eat or not. I probably will have a little something. It's a concern how I'm reacting to this weight gain by denying myself food when I'm hungry, but it's also kind of exciting... And that's a concern, too. I don't feel like it's the old "not eating makes me feel in control" thing that some people get. It's more a masochistic thing. Like this is my punishment. And it turns out I sort of like the discomfort of the punishment? I don't know a better way to explain it. I need to go find something to eat now, though. Ugh, I'm seriously starting to dread eating lately. I feel dismayed when I have to cave and eat something as innocent as an orange or a spoonful of peanut butter. 10:37 p.m. - 2015-01-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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