I might delete this post later because it's depressing, but for now, a reminder to myself of some of the many reasons I'm doing this.
Things I don't do because I'm fat:
* Shave my legs or bikini line. It's actually physically difficult when you have so much chub to work around.
* Go to the hairdresser, massage therapist, pedicurist, etc. Why bother? Nobody - me included - is going to think I look pretty with my new hairdo, because all anyone sees is fat.
* Keep in touch with Pre-Fat friends. I'm embarrassed for them to see me like this, so I've let a lot of friendships slide.
* Buy clothes. Gone are the days when I could walk into Cue or Portmans and be pretty sure I’d fit into a size 10. Now I can’t even duck into Target, yank a size 20 muumuu off the rack and buy it without trying it on because it might turn out to be uncomfortably tight. And even when I do find something that fits, I resent buying it because ‘it’s a waste of money because I’m going to lose weight’. Sure thing, chubber guts. Just go naked, nobody will mind at all.
* Socialise. I'm just uncomfortable in social situations. I take up too much room and I never have anything to wear. Also, if a fat person is eating in public – even if it’s dinnertime, even if she’s eating a fucking salad – you just know everybody is thinking ‘put down the fork, lardo’.
Other things I hate about being fat:
* Thigh rub. You know, where you have to wear leggings under everything or you chafe, and you can’t wear shorts because they ride up into your clacker as you walk.
* Not being able to wear long boots because the zip won’t do up over my calves. On that matter, I’ve gained half a shoe size since putting on 30-odd kgs! Even my feet are fat!
* Accidentally catching sight of myself in a mirror/glass window/background of a photo and cringeing at the massive hosebeast I have become. Oh, and worse? Not wanting any photos taken of me. None. Not even with my kids, who are beautiful and who love me no matter what I weigh. All those memories I haven’t immortalised because I don’t want lasting evidence of my humongousness. All those family events people will look back on later and wonder where I was because I’m not in any of the photos. It’s fucking depressing.
* Feeling like I have to draw attention to the fact that I’m fat (because of course nobody would have noticed if I didn’t point it out) and I have to crack jokes about it to show I don’t care. I DO care. And the person I’m joking to probably knows I care and it makes them feel even sorrier for me that I’m not only fat but I’m miserable about it.
* Everything is just so much harder. Tying your shoes, squeezing between chairs at a restaurant, getting out of bean bags, hurrying across the road to beat the lights with all the associated wobbling and jiggling and hoping the person in the car watching you jog across the road in front of them is even fatter than you.
End sucky post.
Things I don't do because I'm fat:
* Shave my legs or bikini line. It's actually physically difficult when you have so much chub to work around.
* Go to the hairdresser, massage therapist, pedicurist, etc. Why bother? Nobody - me included - is going to think I look pretty with my new hairdo, because all anyone sees is fat.
* Keep in touch with Pre-Fat friends. I'm embarrassed for them to see me like this, so I've let a lot of friendships slide.
* Buy clothes. Gone are the days when I could walk into Cue or Portmans and be pretty sure I’d fit into a size 10. Now I can’t even duck into Target, yank a size 20 muumuu off the rack and buy it without trying it on because it might turn out to be uncomfortably tight. And even when I do find something that fits, I resent buying it because ‘it’s a waste of money because I’m going to lose weight’. Sure thing, chubber guts. Just go naked, nobody will mind at all.
* Socialise. I'm just uncomfortable in social situations. I take up too much room and I never have anything to wear. Also, if a fat person is eating in public – even if it’s dinnertime, even if she’s eating a fucking salad – you just know everybody is thinking ‘put down the fork, lardo’.
Other things I hate about being fat:
* Thigh rub. You know, where you have to wear leggings under everything or you chafe, and you can’t wear shorts because they ride up into your clacker as you walk.
* Not being able to wear long boots because the zip won’t do up over my calves. On that matter, I’ve gained half a shoe size since putting on 30-odd kgs! Even my feet are fat!
* Accidentally catching sight of myself in a mirror/glass window/background of a photo and cringeing at the massive hosebeast I have become. Oh, and worse? Not wanting any photos taken of me. None. Not even with my kids, who are beautiful and who love me no matter what I weigh. All those memories I haven’t immortalised because I don’t want lasting evidence of my humongousness. All those family events people will look back on later and wonder where I was because I’m not in any of the photos. It’s fucking depressing.
* Feeling like I have to draw attention to the fact that I’m fat (because of course nobody would have noticed if I didn’t point it out) and I have to crack jokes about it to show I don’t care. I DO care. And the person I’m joking to probably knows I care and it makes them feel even sorrier for me that I’m not only fat but I’m miserable about it.
* Everything is just so much harder. Tying your shoes, squeezing between chairs at a restaurant, getting out of bean bags, hurrying across the road to beat the lights with all the associated wobbling and jiggling and hoping the person in the car watching you jog across the road in front of them is even fatter than you.
End sucky post.
