NoMoreFat

So Thursday my boyfriend and I went to the grocery store with health in mind. Among the things we bought were lots of fresh fruit and veggies, like grapefruit, clementines, apples, snap beans, zucchini, lettuce, carrots, mushrooms, broccoli, so on and so forth. We also purchased whole grain bread, whole grain pasta, wheat tortillas, almonds, berries, plain yogurt, splenda, and low fat cheese, chicken, turkey, and fish. I am bound and determined to prepare fresh, yummy, healthy meals that we can enjoy and still become healthier.

Now, we have this roommate. He’s a real jerk. He is so cynical, he criticizes everything and is just so negative. He really knows just what to say to make me want to choke him. For instance, the other day I was ranting about some comments that someone made toward women on this message board I post on. Something along the lines of all women being stupid. Roommate says: “Well think about it. How many things can you say you know of that a woman has invented?” Yeah. I hope he is comfortable sleeping with one eye open.

Anyway, on to the point. When we first told him that we were planning to diet, he told us how stupid we are, basically. That we had better not complain if we see a piece of pie and want to eat it. He just thinks the whole thing is so retarded and why live if you can’t enjoy food and yadda yadda yadda. I just kept my mouth shut. I’m doing this regardless of what he thinks or what he likes. So today I am sitting here, and I hear him say, “hey, how bout we batter up that broccoli in the fridge and deep fry it?” Oh hell no. If I catch him deep frying ANYTHING AT ALL that I got on my shopping trip, I am going to shove his face into the grease whilst sodomizing him with a carrot. I cannot wait until we no longer live with this douche.

I only wish I would have done this sooner. See, my entire life, I have been overweight. I am sure this is the case with many of you, as obesity tends to begin in childhood for a lot of people. All the way through high school, I didn’t really fit in. I would say that in my senior year, I began to realize who I was, to be comfortable enough to be myself with others. I met some wonderful friends who did a lot in the way of good for my self esteem. I was probably a size 18/20 at this time. I know that I was still able to wear a lot of things from the Gap, mostly just tops though. I was able to (barely) fit on my favorite rides. Of course, I wanted to lose weight, and I was aware of my size, but I wasn’t really unhappy. I was cute and young, and people liked me. I could wear tank tops and not feel TOO self-conscious, for it seemed my self-esteem was at a high.

I didn’t gain too much weight. At the age of 21, I was working at a grocery store, had a very active social life, and I was beginning to go to the gym. I felt great and I still had quite a bit of self esteem. Then I made a huge mistake. I met a man, and I became pregnant.

Ultimately, I was miserable. He was a very unavailable person, and we were living with his mother. I was really excited about the baby, but his family was really wearing me down, and so was he. Throughout my pregnancy, I gained about 33 pounds. When I had the baby, I pretty much instantly lost it all, aside from about 7 stubborn pounds. About a month after I had the baby, I still couldn’t fit into my pre-pregnancy pants. It was the beginning of the end.

I stayed at home with the baby for a few years while he “worked.” Ultimately, our marriage ended. I was deeply depressed and had to endure a lot of things at the hands of many people. My self esteem was at an all-time low. I never received compliments from my husband, he never once told me I looked nice or that I was beautiful/pretty, nothing. He never talked to me at all, in fact. He was a man full to the brim with secrets and lies. I realized my mistake, but I still suffered. I had gained 70 pounds at one point, putting me at the highest weight I had ever been, 371. I was so sad.

I moved on, and I have met the most wonderful man on the planet who thinks I am amazing and beautiful and sexy, but at age 28, I feel ugly and fat. I AM ugly and fat. I look in the mirror and I hate what I see. There is no such thing as a good picture of me any more. I am utterly disgusted with myself. I cry a lot. I dream of losing weight, it’s all I think about. I have to do something about this. We recently went on a cruise, and I could hardly even enjoy myself. I am always tired. My job sucks the life out of me. I have no energy. I cannot walk very far at all without growing fatigued and listless. I eat and I cry, and I repeat the process. Food seems to be everything for me. I want to make it less important, I want to feel good. I want to be able to squeeze my ass into a roller coaster again, I love them. I want to be able to hike through the mayan ruins with my boyfriend, and enjoy the scenery without worrying about how hot I am or that my feet hurt. I want to be able to work for an hour without sweating profusely. I want to look good in pictures. I want to be complimented. I want this huge belly GONE. I want to be able to sit in a folding chair without having to worry about whether or not it is going to break. I want to be able to comfortably wear dress shoes, or a DRESS for that matter. I want to be able to have more children, to enjoy them, to play with them. I want a long, full life with my new man.

I know that I can do this. I know that I am going to try my very hardest.  I pledge to myself to persist, if I fall off the horse I will just get right back on. I have to do this for myself. I have to.