100 Reasons I'm Fat
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Reason Number 93
The problem is that I don't really feel that fat. I mean, I am aware of my clothing size and on the rare occasion I see myself naked in a full-length mirror, I am horrified, but in my normal every day life, I feel pretty much the same as I always did, just as I feel twenty-two years old inside my head when my body is actually forty years old.
So being fat doesn't bother me.
Until it's time to put on a swimsuit and swim. Or wear shorts and walk around in public. Or meet with a friend who hasn't seen me in a long time. Or have my picture taken. And all that is about what people see and how they perceive me and what they will think.
I care about all that, but I don't care enough, apparently. I'm introverted by nature, so it's easy enough to just hole up here at home and not look at myself and not think about how I look to others.
But sometimes, I notice that my stomach is in the way. Getting up from a chair takes a little effort. I'm not as limber as I used to be. I'm sometimes winded when I walk up the stairs quickly.
On an entirely different plane, I long to be thin. I dream of having a flat stomach and clothes that actually flatter, instead of just disguise. I'd like to run around--literally RUN around--with my children.
But my days are long stretches of boredom and responsibility and stress. The weight loss experts are always offering unhelpful advice. If you are stressed or lonely, take a bath. Take a walk, read a book, light a candle, do a project, call a friend, exercise . . . and none of these things will work for me when I'm SICK TO DEATH of kids and feeling desperate.
So I eat. I pop something or another in my mouth and it's a little mini-party, a distraction from whatever's driving me crazy. Sure, I'd much rather go for a long meandering walk through the woods or take a steamy bath, but let's be realistic. My means of coping are severely limited by my current life.
All of this sounds like an excuse, even to me. Some days, I tell myself, starting tomorrow I will exercise every day! I will eat vegetables and not cookies. I will talk a long walk when the kids are sleeping. But I don't. I am fighting inertia, laziness and circumstances.
The other stupid thing I do is this. When I am eating two cookies and reading . . . if I'm interrupted, I will get two more cookies are start again. It's ridiculous, but I do it all the time. I eat for entertainment and when I'm interrupted, I start over.
It's no wonder I'm fat. For really, the reason, the Main Reason is that I eat when I'm not hungry. And I eat horrible stuff when I'm not hungry--cookies, chocolate, crackers. If someone else were doing this, I would judge them harshly.
I do it and I can't seem to stop.
But this I know. I will. I will do it because I know I can. I will keep trying until I manage to succeed, she says with a tummy full of chocolate chip cookies. ¶ 2:39 PM 0 comments
So being fat doesn't bother me.
Until it's time to put on a swimsuit and swim. Or wear shorts and walk around in public. Or meet with a friend who hasn't seen me in a long time. Or have my picture taken. And all that is about what people see and how they perceive me and what they will think.
I care about all that, but I don't care enough, apparently. I'm introverted by nature, so it's easy enough to just hole up here at home and not look at myself and not think about how I look to others.
But sometimes, I notice that my stomach is in the way. Getting up from a chair takes a little effort. I'm not as limber as I used to be. I'm sometimes winded when I walk up the stairs quickly.
On an entirely different plane, I long to be thin. I dream of having a flat stomach and clothes that actually flatter, instead of just disguise. I'd like to run around--literally RUN around--with my children.
But my days are long stretches of boredom and responsibility and stress. The weight loss experts are always offering unhelpful advice. If you are stressed or lonely, take a bath. Take a walk, read a book, light a candle, do a project, call a friend, exercise . . . and none of these things will work for me when I'm SICK TO DEATH of kids and feeling desperate.
So I eat. I pop something or another in my mouth and it's a little mini-party, a distraction from whatever's driving me crazy. Sure, I'd much rather go for a long meandering walk through the woods or take a steamy bath, but let's be realistic. My means of coping are severely limited by my current life.
All of this sounds like an excuse, even to me. Some days, I tell myself, starting tomorrow I will exercise every day! I will eat vegetables and not cookies. I will talk a long walk when the kids are sleeping. But I don't. I am fighting inertia, laziness and circumstances.
The other stupid thing I do is this. When I am eating two cookies and reading . . . if I'm interrupted, I will get two more cookies are start again. It's ridiculous, but I do it all the time. I eat for entertainment and when I'm interrupted, I start over.
It's no wonder I'm fat. For really, the reason, the Main Reason is that I eat when I'm not hungry. And I eat horrible stuff when I'm not hungry--cookies, chocolate, crackers. If someone else were doing this, I would judge them harshly.
I do it and I can't seem to stop.
But this I know. I will. I will do it because I know I can. I will keep trying until I manage to succeed, she says with a tummy full of chocolate chip cookies. ¶ 2:39 PM 0 comments
