So Tired

Screw this shit. I'm tired of being fat and feeling like I can't be the fun-loving, crazy chick that I am. I hate not wanting to draw attention to myself because I'm so big. I hate feeling foreign in my skin. I hate that most of my clothes don't fit, and that even the ones that DO fit don't really, they're too tight and I'm uncomfortable in them. I hate going shopping because I can never find anything that fits. Even shoes are too tight. I hate seeing an absolutely adorable shirt that I wish I could wear, but knowing that there's no way it will ever fit. I hate that my feet hurt all the time due to my plantar fasciitis, which, while it can't be entirely prevented by losing weight, can certainly be much better managed. I hate having chest pains (that I've had checked by a doctor, don't worry) and being scared that I'm having a heart attack. I'm 32 years old. Fear of a heart attack shouldn't even enter into the equation. I hate that I now weigh more than my previous "highest weight," which I swore would never happen. I hate that I'm a cliche, someone who lost weight and proceeded to gain it all back, plus 20 extra pounds. I hate that I'm afraid to go to amusement parks, because I won't fit into half of the rides. I hate that flying is uncomfortable, and that I try to fold into myself once I'm in the seat because I don't want to inconvenience the people next to me by having my body spill over into their space. I hate the way I keep wearing the same suits over and over again, not wanting to buy new suits until I "lose the weight," and that I look dowdy and frumpy even though I should look hot and powerful. I hate how I have all kinds of baseball caps because they fit who I am, the fun, sporty, athletic girl (who is also girly and cute and likes pink and make-up), yet I hardly ever wear them because they don't fit the way I look, which is most definitely not sporty and athletic. I hate that my belly sticks out like I'm pregnant. I hate that I can lean back in my chair and rest my hands on my belly, like I'm some sort of female Santa Claus. I hate that I now have a double chin, even though it's small...any double chin is horrible and I remember being a teenager and running my finger from my chin to my neck to make sure that no double chin was starting. I hate that, when I look at myself in pictures, my pretty features appear to be lost in fat. I hate that pictures do not present the picture of myself that I see in my head, which is a pretty, curvy woman. I hate feeling as though everybody looks at me and sees the weight I've gained, but of course nobody mentions the giant white elephant in the room. I hate the cellulite on my legs, and while I'm okay with some cellulite, I am in no way okay with what is there now. I hate that my doctor patiently tells me every time I visit that I should lose weight, even just 50 pounds (which sounds like a lot, but since I have 120 or so to go, really it's not even half). I hate feeling sorry for myself because I'm fat, and having a "woe is me" attitude about something that is absolutely within my power to change. I hate feeling inferior next to thin girls, simply due to the fact that I am overweight, even though I'm sure I have as much to offer as most of them do. I hate how people seem to overlook me as the fat girl in the room, or look at me as "so-and-so's girlfriend," or "so-and-so's cousin" or "so-and-so's friend," without seeing ME as my own person, for who I am. I hate having my clothes cut into me. I hate fearing getting pregnant, because I can hardly add any more weight onto my already overworked body. I hate this, and I'm so fucking tired of it, and I'm not doing this anymore. Fuck this. I want to be thin, or at least, healthy. I want to be able to run races for the hell of it. Not to win, just because it makes me feel good. I don't want to be the fat girl. I don't want to make fat jokes at my own expense. I want to be able to wear the clothes that are in my closet, and to go out shopping for new ones. I want to be able to wear cute shoes. I want to walk around and not have my feet ache. I want to be happy with my weight and feel comfortable in my skin. I want to get some of my self-confidence back.

So what am I going to do about it? I'm going to stop fucking around. I've allowed myself every excuse in the book for why I'm overweight, and why I deserve this, or why I deserve that, and I'm taking them all back and throwing them out the fucking window. I'm not going to let myself eat like a pig, simply because we're out to eat and it's a special occasion. So what if it's a special occasion? I can still make good choices and feel good about myself during and afterwards. That's not to say I won't work treats into my lifestyle, because sometimes life just calls for a well-planned piece of dark chocolate. I need to start cutting down on the amount of processed, chemical crap that goes into my body. I have to start eating healthier, more wholesome foods. I need to take care of myself, this poor body that I've abused for more than 31 years. I'm going to use my gym membership and workout videos and DVDs and exercise 5 to 6 days a week, no excuses. That's what works for me, and I know this. I cannot make excuses for why I can't go. I simply have to make the time. I am going to walk my dog every day. He loves going for walks, and I never take him because I'm lazy. That's crap. We both need the exercise, and it's not fair for me to deprive him of the walks he loves so much simply because I don't feel like it. Too-oo-ooh bad for me. So that's that. No big plan, just steps to a better, cleaner, healthier living. This long hedonistic period of overindulgence and crap living is so fucking over.