BEING FAT SUCKS

Yep, I said it.

Being fat sucks.  It sucks large fat donkey balls.  It sucks even more than that.

Today I had emotional fat meltdown.  I had the "I hate my fat clothes, fat calf boots and I hate fat me" day.  To be honest, this is a first.  I've had moments and weeks where I was all about losing weight, kicking ass on the diet du jour, exercising all those fat cells till they wanted to run far, far away from me.  And then I'd go back to nothing.  Just let the fat cells join back up, climb on and hang on tight.

It was a sad day, a humiliating day, an embarrassing day that turned into a pretty good damn day.

Only because of my husband.  See, I have been feeling this deep down, bubbling lava of hate for a while now.  But it's amazing!!! I can squelch it with Hershey's kisses and lasagna and chocolate bars and, well, you get the drift.  Like a drug, food lights my high for a short time, savoring the flavor, the texture, the absolute rebellious feeling of eating what I shouldn't.  But then I crash.  I hit that "I hate myself" phase, feel like a complete moron for giving in and make myself emotionally ill with the realization that I'm still fat, and just fed those monster fat cells more ammunition.  Fuck!!!  But wait!!! I know how to feel better!!!!!  Hershey Kisses!!! Lasagna!!!! Chocolate bars!!!!!  Chips!!!! And you can see where this goes.  Plus, on bad days (and I've had my share), food ALWAYS loves me, it's always happy to see me and it's ready to be my buddy.

Today I realized (sadly and emotionally), after my 2nd breakfast, that I had had a second breakfast.  That I have a lot of seconds and thirds and my thighs and ass show it.  A lot.  As in my fat girl jeans are starting to cry when they see me coming.  That's fat.  The worst part, I literally hit the bottom of my fat sadness today.  And I emailed my husband with the horrible, embarrassing, humiliating truth.

I mean, he knows I'm fat, the guy sleeps in the same bed as me.  But I had to admit that it's not "just hormones".  It's the fact that I eat a lot of crap.  A lot of chocolate, and chips and chocolate and fast food and chocolate....you know what I'm saying.  But here's the worst part:  I hide it.  I eat all that stuff when no one is looking.  I stash chocolate, I sneak food, I "revenge" eat, even though the only person suffering is me.  This has to stop.  Because seriously, I hate myself like this right now and I don't want to be the "big girl" everywhere I go.

And my husband, well, he's the best.  He is supportive of what it's going to take for me to accomplish what I need to, he's willing to help even more than he already does with the kids so I can get to the gym, and to get to some meetings that I really need to go to.  I need to get in my head and he's my number one cheerleader in doing this.  And he made sure that I knew how much he loves me.  He's a great man.  I want to be a great woman, a healthy woman.....and definitely, a sexy woman for him.

So, part of my "recovery" is to keep up with this blog, to be real about where I'm starting (not actual pounds, I'm not THAT masochistic), my successes and my failures.  I am going to outline my goals, my dreams, my setbacks and my progress.  Because really, being fat sucks....even my fat clothes agree.