CWA #1

Awhile ago, I announced that my mom had given me a book called “642 Things To Write About.” I had intended to start this earlier but nows a better time than never right? As mentioned in that post, you’ll know it’s a creative writing peace based on the title. I plan on just opening up the book and choosing the first topic I see. Some will be fiction some will be non, depending on the topic I suppose. Here we go…

Who people think you are, compared to who you know you are.

Wow. Jumping right in I guess. This is awfully tricky because it really depends on who the person in question is. People judge a book by its cover in all different forms. I could look at the cover of “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” and think it’s going to be a phenomenal book while my 70-something year old grandma could look at it and see a bad illustration of the greatest book series of her granddaughters generation.

A judgement that has stuck with me for a very long time is something my 10th grade best friend said to me. I enrolled in the Newfolden school district mid-9th grade year. I was quiet. I always am when I’m somewhere new, I know that for sure. It took me some time to warm up to the 25 or so people in my grade. Fast forward a good year or so, I became really close with a group in my class. Well, as close as you can be. See, being the new kid gives you some kind of exotic sense of “who is she?” But your face doesn’t pop up when childhood memories are reminisced or last years festivities discussed. They don’t know your deepest darkest secrets or who your first kiss was. They don’t always include you and when it comes down to basic instincts, they never fully trust you.

Regardless of all this, looking back they were some of the best people I had ever known. After a year or so of becoming friends and comfortable sharing my boring 16-year-old life with, my bestest friend at the time told me something I’ll never forget: “When you first came to this school, I thought you were a bitch.”

Nice, huh?

We went on to discuss her statement. It was nothing I said or did. I just looked like I’d probably be a bitch. It wasn’t a look I gave her (not knowing her) or the people I talked to the first day. It was just a “feeling” she had. I’ve always wondered what people thought about me, I think everyone does. But since that moment, I really think that I became more aware of that nagging wonder.

I’ve had about four best friends in my life. In chronological order: Kristi, Sam, Adam, and Chris. Kristi popped back in when we were in college. I moved from Roseau so we were disconnected and now, we’re disconnected because of well…life. But I still consider her one of my dearest friends. Even with our lives so different and going years without talking.

The other three still hold a huge piece of my heart too. Sam was my first and longest friend when I moved. We shared some of the literal best times of my life together. Nothing and no one could ever replace a friendship like we had. It was hard to “stay friends” when she left junior year and I decided to pursue college.

Then there was Adam. Adam pulled me out of my shell. He was wild and open. He would sing like no one was watching and not try to clean up because someone was coming over. He was confident and my confidant. We did everything together.

And same goes for Chris. Chris, my brother, and I were connected at the hip for some time but like every friendship, things change.

I wish I could have been one of those people who have had a best friend since kindergarten. Even as adults, be close. Meet up, go to each others bachelorette parties, travel together. All that jazz. But you know what? If that were the case, I might not have met the four that I did have.

Clearly, I’ve gotten off topic here. What I guess I’m trying to say is I have no idea who people think I am. And I have no idea how people decided they wanted to be my friends along the way. The only insight I’ve ever gotten was that I’m probably a bitch even though I don’t think I am.

I think that people think I’m reserved. That I’m quiet. I think that people think I’m a know it all or stuck up. I think people think that I think I’m better than them. I think people think I’m a fat slob. I think people don’t trust me or feel uneasy around me. I think people think I’m stupid for staying with Channing when I should have left.

I don’t think that anyone envy’s my life as I do theirs.

Who am I really? At 25 years old, I should know who I am, shouldn’t I? I should have lived and made more mistakes than I have. I should have traveled and gotten my bachelors and volunteered at a soup kitchen and partied harder and loved deeper. I should have experimented and dated more guys. I’m sure that’s what the “wondering me” would say. But it’s not about her. It’s about the “actual” me.

Who am I really? I’m a 25-year-old woman trying to figure my life out. I’m a bitch but I’m only a bitch to people who actually deserve bitchiness. I love hard and fall even harder. I’m a thinker. I’m an observer. I stumble over my words because I don’t know what I want to say but I know how to write it. If you mean the world to me, I’ll put your needs ahead of mine. Always. I’m a bad tipper because I expect excellent service. I lack empathy. I wish I had access to that deep socket in my brain to empathize with homeless people or women who regret last nights hook-ups but I don’t. I love children and want to be a mother. I love to write but feel that it’ll never get me anywhere. I’m quiet in settings I’m not comfortable in. I don’t trust very many people but I expect people to trust me. I strive to be someone who my brothers look up to but I don’t think I’ve done a very good job of that. I know I’m a good person and that I care too much. I know that I am smart but I know I’m not the smartest. I believe in third, fourth, and fifth chances. I know that my family and boyfriend are the most important things in my life. I know that I focus to much on wishing my life had been different instead of appreciating the life I have. I know I’m fat and it makes me hate myself. Like really, really hate myself. I know that my size and the way I look deter me from being the person I am inside. It prevents me from being the outgoing girl I once was. It puts a road block directly in front of me. I don’t go out and meet people because I’m bigger than a mini-cooper.

I know a lot about myself but I don’t always know who I am. I’m not who I think I am because of what I am. I don’t know if I’ll ever really know who I am. Who are you?

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Time To Go Shopping.

2cd60d089427d0f7085613ac9aafc400I’m not as girly as I wish I were. I love fashion and internally am a fashionista. I know what’s in style and I love it. Layers, boots, leggings, infinity scarves, the list goes on. I like painted nails and getting pedicures. I could look on Pinterest all day long at long wavy hairstyles.

BUT nothing ever looks as good as it should when I try it. My nails chip as soon as I paint them. Curls fall flat no matter how many tutorials I watch and how much product I use. Being a fatty mcfatpants doesn’t help much either because the plus size world of fashion shouldn’t really be classified as fashion to begin with. Everything that I find either has thunder thighs or inseams too short. Shirts that don’t cover my butt or are made out of skin tight fabric. Whoever designs the majority of plus size clothing CLEARLY has no idea what it’s like.

e0dbca629f94c51c1c11c35b64209facAnd then you have the classic go to like Lane Bryant who I guess is fine but their clothes are really only built for one type of plus-size woman. They only look “okay” on a size 16. Anything else? Forget it.

I’m trying my best to turn around my shaded view around though. Because honestly, I haven’t really “tried” to find things that work for me for a couple years. I’ve recently been looking online and looking in the plus-size section of more stores to find something that will fit into today’s fashion (which I love) and can make me look as good as I can in my head.

If I’m being realistic though, I really haven’t put much effort into my outward appearance for a couple of years. Gaining weight really kills self-confidence when you didn’t have any to begin with. I don’t know if I’ll ever find the SC that I should have “discovered” years ago but it’s worth a try right?

1cd44a3df300dacfe774e08a7b7cade9Proofreading this, what I’m trying to say really isn’t coming out quite right. I really wish I could pull of the vintage-y, long sweaters, girly dresses, patterned leggings, biker boots, beach waves, size zero gauges look. Know what I mean? I could though, you know. I could try it and just not give a shit about what people will say and the looks I’ll get. Think to myself “screw ’em” when their eyes are screaming “she shouldn’t be wearing that, doesn’t she know she’s a big girl?”

Fuck, don’t even get me started on the term “big girl.” I’d rather someone tell me to my face how fat I am and that it grosses them out than have someone refer to me as a “big girl.”

Mreh.

Mental Progress.

The old me would have binge ate all day today. But the new me has easily stuck to the healthy food that I purposely brought to work to eat. I won’t go into any kind of detail about why but today was a very eventful and stressful day.

As you may or may not know, I made a very serious choice on June 7th and that choice was to get healthy or to die. I’ve been doing very well since then. A couple of bumps like with any choice to get healthy but I’m officially down 22.6 pounds and counting. I hope to hit 25 by my next weigh in.

Before choosing to fight my obesity, I’d eat. I’d eat when I was bored, I’d eat when I was watching TV and I’d eat when I was stressed from a busy day at work or a fight with my boyfriend. I’d eat because Taco Johns was on the way to the grocery store and I’d eat because someone brought food today at the office. My religion was food above all. Above everything.

And really, it still is. The only difference between then and now is that I can control it. When I’m stressed or bored or angry or nothing…I don’t think about eating. Don’t get me wrong, it still happens sometimes. Weekends are the toughest. But I’ve gained some self-control.

3 months ago if I had a morning like today, I would have went to Hardees for lunch and then stopped at Holiday before my break was over to get a pop and a candy bar. After the afternoon I’ve had, I would have hit up McDonald’s on the way home and stuff my face before getting out of the parking to have supper with my boyfriend an hour later. Which also involved eating out about 75% of the time.

So what am I going to do to deal with today’s stress levels? I’m going to go for a long walk tonight. I wish I could go now actually. My energy is pumping and I want to be moving. I want to sweat out the annoyances and responsibilities of the day rather than hold them in by giving my heart a reason to clock out once it hits a pool of grease.

I’m no where near perfect in my choices or my physique. Imagining my goal is too hard to do at this point because it’s so far away but after a day like today, I’ve really been able to see just how far I really have come. I don’t always see progress in the mirror or even on the scale but noticing progress of the mind is one of the best signs of a positive journey that I’ve gotten to experience this far.

I know you hear this all the time by anyone that’s ever lost weight in the history of fat people but seriously, if I can make serious progress..so can you. You’re worth it.

Willpower.

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I’ve recently tapped into my willpower energy and let me tell you; it’s damn difficult. Up until I became serious about losing the weight that I’ve accumulated over the last 24 or so years – I didn’t really view willpower as something that anyone could actually obtain. It’s not easy, that’s for sure..but it’s possible.

I’m still learning and I’m only in the beginning stages of making progress on my weight-loss journey but I wanted to summarize a conversation I had today about deprivation. Anyone will tell you not to deprive yourself and you shouldn’t I guess. But in my case, it almost feels like I need to in order to make real progress. So in reply to a gal noting that I should have a piece of cake that she made for a potluck today I said:

“I didn’t deprive myself for the last 24 years. I ate whatever, whenever I wanted. So I think it’s okay to deprive myself for one day with potluck food…”

And it’s true. This weight-loss journey that I’m trying to accomplish isn’t an easy feat and it shouldn’t be treated with food rewards. You wouldn’t tell an alcoholic in the process of sobriety to have “just one drink, it won’t hurt” would you?

That’s another thing I’ve recently accepted. Addiction. Even though I’ve heard it my entire life, I never really associated eating with addiction. And it’s one of the worst kinds too. You have to eat in order to survive. It’s everywhere.

There is no comparison but for a simple example…you can quit smoking. Get a prescription, use the patch, nicotine gum, ect. You don’t need it to survive. It seems much more practical to kick just about any addiction other than food. But maybe I’m just being biased because I’m dealing with my own addiction.

I’ll forever be addicted to food no matter what I’ll do. I know for a fact, that I’ll indulge at times. Hopefully it won’t be as often as my current once a week motto or in other words “free day.” I’m not quite to that step of willpower yet.

I don’t want to sound like a hypocrite but I hope to have a little control over my future children’s lives as far as health goes. Due to my weight I’ve limited myself more and more in so many things that I’d love to do out of fear of embarrassment and I don’t want anyone to have to go through that. I’m not going to deprive them of food but I pray that I can teach them healthy eating habits early on and not expose them to fast food for as long as motherly possible.

If I overcome this lifelong journey, I want to spread awareness. I used to think it was stupid – seeing obesity commercials on TV, the radio, in newspaper ads, but it’s not. I hope I have enough willpower to become a survivor.

The Truth Comes Out.

Obviously not every, but most of the photos in this blog are ones that I’ve taken. However, most of them haven’t yet been edited as I have postponed doing so for years. When choosing pictures to attach in each post; I quickly realized that I haven’t taken many pictures over the last 18 or so months. I think it’s a mix between being down right lazy and having no confidence to be a motivated person.

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I know what you’re thinking..what does motivation and taking a couple of pictures have to do with anything? I could go in circles about this for days but the gist of it is as follows: I’ve always been out of control when it comes to my physical appearance. I take that back; I’ve always cared about what I look like and have tried my best to look my best when going out but to be quite honest, over the last..two years probably; I haven’t put much work into myself and that is so far from wrong it’s ridiculous.

I don’t love myself. I’ve lost all self respect for myself. I don’t “dress up” anymore and when I do, I know that I don’t do it to the standard that I have set myself to in the past. I’ve never been high maintenance or gone to extremes when it comes to my appearance but I did used to give a shit. I used to get dolled up whenever I saw Channing and even before him; I’d always look my best. I’d buy myself new clothes almost every paycheck. I’d splurge on a pair of new shoes or buy gobs of lotion at Bath and Body. But I don’t do stuff like that anymore. I don’t straighten my hair, I never put eye makeup on anymore. I don’t even remember the last time that I actually went shopping for new clothes or shoes or hair products other than when I absolutely had to. It’s because I’ve “let myself go.” It almost makes me cringe to have to admit that at age 24 but it probably needed to be said. I’m not intentionally avoiding the obvious but if you have seen me recently you can see that I’ve gained a substantial amount of weight in a short time. I’m sure it has to do with the stress that I’ve put myself in front of over the last few years and becoming comfortable in my relationship but regardless it is irresponsible and definitely ludicrous.

I’ve always been overweight it’s not something new. Everyone that has eyes can see it. But where I am now is absolutely absurd and I take full blame for it. When I was younger; I’d be able to at least maintain where I was at for long periods of time. I was the same pants size in high school from 10th grade through college but after that it was just a downward (slow) spiral. However, since mid-2012 it’s gotten out of control and quite frankly, I need help.

This has clearly veered off of the subject that I started with but in short my weight and the stress that initiated the gain is why I have sheltered myself. I have ditched my brother in going to concerts because I didn’t want to be that fat sweaty freak in the mosh pit. I’ve bailed on catching up with old friends because I’m not only embarrassed of myself but I’m embarrassed for them to have to be seen in public with me. I don’t go to certain restaurants because they only have booths. I’ve skipped family reunions and weddings because I didn’t want to be the hippopotamus cousin. I even stay quiet and don’t interact with my boyfriends family, niece, and nephew as much as I’d like to because I’m afraid that I’ll look like a fool or get hot and sweaty in front of them.

I don’t go swimming. I don’t go to amusement parks. I don’t hang out with friends. I don’t make new friends. I don’t go on adventures or to concerts. I don’t do spur of the moment. I don’t dance like no one is watching. I don’t do anything and it’s not because I don’t want to; it’s because I’m afraid of what people will think which really is a bunch of bullshit. It shouldn’t matter what people think but it does.

I’ve limited the enjoyment in my life because I’m addicted to food and can’t hold a spirt of motivation or determination for more than 7 minutes. I’ve never actually admitted this to anyone in anyway except to my mom because sadly, we share the same issue. I’m hoping that in being honest with myself and to the public that this will help me to overcome hurdles that I practically refuse to jump over. One day I’ll get the balls to post a before picture, but today is not the day.

I have every tool that I need to become a happy and healthy individual but all I need is a push, a real get the fuck going push. Will you push me?