After a week of slacking, and binging and feeling sorry for myself and emotional upheaval, today, Monday the 21st, I'm going to hop back up on the fitness bandwagon.
Dread dread dread.
It's almost harder to do this than it was to start from scratch. Now I have expectations of my fitness level (weak) and I KNOW I should avoid the easter candy aisle.
(*Side note: Easter has THE BEST candy of any holiday.)
My little sis just asked what I want to do for my birthday, and I honestly have no idea. Normally, we'd be planning a fabulous dinner out with lots of carb loading, fat, sugar, butter, and deliciousness. Now... I'm just thinking I hope I can lose 10 more pounds by then. And then my inner fat girl ridicules my inner thin girl for conforming to the man. Oh yeah. Not eating has made the voices in my head very distracting. Dieting LITERALLY is making me crazy.
So I will go to the gym tonight after class and force myself to sweat for at least half an hour. Okay, 45 minutes. Let's get this wagon moving.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
A New Perspective (and it sucks)
I have always prided myself on being a happy fat girl. I am content with myself, I like myself, I had no complaints. That is, until I decided to lose weight for health reasons. It seems that in order to be motivated to lose weight, I had to change my perspective. Now I am miserable. I have finally discovered self hate.
Allow me to explain.
Last Thursday, I flew to San Diego from Boise for a family funeral. On the first plane from Boise to Salt Lake, I sat next to a very large man. Now, I am a big girl, so I have always had sympathy and compassion for the large people. But not this time. This time, I was a judger. I was grumpy that his big fat arms were poking me, that I was practically in the aisle to accommodate his overflow into my seat. I was disgusted by the alcohol fumes sweating off his body. I was judging. Then, on one of the 3 flights left to my really not fun weekend, I had an experience where I was the fat one that people dread sitting next to. I could see it on their face as I approached the only seat left on the plane. I was sweaty from having had to RUN THROUGH THE AIRPORT to make my connection. I was breathing heavy. I could see it on their faces, the 'oh no' as they exited to give me my window seat. I tried to squeeze myself smaller, so that I wasn't spilling over into the middle seat (also known as 'fat person plane ediquite'). I know I was successful, but I was unhappy and uncomfortable and self conscious the whole time.
Then, last night on St. Patricks Day. My sister and I and a friend had gone out to a Very crowded bar. Perhaps the man didn't think I could hear him from one foot away, but he was making a point to his crowd of friends that fat ugly girls shouldn't wear 'Kiss Me I'm Irish' because it's not like anyone wants to. Then, all 4 of them looked at me and laughed. To make it worse, both of the women were these tall, reedy amazon blonds with perfect skin and hair. I felt something then that I have never before felt about myself. Shame.
If that had happened to me last St. Pats, or even last New Years, I would have said something flippant, rude, (equally rude) or punched the guy in the nuts. But last night, I walked away, feeling that he must have a point. Of course, my fierce little sister was all for the punching in the nuts idea when I told her what happened, and although I was ready to go home, she dragged me to another bar and proceeded to feed me purple vikings until I was having a good time again, but when I woke up this morning, the Shame... it was still there.
I don't like this world, where fitting in means judging yourself by other people's standards. I don't like that people feel comfortable mocking others based on their looks (no matter what they may be). And I really, really don't like feeling like I am ugly when before this stupid weight loss issue, I truly felt myself to be a goddess.
Mean people suck.
Allow me to explain.
Last Thursday, I flew to San Diego from Boise for a family funeral. On the first plane from Boise to Salt Lake, I sat next to a very large man. Now, I am a big girl, so I have always had sympathy and compassion for the large people. But not this time. This time, I was a judger. I was grumpy that his big fat arms were poking me, that I was practically in the aisle to accommodate his overflow into my seat. I was disgusted by the alcohol fumes sweating off his body. I was judging. Then, on one of the 3 flights left to my really not fun weekend, I had an experience where I was the fat one that people dread sitting next to. I could see it on their face as I approached the only seat left on the plane. I was sweaty from having had to RUN THROUGH THE AIRPORT to make my connection. I was breathing heavy. I could see it on their faces, the 'oh no' as they exited to give me my window seat. I tried to squeeze myself smaller, so that I wasn't spilling over into the middle seat (also known as 'fat person plane ediquite'). I know I was successful, but I was unhappy and uncomfortable and self conscious the whole time.
Then, last night on St. Patricks Day. My sister and I and a friend had gone out to a Very crowded bar. Perhaps the man didn't think I could hear him from one foot away, but he was making a point to his crowd of friends that fat ugly girls shouldn't wear 'Kiss Me I'm Irish' because it's not like anyone wants to. Then, all 4 of them looked at me and laughed. To make it worse, both of the women were these tall, reedy amazon blonds with perfect skin and hair. I felt something then that I have never before felt about myself. Shame.
If that had happened to me last St. Pats, or even last New Years, I would have said something flippant, rude, (equally rude) or punched the guy in the nuts. But last night, I walked away, feeling that he must have a point. Of course, my fierce little sister was all for the punching in the nuts idea when I told her what happened, and although I was ready to go home, she dragged me to another bar and proceeded to feed me purple vikings until I was having a good time again, but when I woke up this morning, the Shame... it was still there.
I don't like this world, where fitting in means judging yourself by other people's standards. I don't like that people feel comfortable mocking others based on their looks (no matter what they may be). And I really, really don't like feeling like I am ugly when before this stupid weight loss issue, I truly felt myself to be a goddess.
Mean people suck.
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