Who moved my soap?

See that there? That's soap. Very expensive nano-silver soap. What the hell is soap doing on a dieting blog?

I'LL TELL YOU.

My slobby brother is spending some time here. He knew full well that I spent $15 on a soap because it helps with breaks-outs I have. (Did I tell you it is the size of your average half-dollar? Yeah.) He was been warned under the penalty of death, destruction and mayhem not to use this soap of soaps. In other words if I find out that the soap was used I would rip his face off and then feed it to the cats.

 So today after receiving this soap a few days ago I went to go wash my face and found the soap...gone. Disappeared. Kaput. I know the cats haven't acquired the taste of soap yet. (Just bacon, cheese, cat litter, black socks, cardboard and cold tea so far. I haven't tested human flesh yet.) I do know he has just taken a shower. Lucky for him he is out and unlucky for me I am seething with rage.

Seething. Angry because he pulls this shit all the time. I know it's just soap but it was really expensive soap. My whole life I've had issues with him and this was the last straw. So, I'm mad and I found my self trolling the kitchen and I caught myself. I was mad at my brother but I wanted to shove food in my mouth. He wasn't there to yell at so I was prepared to take it out on myself.

It was like I was on autopilot. I was feeling intense emotions and like a robot I went to the fridge. I had the fridge open and I was rifling before I realized what I was doing. I can tell you for a fact if I had any of the crap I used to keep around it would have been in my face faster than you can say "She spent what on soap?".

I think everyone comforts themselves with food at some points in their lives. I mean there wouldn't be "comfort food" if we didn't but I took it to the extremes. In high school I had ordered candy from one of those fundraisers and I remember watching 90210 while eating the whole box and then a whole bag of Doritos. It wasn't a treat or something yummy...it was medicine. Medicine for a sad girl who got pepper sprayed that day for simply being fat. (I think the guy who did it is now a cop. Regardless, I don't think I have a problem throwing Sriracha in his eyes. I can't wait for the reunion!)

Well food isn't medicine. Thinking about it now I would have killed for an ice cream cone or four when I was angry but I thought it would make me feel worse in the end because I have worked really hard so I grabbed the closest dog and went running. Angry running is a whole different thing and I enjoyed it.

Turns out he thought it was hotel soap and he used the whole bar...on his feet. (You know no court in the US would fault me for maiming the boy.) He bought me a new bar but I think this whole situation taught me I am allowed to be angry and I don't need food to make me feel better.

(I'm still mad and now have decided to keep some Sriracha Rooster Sauce on hand for such occasions.)

(Photo Credit - Dermstore.com)

I Hate Facebook

I'm anti-social by nature. Almost to the point where one of my dreams is to live in the mountains of Alaska, collect cats and only come to town for toilet paper and Wild Turkey. I figure I'm conditioned for this. When I was a kid I wasn't fat. I was just big, never petite and taller than the kids my age. Children being the evil little beasts they are, focused on this and I was labeled the “Fat Girl” at the tender age of 4.

I never had a chance.

I was teased with mercilessly all through school. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I was tortured. I got it from all sides. Mom wasn’t happy that I was bigger and kids thought being fat was akin to kicking puppies and skinning hamsters. It was hell. I got through it though but there are definite lingering effects. I tend to be a people pleaser (Except when I’m driving.) and I always think people are looking at me or talking about me, mostly because they did. Normally I would soothe myself with food. Lots of food. Now I don’t have that. I can’t turn to food anymore so I am stuck in a weird cycle of depression and overall distaste for humanity.

Things are bothering me more. It’s like that line of defense is gone. It's almost crushing. Like Facebook. To be honest it’s my own damn fault that I’m anti-social and when I see that someone went zip lining while on fire I am seething with jealousy. I don’t like change or a change in my routine because it’s safe to me. I’ve lost friends I love and haven’t done the things I love because I hate myself. It’s so easy to blame my mother and blame those bastards at school but it’s all me.

All still living with my Dad me. I suppose it breaks down to the fact that I am trying to lose what’s keeping me from the world and I’m still resisting going into the world. I want so much more from life but I can’t figure out how to get it.

More than you wanted to know about me and what I'm doing. - Part One - The Weight Issue

Hai thurr! That's me as of today. As you can see I'm all gut but I can't complain. I have a lot of fun in that body but I think I need to work on it so I can feel my very best (In other words tell the doctors to shove it.). So I suppose we need a baseline. 

I am..

- In my early thirties.
- I weight 252 pounds. My goal weight is 165...if I can get to 150 that's great but I am also very muscular so we'll see.
- I am 5'9, almost 5'10.
- I am extremely pale.
- My measurements are 53-52-38. (I swear...I have the weirdest body ever. It's actually genetic.)
- My cholesterol is 224 with my HDL at 38 and LDL at 125.
- My triglycerides are 305. (Shock, horror, dismay.)
- My blood pressure is stable, I've always been sort of low.
- My liver enzymes are raised and I have been diagnosed with non-alcoholic steatohepatitis or NASH. In other words, my liver is of the same texture and most likely tastes of your best foie gras.
- I have type 2 diabetes, well controlled most of the time. Except maybe when I quit smoking when I was freebasing Lifesavers Wint-O-Mints.
- It's February and I'm wearing flip flops.
- I have Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome.
- I'm asthmatic but greatly improved after quitting smoking. (I don't want to hear it, I lived it.)

Okay, so. There it is. Everything you wanted to know about my body but were afraid to ask. I just wanted to get a baseline to start from. I've been depressed since I took those photos. I don't know why because I'm not doing this to fit some draconian ideal, I'm doing this to feel better. I doing this so I don't have to count my pills like grandma every week but it still is scary putting yourself out there for the world to see when you spend so much time hiding. How great will it be to sit down without having to put a pillow in front?