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.

Being mauled by bears and other such nonsense....

I just realized it is Friday the 13th. Which explains today's events. It's 11pm so if I sit here and not move I hope that nothing else will happen.

*sits*

Well I don't think harm can come to me from typing other than a deadly finger cramp so I shall post and post I shall. I had a weird day. I tried to make a pair of pants and instead made a demented skirt. It was an abomination and needed to be put down. Then I made another and lo and behold they were 3 sizes too big. Sigh. Gave up on the pants and went for a gimp. While I was in the park stretching my leg I looked up and saw an honest to goodness brown bear. Merely 10 yards from my tender and tasty flesh.

I ran like no one has ever run. I ran like a woman being chased by a bear. Then again if my recollection is correct then the bear sort of looked at me like "Wha?". If it wanted to eat me, it would have eaten me but I still ran like my ass was on fire.

Best workout yet. The asthma attack was epic.

Lose ALL the weight!!

Patience is a virtue that I have never had the pleasure of making an acquittance of. When I was a wee slip of a girl, my parents had to go near Fort Knox security to keep me from my Christmas presents. I am the Veruca Salt type, I want it and I want it NOW.

...and I usually get it now. I'm good at getting what I want from life except this weight loss crap. I've been so good. Not eating sugar, eating vegetables ad nausuem, exercising until I am a gasping, bright red she beast and I'm still fat.

It bothers me that people can run for more than 5 minutes without gasping for air and begging for sweet, sweet death. I see them at the gym and I just can't understand how they can do that. I go out and run and go to the gym 5 days a week. Well what I do is sort of a run, walk fast, limp and wonder why the hell am I doing this sort of thing. It's still exercise. Yes, I can run farther than I did when I first started but it is so slow going.

Therein lies the rub. The crux of the biscuit if you will. All this stuff doesn't happen overnight even though I wish upon wish that it did. Probably why my previous paltry attempts in the past didn't work. I have moments where I think to myself that "Why am I doing this? It's not working.". Actually I have those thoughts all the time and they are so powerful. I don't think it's fair that some people are born thin and I certainly don't think it's fair that they don't have to wear suspenders when they run. So let me go eat a cheesecake.

Meh.

I went for my run/walk thing, let's just call it gimping, in public with, like, people around. This was scary. I mean there is nothing like a 5'10 inch 200 plus pound, tattooed woman running at you full speed but I digress. I felt embarrassed the whole time. I felt like people were looking at me and they probably were. I did it though all 3.2 miles of it. I gimped along and felt awesome after. So, all in all this might not be happening at the pace I would love to be but it's happening. Slowly but steadily. The more important thing is that I keep going, keep swimming if you will. I can't let these thoughts derail me because I know that this is my time to be the person I want.

Along with learning that eating a cookie isn't the end of the world, I have to learn to just be patient. Another thing is that I have to realize that people who talk shit about you or what you look like are small people that have their own issues...and you are the personification of it. If their lives are so small and insignificant to make fun of a person who is trying to better themselves, then for the lack of something better to say, fuck 'em.

Small steps, new habits and rogue pants..

So. Yeah. I am on my way. I’m having a hard time with work and life in general. I am stressed to the point where running naked down the street with a pair of scissors singing Battle Hymn of the Republic seem like a logical and completely normal thing one to do on a Tuesday afternoon. Last week I decided just to jump in and start on my fancy new way of eating. Well not really. I am just starting with small steps. I believe if I go full tilt boogie I will stress myself out if I make a mistake and ultimately fail. I think that’s where diets fail. Every. Single. Time. 

I know that the general public view fat people as lazy, slovenly and not able to have enough willpower to lose the weight. However, nothing can be further from the truth. There is no one more determined than someone that is going on a diet. There’s figuring out what diet to do, buying all the special food and then the exercise plan. Buying the DVDs or joining the gym, looking for sports bra that doesn’t cut off circulation to your liver, finding exercise clothes that doesn’t show your underwear. It’s endless. I’ve seen women at the supermarket with the whole cart full of Lean Cuisine, lettuce, skim milk and desperation. I can spot ‘em at 20 paces because I’ve been there. Starting a diet is not only about eating less and exercising; it is about dreams, hope and wishes of a better you. Most importantly, a better future. BUT. I know in my case I throw so much hope into a diet that when I slip and eat a cookie or candy, that ivory tower that I built comes crumbling down…and then I eat the whole box of cookies. Then the whole bag of candy. No one is as hard on themselves as a fat person. I’m sorry but what do people think? That fat people like to be fat?

Anyway. What is the point of that diatribe? Small steps. I figure smaller changes are easier to attain and it makes me feel good that I can stick to those changes even though they are small. Back in December I started going to the gym sporadically. I didn’t start a diet I just ate what I normally ate. Then I started using Splenda in my coffee. I have started to avoid prepackaged food and the margarine I heap on everything. Still eat it but I went from 2 tablespoons to 1 tablespoon. I am moving towards butter which isn’t the best but it’s better than margarine. I think my biggest problem is sugar so last week I have stopped drinking full sugar soda and my beloved Snapple. I am not in “diet” mode, I am in making better choices and listening to my body. 

Along with going to the gym, I have starting jogging. Well sort of a walk and then jog, untangle the dogs, pull up my pants, jog, almost hit a tree and try to figure out what the hell I’m doing type thing. I’ve actually bought undershirt suspenders to keep my damn pants up. I am not ashamed. I can’t wait to try them out.