You know, I was so excited my formerly favorite pink dress shirt fit me once again that I didn't even hesitate to put it on this morning.
Paired with my black cropped pants, which also used to be rto tight and now fit, and my black sweater vest thing from Nordstrom, I thought I had a pretty cute outfit on. My black flats sealed the deal.
A few hours later, I could not be LESS comfortable in clothing as I am in this outfit.
Have you ever tried on a bra in the store? You put it on, you do the jump up and down test, you lift and tuck and make sure it fits. But days later, when you first wear it, halfway through the day, you know you made a bad purchase. This is sort of how I feel about my outfit today. Good attempt, good fit at the start, but now my right boob is popping out of the cup. (Metaphorically, of course. My right boob is just fine.)
So as a result, I am having a fat day. A day when I don't even want to get up from my desk, a day when I freak out to find anyone is walking behind me, a day when I am sure everyone is watching every item I put in my mouth.
Tomorrow, I may have to come to work in pajamas just to make it up to myself. Wouldn't that be something?
Today? Down 5 pounds more. It's really amazing. I don't feel it and I don't even think I look it, but people have started to notice, which is great.
Why are my pants not loser on me? Was I wearing them too tight to begin with? How embarassing.
On Friday night, I let go. And really, for those who don't know me in person, I don't let go too often. But me and my girlfriends put on our sluttiest clothes and went out to a club for some dancing, drinking, and all kinds of debauchery. Without getting into too much detail, it was awesome to be in this place where no one cared what I was wearing or doing or saying. I was so free to be myself in that space and it was incredibly gratifying. In my low-cute revealing ensemble, I was like this seuper-hero version of myself who could dance all night in heels, throw back a few drinks, and flirt with strange men that I would never otherwise chase. Nothing has ever felt so liberating before!
And so what do we learn from this children? How do we feel better about our bodies? We dress like sluts and drink a couple Vodka Tonics...
I'm kidding, of course. Sort of. I mean, kind of.
Don't try this at home.
Why can't I feel like that all the time? Well, maybe in 30 more pounds I will. Maybe in 100 more pounds I will. When my 10-year reunion rolls around (December 8th) and I can put on my stunning black suit that I love and miss so much, I know I'm going to feel reborn. I know it. And I know I can get the weight off in time to wear that. I'm so close!
I hope you're all having a happy and health-filled day.
Despite my insane eating in the last few days - and I mean GROSS overeating most likely due to depression and/or stress - I just had a lovely moment in the office restroom.
Now don't go getting any funny ideas, perverts.
I was washing my hands and looking up in the mirror and for the first time, really, I could notice I looked a little thinner. I mean, not THIN, but definitely a few pounds lighter, which is nice. It could very well be the outift, but let's suppose for my sake that I just look a little more in shape.
That felt nice. And rewarding. If only for a fleeting moment.
I was fine during most of my trip to Las Vegas. I was far more concerned this weekend with how I felt as opposed to what I ate. I'd already conceded to myself that I was going to have a free-eat weekend. Vacation is vacation, after all.
I had a breaking point on Friday night. We were getting dressed to go out and I looked like hell. The way I felt, I could have been in a gown- it may as well have been burlap potato sacks.
I must have changed my outfit 7 or 8 times. I was sweating, I was crying in the hotel room, I was totally having a panic attack. Just because I couldn't find something to wear. Which seems ridiculous to me now. It's not usually a problem. Oh sure, I'm not skinny and my clothes aren't Armani, but I know what works with my body. I'm good with that. I dress to flatter what I've got to deal with.
Anyway, it was completely irritating. But I ended up in jeans and my favorite top. Comfort clothes. And it was okay. But I felt foolish. It was a shame I couldn't shake all night.
On Sunday, when we were waiting in the valet area to leave, I spied a woman, not too far away, who was just beyond morbidly obese. I was fascinated by her. I wondered where her clothes came from. And I noticed how fat and swollen her feet and ankles looked in her Crocs. I thought about how horrible the heat must be for her. If I could barely take it, she must be dying. And I felt overwhelmingly sad for her. I empathized with her. She was quite large, much more so than I, but I suddenly didn't feel too unlike I imagined she did. And she was smiling, hugging people good-bye before she got in the car, and I saw her get into the backseat of a Camry. I marveled over how she just got into the car and couldn't believe she fit.
That could have been me. I mean, it pretty much was or is. And all those obstacles - cars and plane seating and movie theaters... It's no less painful or embarassing for either of us.
Would you be shocked to learn that fat people sweat more?
No, I didn't think so.
Look, let's be totally honest. Having extra weight on your body earns you extra skin. And thus, you end up with folds and creases where God did not intend them. The back, the armpits, the waist... Don't scrunch your nose at me, mister; it's not any easier to talk about it than it is for you to read about.
So showering takes some extra care - to make sure you wash everywhere and subsequently, wash off everywhere. Drying off takes a little extra time cause who wants to put their clothes on and find they missed a spot? Ever had a rash from soap you didn't catch? It sucks. Ever find a pimple in a weird place? On your arm? Your... knee?
(Yes, I found a pimple on my kneecap. However, this is not due to fat. This is God being cruel. I promptly said b'bye to odd pimple which, I pray, I shan't be visited by again. I am only telling you this to be funny. It does not strengthen my point.)
Anyway - where was I?
Try sleeping in the Summer when you're overweight. My God, people, it's horrible. I wake up every morning tangled up in whatever structure I put my pillows in so I could be comfortable the night before. Because maybe if I lay just so.... I won't be as hot, I won't sweat as much, and I won't feel like a total heffer. The heat is not kind.
In the morning, the shower is a wonderful way to relax, even if only for 6 minutes, but then the cycle begins again....
On Saturday night, yet another reminder of the size of my ass, ladies and gentlemen.
It's not too horrible to go to a concert but shit, if I wanna sit down, t's horrible. First of all, I am worried that I am crowding the people on either side of me. And I don't know what's worse- if those people are my friends or if they're strangers. I am worried about my knees knocking into the back of the head of whomever is in front of me. I am, most likely, pouring off the sides of my seat, because I just don't fit in there like I should. Arm rests? A real bitch because they cut into my side. I can't keep my soda in the cup holder in front of me cause I need the space for my legs. And so I chugged it so that I could just drop the empty cup on the ground under my seat.
And I still managed to have fun, by the way. I would hate for you to think I didn't.
It does make one wonder, though, what people larger than I have to do to sit down at Staples Center.
Tonight at dinner, by the way, it priavtely amused me that I put my napkin in my lap. Food never makes it past my boobs and I don't know why I bother, except that I suppose decorum dictates I do so.
This is not unlike school, where I do not fit comfortably in the desks. I think so much so at this point that I just dread attending Summer classes (in the Fall and Spring, we're in the Comm building where the facilities are far nicer and far, far more comfy). But anyway, they are these little black folding chairs where the desk comes up from one of the armrests and folds over your lap. A skinny person can do it, I'm sure. But I have to drag over an additional chair/desk and use the desk from it so that I do not have to suffocate myself. It angers me every time but how do you fix that immediately? You can't. I'm done being humiliated by having to do this, however, as this blog has completely freed me of caring for some reason.
I shall now continue to enjoy my Jenny Craig Veggie Bruschetta chips. Not their best item, but tolerable for a late night munch.