I have known both ends of the spectrum…lets just say there were some tough times growing up when I had to do other things to take my mind off the growling of my stomach and then the eventual hunger pains. Drinking water on an empty stomach still makes me feel sick. And then we would get some food and my sis and I would just eat and eat and eat until we were groaning and immobile.

And here I am fifteen or some odd years later and I think I’m still fighting this eating seesaw. I can go HOURS without eating and then stuff my face until I feel like I will literally explode with the next bite…and lets face it; that would be messy. But what’s different now is that I feel crazy guilty when I eat like that…I should considering I’m probably eating five days worth of calories. But beyond that, the ‘fit to burst’ feeling translates to me having no control and I KNOW I have more control than that. It has come to the point when I LOVE the empty feeling and I look forward to the hunger pains. How sick is that? I suppose not eating and controlling myself means that I have the will power to turn away from food…the good and the bad.

This weekend, I am running a food gauntlet. I mean food is like being thrown at me and I have to duck out the way or go over my daily calorie count. I have donuts flying by my head and I’m tripping over pizza slices and I’m barely staying afloat in a sea of carbonated high fructose corn syrup bliss. I want to indulge so bad. I’m craving that immobile feeling of fulfillment I had when I was younger when I went without for long amounts of time. I want to groan, undo my pants and sigh after eating. But I can’t.

I am trying to reprogram my thinking to find a happy medium between starvation and over consumption. I need to be satisfied with…satisfied. I need to stop thinking that I’ll only be happy if I’m full to Thanksgiving capacity. And I need to do this soon, because pigging out every weekend is sabotaging my ‘life style change’.

…well that and the French fries with honey barbeque sauce…soooooo addictive and sooooo good!

I have finally gotten my lap top back. Some three weeks ago, there was an issue with the wireless and then the techie guy talked computer to me for about 20 minutes, none of which I understood until he said it would take three weeks to get my computer back. It was a sad, sad time for me. But it’s back!

So I am currently on break from school…starts back the first week of September. My friends want to have a girls night out during labor day weekend. I’ll be honest; I’ve been in hermit mode most of this year as I try to drop those pesky 60 pounds. But since it’s taking me a little longer than expected, I have to give in. So I want to go out, I just wish I could leave that roll that spills over the top of my jeans at home, you know?

I guess I should admit to owning a few articles of shapewear. Corsets and the briefs and the body suit, but honestly, who invents these things?!? They either ride up, slip down or pinch in unmentionable places. Not to mention those damn snap crotches. It’s almost impossible to go to the bathroom in a normal amount time. Trust me, I tried and it was HORRIBLE! Oh come on, I can’t be the only one who has suffered through the agony of shapewear. And another thing, they don’t really work. I still have a roll, it’s just smoother. It’s like putting perfume over funk; it won’t fly.

After a rather traumatizing night with shapewear where I had to beg my friend to take me home so I could take the necessary ten minutes to use the restroom (you know with the snaps and the pulling and the tugging and the shifting…), I threw all of my shapewear into the back of my closet never to be seen again. So when this weekends plans were made, I had a brief thought of pulling out the corset…you know to give me that hour glass figure we know and love, but the corset rides up, and then there are the briefs, but they slip down and the body suit…yeah the snaps. In the end I decided that I’m going to let my roll hang on out. Let it have its last hurrah, because this time next year, it will be longggggg gone!

Like seriously, I’ve ALWAYS been the fat kid from as far back as I can remember. I was a small baby, but then my grandmother couldn’t get me to stop crying when my mom went back to work and would feed me to keep me quiet. So I became the chubby kid. Where I’m from, Fat = ugly and that’s what I thought of myself. My sis was super skinny and stylish…back in the late 80’s early 90’s. If you saw pics of her, she looked like an extra on the Cosby show, like she was one of the kids or one of their friends. She had the best clothes and all these boys calling her. So to me, that meant Skinny = pretty/happy/popular. I had an ugly duckling/swan complex when I was younger; I thought I would hit a certain age and become something else. And since this never happened I spent ALL of my teen years thinking I was ugly. I have finally grown out of that, but I’m still faced with the problem of thinking that because I’m fat it makes me unattractive. I’m still thinking that once I lose this weight, I’ll feel better about myself but I sometimes wonder if that won’t be enough, like I’ll lose this weight and I’ll find something else wrong with my skin…my hair…my height….