Wednesday, July 14, 2010

I am fat.

Other than my parents and brother, I haven't had any one come right out and insult me with fat jokes or insults. Or just plain call me fat. That is until now.

This morning, I went to the methadone program as I do every Wednesday when most of North America is still sleeping, or at least home. Everything is business as usual until I get in my car. It takes me a minute to fall into such a low car with an even lower driver's seat. So my door was open for a minute. Not open all the way, as the car next to me was able to back out without a problem as I was climbing in. Next thing I know I am being screamed at. Yes, I should have closed my door faster knowing that my fellow junkies can be a tad "rush-y" this early in their day.

"Close your door you fat bitch"
I was in such shock at the comment, and am already an extremely sensitive (cries at the drop of a hat) person.
The tears welled up before I could even think to reach for the door.

"Ya stupid fuckin' cow! Close your door"
As he shouted this comment I was closing my door. I yelled back to him that I was sorry. If he had just honked or yelled close the door, it would have been closed faster. Again, saying I was sorry.

He just went on and on and on, wasting the time he claimed I was taking from him. "You are just trying to make me late." Yea, my whole goal in life is to make everyone else as miserable as I am most days. Really, my life revolves around people I happen to walk by once a week.

This whole incident lasted 2-3 minutes TOPS. Yet, it really got to me. As I drove off all I could think to myself was, "I am fat..."
My mother used to tell me all the time how I looked like a whale. My dad would ask me why my sister looks like this, and I look like that. Why my thighs were so large, why I have a muffin top... My brother always knew how to get to me: call me a slut or something along those lines or call me fat.

So this morning, him dropping this F-bomb, really stung. I have always had low self-esteem. I have always thought of myself as the ugly sibling. Our family has a joke that the only reason I had kids is for the attention.

I absolutely hate my body.
I haven't felt comfortable in shorts since elementary school.
I hadn't worn a bathing suit for years until last year when I actually felt good about my(pregnant)self.
It took me becoming a heroin addict to finally feel comfortable in my skin. And then the few months of new sobriety before pregnancy, I felt amazing.
It was short lived.
I weigh now at least 15 lbs more than I did on the day I delivered Bailey.

I know some of my weight is my problem. I eat reese's daily, I get iced lattes or frappes daily. I don't get to the gym as often as I should.

I am the person who needs results. I will spend a week or two really eating right and hitting the gym, and see NO results whatsoever, or even gain a lb or two.
Why stick with it?

As always with my blogging this is leading to a rambling mess. I am just so sick of being labeled as fat.
No wonder I have really taken to the new ABC Family drama, Huge....


  1. Stay within your own thoughts and try not to let others who thrive on taking their own miseries out on others in order to make themselves feel better get to you. MOST especially your average clinic-goer. There's a good handful of people who really are working hard at bettering their lives there, and then...there's the that douche. I have so many traumatizing memories left over from clinic days, lol, I promise it eventually gets better :) Stay focused :) Sounds like you've got bucket seats? Those can make anyone feel fat!! Hope you can find something positive to outshine the crappy start to your morning :)

  2. Personally, I think you're quite pretty, and the fact that you're such a nice person and dedicated momma and strong woman to overcome what you have just reinforces that.

    Screw others and what they think.

    I completely know what you mean about working hard and not seeing results. I just finally got to a point where I can work out and eat right and if they ONLY result is that I don't puff going up stairs and I feel better, then that's good enough for me. If I don't lose a single pound, I'll still be happy. You have to do it for yourself because nobody will appreciate it like you, that's for sure.



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