My Normal Life

No Seconds For Me, Thanks

I watch too much television.  It is constantly on.  It’s on right now.  The program is about Interventions.  This one’s focus is on anorexia.  I knew that I could never be an anorexic.  I always feel like I need to be eating.  I have never been a “normal” sized girl.  I’ve always been big.  Always.  I remember, when shopping for back to school clothes in elementary school, I wouldn’t be able to shop in the little girls department.  I was never able to wear the outfits that were designed for girls of my age.  Even now, I still feel that way.  I’m watching this show, I wish I was small, not as small as these girls, but there’s just something in me, that can’t get motivated.  I’m getting into the mode, but I just can’t get there yet.

 

I have Sergeant Dave.  I see him every Thursday, for 30 minutes.  I tell myself that I’m going to go at least one of his classes during the week.  I have in my mind, that the reason I don’t go to my gym, or stay longer after my sessions with him is because I still can’t take myself.  Because my dad or sister are waiting in the parking lot for me.  I’ve been told to stay as long as I want, but when I need to wake my dad out of bed to take me, I want him to go back to sleep.  I don’t like making people wait around for me.  Plus, I can run on our treadmill, but I’m too damn lazy.  I tell myself to do it, but…

 

Then, of course, there’s what I have working against me.  Two out of my four medications have a weight increase side effect on them.  But, I believe the new one that I’m on can cause a decrease in weight, so hopefully that one will happen to me.  Most of the time, people don’t want their medication side effects to have any effect on them, but when it comes to that one, I wouldn’t mind.

 

I have never been a hard worker, and now I have to work extra hard to try to achieve something that I have never ever been.  I always wonder what will happen if I can get down to my desired weight.  I get scared.  I can’t remember being less than two hundred pounds.  I think I’ve been that way for the past ten years.  I feel the need to step onto my scale every day, three times a day.

 

I’ve tried Weight Watchers.  I’ve tried Jenny Craig.  I want to eat healthy.  I really do.  I just don’t understand why I can’t.  And I’m watching this, and it makes me remember a time, not too long ago when I would, on occasion, throw up everything I ate.  Luckily, I stopped.  I had to.  I would only do it, though, so I could eat more.  I eat, and eat, and I eat.  I don’t know why I never feel full.  I don’t want to eat anymore.  I want to eat what I’m supposed to.  It helped my mom, and she’s trying to help all of us.  It’s just hard, since my sister won’t stop eating cheese burger after cheese burger and my dad pigs out on everything, and so do I.  I want to be better. 

 

I know that my reason for wanting to lose weight should be so I am healthy, but I want to be able to walk into any store and purchase any size off the rack.  When I go shopping, my section of clothing has nothing.  So is it wrong, that my main reason to lose weight, is so I can shop for something that I don’t even need?

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