Eff The Scale


I’ve come to the conclusion that the scale is a big fat bully. This stupid, glass, square shaped ass looks at me every time I pee and just wants me to stand on it and upset me.  Donald bought this super fancy one that tells you you’re fat, tells you how much oxygen you have, and then sends a notification to your phone reminding you how fat you are. First of all, once I get on the scale, that’s enough, I don’t need to get a little reminder with that number on my phone! How rude… Oxygen? Really?…I’m fine! 

 

So, I started this new thing and I’ve been doing it for about a week and it’s magical! I’ve started to measure my weight loss in the form of compliments rather than in the form of a stupid number. This past week, I have had one person say “I can’t believe what you look like today compared to what you used to look like“, ( I mean, I know I look a lot better, but I was never so hideous you couldn’t look at me!) for that compliment, I will take off 2.1 pounds. Then two days later, someone else said how thin my face got- another pound there! Measurements in compliments is way more effective than getting on some stupid box. By the way scale making people, perhaps you should make a scale that gives you compliments like; ” Good Morning Beautiful” or “You Look Nice Today”, what’s the point of these mean numbers anyway?

So from now on, I will keep eating my vegetables, and all you nice friendly people around me can keep the nice comments coming… I’m listening!!

Big Tummy, Little Legs


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I’ve said it a hundred times, and I will say it ten thousand more times: I have the best legs ever. My legs make me feel like a pretty skinny person. My legs are probably eight feet long, are a wonderful shade of tan, and are in the best shape ever. I have no jigglies, and I have no cellulite. I think I have my fat to thank for my beautiful legs. If it weren’t for my fat stomach, my legs wouldn’t be in such great shape. Think about it!! My legs have so much weight to carry around, how can’t they be so fantastic? I’ll stop bragging about my hot legs. While I got amazing legs, I got a teeny tiny bum. My bum now, at 25, is probably the same size as baby North Wests at 5 months old. Anyway- too bad for me.

Here are a list of reasons why it sucks to have a tiny butt:

1) I can’t take really cool selfies at the gym like all those other girls do, and show how hard I worked out my butt

2) When I do take a selfie, and it’s a side selfie, I look like Gumby

3) Jeans are not my friend. When I wear jeans, I look like I’m wearing uncomfortable sweatpants

4) I look ridiculous and not proportional. How can someone with such a huge stomach have such a small butt? I’m not normal looking.

Those are just some things, the list can go on and on. However, instead of complaining about the butt I don’t have, I choose to talk about the fantastic legs I do have. So I have these great legs, right. But I absolutely hate working them out. They get enough of a workout all day, and I can just complain about anything and everything. Anyway, I have this thing with ranting, and that’s what I’m doing. So now I’m shutting up about my legs. So, what comes with skinny, boney legs? A boney butt? When I sit on chairs, I need something with extra padding, or else I get uncomfortable and sit like I need to go poop. You know the dance you do when you’re sitting on a chair and you don’t want to poop yourself? Yup, that’s how I look. If anyone knows where I can get portable chair sized egg shell foam mattress things, please let me know so I can sit comfortably.

I’m going to go do some squats now.

 

 

The Scale: My Hate Relationship


 

 

I’ve stopped my affair with the scale. I don’t understand how one plastic box which displays numbers, can do so much harm! I love that little plastic box, but at the same time I hate it. When my little unpolished toes step on that box of fun, I can’t wait to see the number! Once my eyes set eyes on the scale, and I see that I’ve lost two pounds, my body goes into fat girl mode and decides that it’s time to binge. I know, “two pounds are wonderful, why would you want to sabotage that?”, first of all,  whoever is actually thinking that, you need to seriously shut up- because it’s not like I got on the scale and was all giddy and excited to eat like a fat horse. My plan isn’t to regain everything that I had just lost. I can’t control it. Most of the time when I eat, I’m not hungry. It’s an addiction. Yes, call me crazy, and fat, or just crazy fat but people can be addicted to food! Food is there, so I eat it. You can’t tell an alcohol addicted meth head that they have to stop all their bad habits in an instant. It takes time, and learning. While I know it’s already been seven months since surgery, I still struggle with my addiction, daily. It’s too bad they don’t make rehab for fat people who struggle from food addictions. I strongly believe that people on the outside truly believe that we fat people choose to eat ourselves sick, and to binge eat. It’s not like that, I can promise you that. While I know Hefty Helga has died, part of her still lives on in my mind, and will forever.

It’s so hard to be addicted to something that we are subjected to everyday. We need food to survive, and it’s everywhere I go! No matter how much I try to walk away from food, it surrounds me; whether it comes from passing the vending machine,  or hearing the disgustingly loud people around me chewing like horses etc. I’m supposed to train myself, and to learn that food is for eating, and not an activity to take up when I am bored. Do I really want to be that girl one day who introduces herself and says “Oh Hello, I’m Hillary. Nice to meet you. I’m a professional eater. What do you do?” Like seriously.  As sick as it sounds, sometimes I wish I had another addiction. Maybe being addicted to some of those Breaking Bad drugs wouldn’t be the greatest thing for me, or my teeth, but maybe it would make me forget about food. Food really doesn’t make me feel anything. I used to feel satisfied during and after binge eating, but now I find myself feeling sad, and depressed after I’ve eaten something I know I shouldn’t.

One thing I’ve started doing, is making new friends. I’ve made new friends with my stomach. After I eat something I shouldn’t, I lift up my shirt, and stare at the scars. I look at the scars, which help me in reminding myself how I got here, and what I plan to accomplish. Eating a bag of chips won’t help in shrinking those scars, eating because I’m bored in general won’t help shrink the scars. The only thing that will help shrink the surgery scars, is me. Chips, chocolate, cookies, ice cream etc, are all parts of my life that really have no place there. They are not wanted, and there is no need for it. I’ve told myself so many times; “Eat to live, don’t live to eat”, it’s so easy to say it, but so hard to do.

And for the five hundredth, and hopefully last time, I say this: No More Excuses. I get on the scale, and I be proud that I’ve accomplished a two pound weight loss. I get on that scale, and instead of marching my fat bottom to the fridge, I walk it out the door, and for a walk (not to the ice cream store).

 

Helpful Tips For Full Stomach Sized People


Since my surgery, I have noticed a lot of changes. Changes in my body, in my health, in my breathing while walking up stairs, and also personality and my confidence. I’ve also noticed a lot of changes in the ways that others treat me. While I’m not trying to point fingers at anyone, there should be a couple of things that should be made clear:

1) People who have had weight loss surgery are people too. While we may be trying to lose weight, it doesn’t mean that we don’t have sweets, or treat ourselves once in a while. If I want to taste a cupcake, I will taste a cupcake. It is in absolutely positutely no way anyone elses place to tell me that I can’t have a cupcake, and/or give me a motherly face that cupcakes are bad for me. I know cupcakes are bad, and I know that I want to try one. Just a friendly reminder: I physically do not have room in my stomach to eat an entire cupcake, but I do have the room to satisfy myself with one teeny tiny bite. The old me would have been the closet eater self that I was, and not had any cupcakes at a family gathering – then when I’m sitting home alone on a Saturday night, I would instead have had a movie night with Ben and Jerry and my dear old friend Humpty Dumpty. I’m not out to sabotage my weight loss by one bite. I just want a measly taste.

2) When people say “You took the easy way out”. I’m sorry, you should rephrase your sentence, because this is in no way easy. There is nothing easy about parting with 85% of your stomach. There is nothing easy about learning to live life a new life, or learning a new way of eating. There is absolutely nothing easy in seeing an entire plate of food in front of you, knowing that you can’t physically eat it. It’s hard, and just because I had this surgery, does not give anyone the right to look me in the eye and say those words to me. The first thing I learned in my info session before weight loss surgery, was that this surgery needs to be used as a tool. The weight will not just fall off instantly and magically fit into a bikini overnight. What we see on TV, and in the magazines, are not what it’s like in reality. I speak not only for myself, but for everyone around me, unless you have lived through this, had any type of weight loss surgery, it does not give you the right to bash someone and accuse them of “taking the easy way out”.

3) When you say “you look so skinny!”, it’s super nice and all that you think that, but last I checked, I weighed 204 pounds, and according to my BMI chart, I am obese, nowhere near the “skinny” category. In fact, there is no such thing as a “skinny” category. There is morbidly obese; which I have happily moved on from, obese, overweight, normal and underweight. At this point in my life, I am obese, seriously, true story, and  I hate to break it to you, but it’s the truth. While I appreciate a flattering comment – at the end of the day, we both know I’m not skinny. I don’t ever want to be skinny. My goal is to be normal….and healthy. Skinny is just an overrated fad and really unflattering on most people.

4) I like snacks. Snacks are an important part of my diet. Considering the fact that I have the stomach the size of a baby banana, I get full quite easily, with a teensy bit amount of food. Just because I’m on a food schedule, doesn’t mean you need to mock or make fun when I get hungry at 11:00 am.

5) As mentioned weeks ago, the same way it’s impolite to ask someone when the last time they shaved their legs was, it’s equally as inappropriate to ask a person how much they weigh. I understand, I have a blog, I am sharing this for the world, everyone is curious. However, it is MY blog, and I share the details of my weight loss. When I want to share my weight, I will, if you are curious and I’m not in the mood to share,  then maybe you can sneak a scale under my feet somehow and find out for yourself, or back off? But as it stands now, just leave it, and when I want to mention something I will. Capeche?

Weight loss for anyone is not easy. Even without this tool it’s hard. Nothing in life is made to come easy. Sometimes people who haven’t had the surgery don’t know all these little fun facts I’ve shared today. Now we know, and now we can all treat each other like normal little individuals.

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D Is For Doritos


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Doritos. Do I need to say more? Doritos are the cheesiest, crunchiest delicious little triangles of goodness. Seriously, no chip does it for me other than a Dorito. Also, who can really sit down and eat just one Dorito. They are all so perfectly traingularly shaped. Doritos have the perfect amount of cheese to crunch ratio. The cheese doesn’t taste like that cheap stuff, but I know that it is. There’s this kick to it that is kind of spicy, but then you take a moment to think about it, and it’s not spicy. It’s a magic tortilla crisp. I’m salivating and feeling fatter as I write this.

Yesterday was my first encounter with a family sized Coscto style bag of Doritos since surgery. I said hello, smelled it, and then I licked it. After licking it, I proceeded to bite its head off and really just enjoy the hell out of it. It being one chip, no, I shouldn’t lie– I had four chips. I didn’t feel guilty, even though my mommy would probably want me to be angry that I ate those four little triangular cheesy taste munchers.

Anyway, I’ll enjoy munching on my pickle for now. See you next summer Mr.Dorito.

My Personal Fashion Statement


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My clothing options weren’t always the best choice. I would have two extremes. Either I would dress myself up as a homeless bag lady, or I’d pretend that I weighed 120 pounds and wear booty shorts with a barely there t-shirt. Either way, no matter the outfit, I looked ridiculous. It’s funny though. I would leave my house, thinking I looked absolutely spectacular, and it would take only one strange look for me to feel ridiculous in my outfit of the day. I’ve come to the realization that nobody can make me feel pretty but me. Maybe I like my oversized sweaters. They’re comfy and make me look ten pounds larger than I really am. I like them and I’m comfortable in them, so I will wear them! Maybe I also like to show off my pleasantly plump belly button. I like my belly button. I think it’s nice and perfectly rounded and perfect in general. Why shouldn’t I want to show that bad boy off?

Maybe it’s because I’ve never loved myself up until now, or because I’m learning to love me for me. Who knows. Whatever it is. Maybe someday I will want to wear fancy couture, or I will want to wear less revealing boobie clothes and more revealing bum bum clothes. If I feel good in what I’m wearing, then I will wear it. Let there be reactions from others, I’ll take it as a compliment. I’ll love me, no matter what I wear. I’m more important than what the clothes on my back.

Charlie Hane sent me this little piece yesterday, and I was blown away by it…

 

“I just know that I was tired. I was tired of thinking less of myself because others did. People always ask me, ‘You have so much confidence. Where did that come from?’ It came from me. One day I decided that I was beautiful, and so I carried out my life as if I was a beautiful girl. I wear colors that I really like, I wear makeup that makes me feel pretty, and it really helps. It doesn’t have anything to do with how the world perceives you. What matters is what you see. Your body is your temple, it’s your home, and you must decorate it”- Gabourey Sidibe.

Mannequins


Today is May 21st and I am still fat. I put an anorexic mannequin on my desk to remind myself everyday what I want to be. I don’t want to be a mannequin, because in reality, I would still like my limbs and my gorgeous head. But I would like that figure.

I’ve started this new thing, where I’ll just be drinking water. All day. I just started today though. So far it’s good. I have visited the peepee palace around 15 times and I’m loving it.

PS. The scale moved. I am at 212 and have 13 more pounds until ONEDERLAND