Bread….Warm Buttery Bread


bread

Growing up, I was never allowed to touch the bread at restaurants. You know the delicious hot bread that comes with butter at the beginning of most meals? It’s the bread that comes to the table, when you’re at your hungriest. As a child…well from eight years old, until today, I was always taught that bread was the enemy, and even looking at it would make me gain weight. I would watch with envy, and with drool coming out of my mouth , while my petite brother (sorry D) would chomp away at the tasty bread…with butter. Even before it hit the table, Ronnie Ginger would give me the eyes, making me aware that she was watching me, and that bread was MY enemy. When I became older and started going to restaurants with friends, I began to eat the free bread because no one was watching or judging. Little did I know that with each bite, I’d be blowing up a little more each time. On Donald’s first encounter with Ronnie Ginger, when he was just an innocent little boyfriend, taking his new girlfriend on dates, she nicely warned him that when he takes me out to restaurants, that I was not permitted, under any circumstances to eat the bread. She said this because I loved it so much…so she thought! Just to be clear, I don’t even like bread, I find bread to be dry, and boring and really just a waste of space. If I’m going to eat bread, I’m going to make it worth it- like a grilled cheese or French toast, but just plain bread doesn’t do it for me. The reason I became so aggressive as a child when I was refused the free bread at the table, was only because I was never allowed to have it. People always want what they can’t have, right? (I wasn’t allowed a lot of things apparently).

The thing with me and bread though, is that, bread is free, and it comes with most meals in America, and some parts of Canada. If it’s free, I like it, because I like good value. On the other hand, the whole reason why we’re going to a restaurant is because we’re hungry. If the polite waiter asks if I would like some free hot bread, and I’m hungry, and he places it right in front of me-then I’ll have a bite. I’m not going to eat an entire freaking basket of bread… this is because

1) I’m not an animal

and

2) I physically can’t keep in an entire load of bread

The moral of the story is, don’t deprive yourself. If you deprive yourself for your entire life, then one day you’ll eat an entire basket of bread, and wake up 50 pounds heavier.

Go ahead, have a bite, just a little bite.

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I’m Back!


I’ve said it once, and I’m hoping this is the last time I have to say it….I’m back, and feeling better than ever! I finally woke up, slapped myself in the head a couple of times and realized that I was wasting such an amazing opportunity that I was given. I have been sticking to my diet 110% and the results are just beyond words amazing. This is the LIGHTEST I have been in ten years. I’ve been fat for a while. Honestly, things are only going down from here…in a good way. There are new changes going on in myself that I am just so excited about!!!!  I now look down, and can see more foot than I have ever been able to! I had no idea that my pinky toe goes a bit to the left. I have less cheek than ever. I can fit less food in my chipmunk cheeks, and I look more girly now than before. My hair is coming in wildly quickly, and super shiny. My collar bones are back, and they’re bonier than ever. These things are weapons and the next person that pisses me off is getting beat with my amazing new collar bones.

I finally realize that I was given such a gift and I feel like for the last sixteen months I just abused the fact that I had a smaller stomach. I’m finally understanding how to use it and it feels amazing! I love this feeling, I’ve never felt this before. I’ve never woken up in the morning and tried on clothes, to have them fit me, or to try on an outfit and have it be TOO BIG… that’s just not me! So many changes are happening, and they’re all positive changes. I’m so happy beyond words!

 

 

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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).

 

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.

Cake Cake Cake


I cheated. I’m a big fat cheater. I feel terrible, and now I just want to curl up into a little ball and die in Carrot Caramel Cheesecake Heaven. The lovely 105 pound, Lexi Diggs is working so quietly at her desk with a beautiful piece of Carrot Caramel Cheesecake just staring at her in the face. She literally had this cake sitting on her desk and hadn’t taken a bite out of it. I had walked by about four times to see if she had taken a bite out of it, and nothing had been eaten. If that was me, that bad boy would have done some Houdini magic and that beautiful piece of cake would have disappeared in seconds!

I decided that I would be Fat Hillary and decided to walk over and ask if I could just simply smell her cake. She ever so nicely offered to give me the rest of it, and the skinny girl in me politely said “no thank you”. She persisted, and so, I took it. I took this piece of magnificent art to my desk and began smelling it, then I poked it, and then licked it. I took one bite, and I was hooked, so hooked in fact that I couldn’t quite keep my hands off it.  It was like the Brad Pitt of cakes. I took one fat girl bite and then another. Skinny girl butted in, in the middle of my cake eating binge and then, with food all over my face, sitting in a quiet office, I screamed at myself “NO FAT GIRL, PUT THAT CAKE DOWN”. I poured my Crystal Light all over the cake art and threw it in the garbage.

I think it’s good to be able to taste a little bit of everything, but not get too carried away. I mean, I’m a pro at getting carried away, how do you think I got this way? I think being able to take a bite, and then walk away without finishing the cake makes me stronger than I ever was.

Food is not the enemy, it’s just, well food isn’t your friend, but they’re not the enemy.