I am an emotional wreck this week. During lunch today, my boyfriend asked me why I love Costco so much and tears starting pouring out of my eyes. All I could mutter was, “Why do you make fun of me all the time?” Pathetic, I know. I am obviously riding the emotional roller coaster of menstruation. Nevertheless, I’m particularly depressed and sad this period. I never thought a trip to the pet store would send me over the edge, but boy was I wrong. Yesterday, the BF and I brought our dog to Mondou to pick up a few bones. There was a huge scale on the floor next to the cash. I tried to get my jerk dog to climb onto the scale so we could weigh him. Of course, he wasn’t cooperating so I forcefully picked him up and put him on it. Big mistake. As I climbed on, I saw the numbers on the scale sky rocket. I dropped my dog and stood on the scale until the numbers stopped. My stomach turned, my eyes swelled up and I had a lump in my throat. In about four years, I gained 30 lbs! What the fuck?
This is hard for me, but I’m ready to tell the world right now how much I weigh. Well, I’m not exactly ready, but I’ll do it anyway. It needs to be done. I always lied about my weight and said I don’t know what it is or I ball-parked it, but now I know for sure. I weigh 178.6 lbs and it’s the most I’ve ever weighed.
After seeing that number, I rushed home and googled “liposuction Montreal” and “tummy tuck scars”. I threatened my bf and claimed that I would get a loan to finance my decision to go under the knife. I swore I would only eat carrots and I’d start counting calories.
I know what you’re thinking: diet & exercise. I already know this; I’ve had 3 gym memberships in my life time and I can’t stay motivated to go. My diet is actually, for someone my age, pretty good. I don’t drink very often, I don’t wake up at 3 a.m. to eat cookies and ice cream and I rarely pig out on junk food. In fact, I drink a shit load of water and green tea and I walk a lot! If anything, my eating habits and exercise have improved in the last four years. I don’t get it.
This weight gain is making me practically mentally unstable. I’m always paranoid my bf is checking out some skinny bitch when we’re walking downtown. Sometimes, I take some of the things he says totally out of context and blow them out of proportion. Less than five minutes ago, we were at the dep flipping through US Weekly and I pointed at Kim Kardashian’s bikini-clad body. I sighed and he said, “C’mon, it’s all photoshopped” to which I replied, “Whatever, you wish I looked like that. You’re just with me ’cause you’re stuck with me”. It’s ruining my relationship.
Melissa is right, scales are bastards. However, I can’t seem to find the courage to accept or to change myself. I’ll never get a tummy tuck because I don’t have thousands of dollars and I don’t want them to sew two parts of my stomach skin together. Not eating? Impossible. I enjoy food way too much and deep down inside, I know it’s bad for me.
I’m not sure what I’m getting at with this post; I just really needed to let it all out. I’m sad.
Does anyone have any miraculous weight loss solutions? Or, at the very least, an explication as to why I’ve gained so much weight?
– Maria D
PS: I Googled “180 lbs” and found this article, which slightly cheered me up.