weight a minute! (Aw, puns.)

Sheesh, this blog is about to get super girly. Lord help me.

Well, lets start with this: I have struggled with my weight since I was a freshman in high school. Both the bitch of puberty, and a shitty home life causing me to find solace in food, were to blame. I always ate a lot, I always loved food. I went from a healthy, fairly skinny girl (at about 125-130 lbs) who could always eat as she pleased, to me gaining about 40 pounds in the course of 4 months, and not being able to eat the way I used to ever again. At least not without paying the consequences.

Ever since then, it’s been a constant battle. Truthfully, it took me about a year to even acknowledge I had gained so much weight. I continued to dress the same, eat the same. I was on some heavy medications for the majority of high school, and I don’t know how much they affected my awareness of the situation (I DO happen to know that at least 20 lbs was caused SOLELY by that medication.) Once I could no longer deny that I was the fat girl, I tried to lose weight. Sort of. I didn’t really dress properly for my size. I dieted. Sort of (not really.)

After high school, and after I stopped taking those medications, and lost about 20 lbs just from that, I definitely focused on it more. I tried going to the gym more often, I made a concerted effort to drink more water, I tried to eat more healthfully, here and there. I was mildly successful (the lowest I ever got was 150), and my weight has pretty much fluctuated ever since then. I have gone through every emotion, cycle, etc. that a fatty goes through. I blame genetics. I blame poverty. I blame my DD chest. I try diets and NEVER stick to them. I get really gung ho about going to the gym every other day, do that for a couple of weeks, and then I don’t go again for 6 months. But the fact is, I always CARED about my weight. Little things like trying to do cardio when I walked to the elevator, or trying to keep my stomach muscles taut, or doing (decidedly half-assed) crunchs once in a while. I gave a shit.

Now, at the age of 23, I am 5’2″, and 185 lbs. This is the heaviest I have ever been. And while I CARE… I find myself not caring enough to even do anything. And while those little attempts here and there were indeed, QUITE lame, and didn’t do a whole lot, they must have done something, because they kept me in the low 170’s at least. I mean, there ARE other factors (I drive now, so I’m a lot less active. I’m in school, so I have less time to even “fake” work out, there are tons of junk food and snacks at my office, etc.), but… I think about working out, and all I think to myself is “I’d rather be doing something else.” I can’t even bring myself to go through the motions of fake health and fitness.

Now, I’m fortunate… I don’t look like I’m 185. Oh make no mistake, I look heavy, but most are surprised to hear that it’s THAT much. In terms of proportions, I still have curves in the right places, and I still have a shape. And there are many men that (bafflingly) find me attractive. Sometimes I wonder if that is part of the reason why I don’t try as hard now, because, if I have learned nothing else, I learned that men are far more appreciative of curves than high school boys.

Either way, I need to lose weight. But whatever, this is nothing new. I’m just concerned that I don’t seem to care much. That seems unhealthy.

~ by Alli on Thursday, July 31, 2008.

2 Responses to “weight a minute! (Aw, puns.)”

  1. I weighed 200 pounds a year ago. No fucking joke.

    I feel you!


  2. babe, you look seriously good for your weight. We’ve had this conversation before. And man, you don’t look like you weigh 185 lbs. I was actually really really surprised when I read that. Anyway, I love you. You’re beautiful. Mwah!

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