It’s all fun and games until someone gains weight. *Part One*

OR……As the case may be, it’s all food and drinks.

It’s been a while, but here is my weight loss update.

I’m in an abusive relationship……with myself. Listen. I know it’s wrong and I should stop, but it’s so love-hate, I don’t know what to do. I am emotionally, mentally, physically and possibly (although I cannot confirm or deny) sexually abusive to myself. AND……Why? It’s all in the name of weight loss. NOW……This type of motivational abuse isn’t for everyone. In fact, it can be quite damaging. SO……Don’t try this at home, unless you are by yourself. The repercussions can be quite messy if you aren’t accustomed. AND…….Under no circumstances is anyone else allowed to be abusive to you for any reason. GOT IT!??!

How it began.

At first I was nice to myself. I told myself (inside voice…literally) I was attractive and looked pretty good in my jeans. My teeth were crap, but I wasn’t going to bash myself for that. I was paying the orthodontist good money to fix that debacle. My hair was a hot mess 70% of the time, but what guy gives a crap about your hair anyway. SO……I guess I mean everything from the neck down. That’s what bags are for anyway. Right asshole guys? I ate whatever I wanted and didn’t worry about exercising. Who has time for that crap?!!?

After having two kids in my thirties, I was still able to fit into a size six. Things were still the same. NOW…….I’m not going to lie. My daughter took the bulk of my breasts and is probably saving for her puberty. After giving birth to her, I was left with what can only be called “National Geographic breasts”, and I think you all know what I mean. I’ve seen quite a few tribal women hanging loose in that mag. I had no interest in this. SO…….Thanks to a wonderful doctor, who got paid to manipulate my upper region without a worry of having to buy me dinner, my girls went back to an upright position.

Things were going well, until I married the man I love and got comfortable. Damn comfort zone! He works nights, so I got into the habit of staying up into the wee hours and eating junk late at night. I was always too tired to exercise the next day. AND……People actually liked this husband, so I was drinking more socially. I noticed the weight creeping up on me when I had to wear tummy tightening gear to fit into my jeans, but I was too busy eating, drinking and being tired to do much about it. Then at 40, I had another baby. Heads up people….not a good way to get your metabolism into high gear. That’s how you go from a 6 to a 14 in 4 years.

This is when the abuse began………………….TO BE CONTINUED

13 thoughts on “It’s all fun and games until someone gains weight. *Part One*

  1. Darling all I can say is so what! This isn’t abuse unless you are uncomfortable in you skin. Honestly, if you are unhealthy and this means if you can’t walk up a flight of stairs, or are borderline diabetic unhealthy; size is nothing but societies way of controlling your view of yourself and making you feel bad.

    Personally? I fought this issue (internally) for years. My weight gain because of something I had no control of was harder than all the other stuff that went with that something I had no control of. I hid from the world for years. I felt ugly and unloved for years (some days honestly I still do). There are days I want to pick up the phone and risk my life for weight loss surgery because that is the only way I will ever lose it. The reality is though, I had no control over the shooting, the paralysis, or the weight gain. Now if Cosmopolitan calls and wants to feature me as their “Fun and Fearless Woman” they will just by damned need a foldout.


    1. The abuse part hasn’t started yet. I wasn’t referring to the weight gain. The abuse comes in the weight loss part of the story.

      I hear what you are saying. And Cosmo…..everyone is photoshopped in those pictures.

      Much to my dismay: Mike’s Hard Lemonade (about 12,000 calories a week in those alone) and beefy con queso dip for a solid two years, amongst other bad habits, wasn’t beyond my control.


      1. The point is Lorre, do only what is important to you and you alone. Only what is necessary for your health (mental and physical). It isn’t a race to have the most beautiful corpse but instead to have the best and most fulfilling life. Social norms be damned. What others accept as ‘beautiful’ or perfect be damned. Size 6 or Size 14, does it matter if you are healthy, happy, loved and loving?


      2. I agree 100% with what you are saying and I would never do anything just to please someone else (never wore red lipstick and heels for the ex). I wish that for everyone.
        I’m totally secure, but I will make it clear in my part 2 that the post isn’t about other people….just me, and not a judgment on anyone….just about me and my journey. A comical one at that.
        I don’t take my life too seriously. I take it, but with a lot of jokes down the road as my companion.
        Thanks for the comments.


  2. Boy, do I relate to this. Except for the childbirth part, since I don’t have kids. But I know exactly what you mean about getting comfortable and letting things go, and how everything changes as you move into each new decade, etc etc. Thank you for describing your experience so articulately!


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