I am an immense woman. An obese woman. A rotund woman. Grossly overweight.
I don't know how I let myself get to this awful place, and getting out of it is proving to be next to impossible. I can't help but think about what people say when they see me. Look at that really large woman. She must sit around eating doughnuts and cakes and drinking cokes all day. I bet she eats 4 quarter pounders a day.
Sigh.
When, in reality, I rarely eat out, and I choose to eat lots of vegetables. But, I also choose to drink margaritas and eat lots of potato chips. I'm really bummed out again today. Not sure if I'll walk. What good does it do? I didn't walk yesterday. Just couldn't muster up the enthusiasm to do it.
I'm glum, gloomy, despondent, dispirited, downhearted, morose, dismal, depressed as hell. I wonder what I would think about and do if I were of normal weight.
Sigh.
Reading an article in Psychology Today about how fat people tend to start hating themselves.These sentences from the article are so true:
Every time you make a disparaging comment about yourself, you die a little inside. You are scarring your soul. What you are saying is ‘I am ugly and wrong.’ That is simply not true.
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