Fat = Lazy?

I’m going to deviate a little bit from the usual light hearted stories about my life, and be a bit more serious this time. I want to talk about one of the things I’ve found sucks the most about being overweight. I’m sure other people who are overweight will disagree and have other things that suck more, and that’s fine, everyone’s experience is different. But I think the thing that sucks the most for me are the looks.

You can eat healthily all month, you can carefully calorie count and exercise and do everything you’re “supposed to”, and maybe you allow yourself one treat every once in a while. Something sweet, or a burger from that place you’re craving, or a bag of crisps. But the moment you get that in your hand, it’s almost a guarantee at least one person will look at you as if to say: “Aha, just another fat and lazy person stuffing their face.” Worse, it’s often from other people who are eating the same thing you are, but because you’re overweight, you’re no longer entitled to it.

It hurts, and I sometimes feel like shouting out that I usually eat well and exercise, I want to tell them that I’ve lost 4 lbs this month, but I can’t. And I don’t think I should have to, either. Nobody judges someone of average weight for eating a cookie, so why is it acceptable to throw judgemental and disgusted looks at me for the same thing. One example of this that hurt the most was when I complained to a server at KFC that the drink he’d given me was regular pepsi instead of diet pepsi, and he looked at me in scorn and said: “You’re not fooling anyone with a diet drink.”

Excuse you, motherfucker?

Why is it any of his business which drink I choose to drink? Whether it’s regular, diet, or bloody champagne? I happen to drink diet because I don’t like the taste of regular, it’s too syrupy and thick for me to enjoy, not for any other reason than that, but I was so ashamed at what he said that I scuttled back to my seat red-faced and just didn’t have a drink. People look at you in the street and assume you’re lazy or all you eat is crap because you’re overweight, and it’s the thing that sucks the most for me.

So if you see someone in the street, don’t assume based on their size. Maybe that overweight person is overweight medically, or is mid-losing weight, or that extremely thin girl eats like a horse and just can’t seem to gain weight. Please make these preconceptions a thing of the past, because weight loss is a long and hard enough journey without all of that added to it.

Anyway, rant over, sorry about that, guys.

Weekly weigh in

Weight: 274.4

Waist: 125cm

Bust: 126cm

Hips: 134cm

So a loss all round this week, weight and measurements. I’ve been swimming a lot more, so I’m pretty happy with myself in that regard.


Old People

My Grandpa is awesome, I love him so much, but he’s definitely not technically minded. He has a computer because he likes to think he’s mastered the web (which to him means email and ebay), and he does a lot better than other people his age, so I say good for him. But sometimes things happen that make me remember he’s still not quite The Web Master 2014.

He sent me an email, a very nice one with love from him and Grandma, but he made one fundamental mistake… he wrote the entire email in the subject line and then left the body of the email blank. See…


Weekly weigh in

Weight: 276.2 (oh no, an increase!)

Waist: 128cm

Bust: 128cm

Hips: 136cm

So that’s a weight gain, but a 1cm loss from the hips and a 2cm loss from the bust. What are you doing body? Get it together, we’re supposed to be a team here.

The Amazing Inflatable Girl

Roll up, one and all, for the Amazing Inflatable Girl. Marvel in wonder as she somehow manages to lose and gain six pounds in one day. Gasp in awe as the scales read a different number in the evening than the morning. Clap in adoration as she sobs and hurls the scales away with arms that belong on the Michelin Man.

But seriously. I decided today to see just how much my weight fluctuates during the day. I know that you should weigh yourself consistently at the same time, usually before breakfast on a morning, and that you get heavier as the day goes on. I knew I shouldn’t weigh myself in the evening, it would just depress me, but apparently I’m stupid.

Six whole pounds? Six whole pounds?!

That’s the difference between morning me and evening me, which is quite a difference. I don’t think I like evening me very much, and I won’t be weighing her again. She can sit in the corner and feel good about how much weight morning me is managing to lose, while steadfastly ignoring the bloating. Seriously, with that much fluctuation, I have to wonder what’s causing it. Is it air? Food? Some kind of magical spell? One day am I going to blow up like Aunt Marge Dursley and float away?

These are the eternal questions which plague me, and now plague you. You’re welcome.

On another note, I’d like to recommend that anyone who finds this blog (as well as the few friends I bullied into taking the link) follows Asshole Disney on Tumblr. Don’t be fooled by the name, a large portion of this blog deal with asks about fashion and general cute, funny, and sometimes embarrassing stories. The woman who runs it is a total sweetheart, and her tumblr/blog is partly what inspired me to start losing weight properly. I sent her an anon ask when I was really down one day, and she replied patiently and kindly, without being insincere. So go check her out, and you’ll thank me later.

Spiders in my hair

I try and keep on top of cleaning my flat, because I’m supposed to be a responsible adult who takes care of that sort of thing… mostly… sometimes. Anyway, cobwebs usually escape my attention because they’re up so high and I’m short without any ladders to reach them. Except I noticed a big cobweb with what looked like a dead spider in it over my bed, and I thought I better get rid of it or else it would probably drop off in the night into my mouth.

I got up on the bed and prodded it with a duster, and that’s when it fell apart to reveal literally dozens of tiny baby spiders. They went everywhere, all over my wall, my bed, my hair, my clothes. I might have been scared once upon a time, but then I remembered some amazing spider pictures I’ve seen that prove spiders are total dorks.

See? Dorks.

So I’ve decided to keep them all and call them Cecil. All of them.

In other, more serious and weight related news. I swam 80 lengths today, but had to get out in the middle for a glass of water because I was hiccuping. I’ll tell you now, hiccup swimming is not elegant.

And then my boob ruined my life

Hello out there, random people viewing this page by mistake. I’m assuming you got here by mistake, because this is a new blog and nobody knows it exists except me. If you came here looking for stories about weight loss, mental health issues, life, and embarrassing moments then this is your lucky day, pull up a chair and sit down. If you got here because the fat swimmer sounds like a bad porn movie, then you should probably turn around and walk away now. Or don’t, I’m open minded.

So, a little about me, I guess would be a good place to start. I’m 27, female, and ridiculously overweight. I also suffer from schizophrenia, as well as bouts of depression and anxiety. I weigh 274.4 lbs as of today, which is actually 4 lbs lighter than I was 12 days ago (go me and go exercising). I spent ages trying out different types of exercise, but I hated them all. Most ones that need excessive movement make me feel like someone is sawing off my breasts with a rusty knife, and no sports bra in the world is enough to contain that completely. And then I remembered swimming. I always loved swimming, even as a little kid, so that’s become my exercise of choice.

I was doing pretty well last week, I got up to 76 lengths in 80 minutes of swimming, and I was feeling pretty good about myself. Other than the fact my arms feel like they want to drop off all the time now from aching, things were finally going to plan. And then the incident happened…

Some misguided part of my brain thought: “Let’s dive in, that will definitely end well.” And being the idiot that I am, I listened to that part of my brain. A bit self consciously (because let’s face it, a swimsuit is not flattering for a woman the size of a small killer whale) I got out of the pool and settled myself at the deep end. One leap and a splash later, and I felt pretty accomplished. I came up for air, looking proud of myself and… hey, other people must have been impressed, because they were all looking at me. The old woman and her husband, the families, and the large crowd of kids having a swimming lesson, they were all looking at me. Staring, in fact.

And that’s when I noticed it.

My right boob had popped completely out of my swimsuit during the dive and was flopping around on show to everyone. I think when I go back, I’ll have to wear a fake moustache and speak with a bad foreign accent as a disguise.

Weekly weigh in

Weight: 274.4 lbs

Waist: 128 cm

Bust: 130 cm

Hips: 137 cm