New Changes Of All Kinds

For the first time in 9 years, I have a full time job outside of my home. For the last nine years I worked at home and it has gotten to a point where it was no longer providing me enough to live on my own or personal satisfaction. Now that I have full time employment I am free to choose a secondary income that is more fulfilling to me and much more flexible with my schedule. I quit the work at home job I had with an employer for over two years. I gave it my all, it wasn’t enough and my pocketbook reflected that.  Also because of my employment for the first time in a real long time I am going to have access to health insurance.  That means that I will have access to weight loss options.  Which ones, I don’t necessarily know but the one thing that I do know is that I am tired of being fat.

Now I have voiced my opinion in the past about the obesity seminar I went to at a local Keene Hospital a few years ago and how I felt like it was  a cattle herd to make a lot of money. I still do believe in the lapband procedure though. I just don’t want to feel like cattle being rounded up to earn the hospital a shit load of money.  I am sick of being obese. I can find no benefit of being so. I find that I even though I have worked very hard to find inner peace with myself, I cannot come to terms with my best friend telling me he likes me more than a friend. Why can’t I just accept it? Because I never knew that he liked me, even though he has said it a few times, I always thought he said things to make me feel good.  I find it hard to be around my friends who have recently lost weight and all they can do is talk about how disgusting they felt.  Fortunately, I don’t let that self-hate seep in.  But I do know that my thought processes when it comes to relationships are warped because of my fat. I always feel that people approach fat women from a perspective of what can I get out of her by using her need to be wanted?  If I eliminate that factor, I can no longer go down that path.

Ultimately, I am tired of being in pain all the time because I have a sciatic nerve that kills my back all the time. That I have a slip disc that tightens up, that my ankles swell, that I can’t indulge in my true passion for fashion, and the killer shoes that are in my closet because I can’t even bare to stand in them.  I no longer identify as a fat person. I feel that a lot of people identify themselves with exterior things and define themselves by that. For example, my mother defined herself as a smoker. Some people define themselves as a fat and state that they will always be fat. That is just not good enough for me.  I smoked. I liked to smoke a lot. But, I realized that I liked breathing a whole hell of a lot more.  I did not define myself as a smoker and I refuse to define myself a a fat girl any longer.

I do not like the feeling of being choked every time I put my seat belt on in my car.  I don’t like the feeling of wedging my fat thighs and ass into an office chair that feels like it’s going to break at any second. I do not like feeling that my stomach takes up my entire body and how it looks when I sit down. I do not like that I cannot bend comfortably when I wear jeans.  And I especially don’t like feeling invisible.  My blog has been a representation of who I am from the get go. I talk about my honest opinions about products I use and clothing I like and about my feelings of having excess fat on my body.  I talk about how I don’t like society’s message to us, and I can recognize how this seems like a contradiction.  Being fat is not like being gay in the sense that you cannot change being gay. You can be bisexual and attracted to both sexes, but you can’t be bi-fat. There is no swinging pendulum going from one to the other. Either you are fat or you are a natural weight for your body’s frame.

This past weekend I went to NYC for the feast San Gennaro. Naturally this is all about eating lol. What I did eat was about 5 deep fried oreos and a sausage and broccoli rabe wedge. The rest of it is about walking up and down the whole of Mulberry St. in Little Italy. I was sweating and exhausted by the time we got through with one half of the street and walking our way up through China town. It was the most uncomfortable I have felt in my own skin in a very very long time.  So now I just have to wait and see once my insurance kicks in and then I will start my journey down that path.

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