Anger

I’m so angry with myself. I’m angry at everyone right now. I’m angry at my sister for being the “thin one”, angry at my husband for being able to eat every friggin thing he wants and his cholesterol is only 146, angry at my mother for not being here anymore, angry at every person who doesn’t have to get “banded”. I’m angry that all those skinny bitches are okay with eating healthy. I’m angry that I wont be able to eat a steak sandwich anytime soon, if at all. All this anger is making me very hungry. I think I’ll have a cup of tea. That should help. Yeah, right.

If anger is fear, what am I afraid of? Maybe I’m afraid of being thin. Its seem so scary to look good in my clothes, frightening to be able to fit into theatre seats, and just spooky to think about how good I’m gonna feel. Well. Maybe I’m afraid of how good thin will feel. After all, I was always overweight, even as a child. Yeah, I had a fleeting moment of near thinness between 1987 and 1988. It lasted for about a year. It was great. It was empowering. It was freeing. It was frightening. Wait. Its not the kind of fear where you’re walking around afraid to be thin. Its not like that. I mean, as the weeks went by and my clothes were getting looser and my body was changing, it put me on such a high. It didn’t feel real. I always had a “pretty face”, that famous bullshit line, but I did. So now, I have this near thin body, which by the way, I was lucky enough to be the kind of fat person where I had a small waist and big ass. So, when I lost weight, my body looked pretty good. People didn’t recognize me. I got compliments all over the place, guys were whistling, my mother actually said I should stop losing weight now. You lost enough, she said. I never thought I would ever be told that!.. It was a whole new world. My confidence went though the roof. I was accused of having a chip on my shoulder. I didn’t give a crap. I deserved this. I worked hard for it. I’ll be as obnoxious as I wanna be. Everyone can kiss my fat ass!


Ah, but alas. After about a year, my short bout with thinness was over and I had gained back all that I had lost and gained a few more. It actually was easier for me to be fat. I didn’t have to work at anything to keep my figure. I just had to eat. Everyone expected me to be fat. That’s who I was. That’s how people knew me. It wasn’t surprising to see that I was fat again, it was surprising if I wasn’t. People were more comfortable with me being fat. And, I was more than happy to oblige. They would have lost their eating partner. That would have been terrible. The funny thing is that I was the only one getting fatter and my eating partners weren’t. Bitches.