Sitting here in lacy underwear I feel like a fraud. During a recent holiday shopping frenzy I found some sexy lingerie in my size. Nothing tacky or trashy and nothing with a bloody plus sized g-string. Seriously who the hell ever wants to see a fat chick in a g-string? Wrong on so many levels. I used to love myself. 20kg’s ago I loved myself. I’ve always been confident within myself but slowly over the past couple of years that feeling has disappeared. I still portray that attitude. I hope I’m doing it convincingly for the outside world but I’m sure that those closer to me have noticed the difference.
I’m lucky enough to have a partner who loves me no matter what I look like but because of the way I feel about myself our sex life has taken a dive and that’s certainly something he’s noticed. I hate it when he touches me because I feel like he must be disgusted by me and if he doesn’t touch me then of course it must be because I’m disgusting and he couldn’t possibly be attracted to me. Any wild positions have gone out the window. Even me on top doesn’t happen anymore a) because I feel like I’m going to squash him and b) Because I feel keep imagining how I must look doing that. I keep flashing back to those cards I used to see in the novelty shops of the fat chicks in their underwear. You know the kind you give someone for a joke? I remember seeing those as a teenager and saying to my Mum ‘If I ever look like that, kill me. How could anyone let themselves get that fat?’. Well now I know. Slowly but surely, it’s not that hard to do. Especially when you’ve been fat your whole life anyway. And even more so when your weight has never really affected you in a negative way. It’s very easy to not see what you’re doing to yourself until it’s too late.
There’s a few obesity myths to dispel. Not every obese person sits on the couch eating junk food all day every day. Not every obese person struggles to walk up the stairs or to the clothesline. Not every obese person is lazy. Do I eat too much? Yes. Do I exercise too little? Absolutely but am I lazy? Far from it. I weigh 146kg and the last time I did a full hour-long aerobics class was 4 weeks ago. About two months ago I swam 20 laps of our local pool without any trouble and while I don’t claim be stupid enough to proclaim myself fit, I can say without a doubt that anyone who passed me on the street without knowing me sure wouldn’t expect me to be able to do those things.
Despite the good stuff, I don’t feel like I used to. I don’t love myself like I used to. I’m angry with myself for allowing myself to get to this point. I know exactly what I need to do about it but I swing from feeling motivated to falling in a heap and not wanting to bother. It’s a horrible yo-yo of feelings.
The cancer freak out has been worse than ever and I hate it. I hate being pessimistic. I used to be so positive about everything but I feel like I’m spiralling down into a big pool of negative vomit and I can’t get back up again. It’s not like this every day thank God but then I have days like today when all I want to do is cry and wallow in self-pity but I’ve got no-one to blame but myself.
Tonight when I was getting dressed after my shower I decided to put on the underwear that came with my lingerie set because I was feeling a that way inclined. I regretted it almost immediately. There was a fleeting moment when I forgot what I must look like. I like the way the lace feels all risqué against my butt but the minute I sat back down on the couch to finish watching a movie before bed and my stomach threatened to fall out over the top, it was all over.
So now I’m sitting here in supposedly sexy underwear with my stomach still threatening to spill over the top and the only thing I’m inspired to do is write this blog post about how uninspired I’m feeling. Ironic?