Sugar Sugar How'd You Get So......Fat?

Let me preface this by saying the term fat is relative. Your fat is not the same as my fat and not all fat is bad fat.  It really comes down to how personal you want to take it. I myself, do not think of myself in my head as fat. I see myself in way that is probably a bit too idealistic and then I get slapped in the face by an image staring back at me from the mirror.

Who the fuck is this? I’m you.Me? What the fuck happened to me?!Cookies happened.Cake happened.Candy happened. Fries happened.

Ok,ok.I get it. Somehow I managed to take all the weight I lost from last two years and compile back onto my body at a staggering speed. My ass flows into my thighs without separation. My stomach is so loose I could probably smack someone in the face with it. How could I let myself get back here? I ignored my ever-expanding waistline and inflating body parts in expert fashion, I shut down the little moderator in my head that tells me, do not eat that.

How am I supposed to lose this weight? The word exercise feels foreign to me.  It feels impossible to me, an insurmountable task. Do you know how much exercising it would take to lose 20+lbs? A lot of fucking exercise. I don’t know where to start. My body will revolt. Muscle will seize and bones will ache. My entire body as a collective whole will give me the middle finger because the exhaustion will inevitably hit me the day after. My body has very little get up and go, so when it’s goes….it’s gone and it’s gone for a while. My energy reserves do not re-up at a normal pace and so I shudder at thought of cardio. I blame on my autoimmune issues but I mostly blame it on the obese woman that lives inside of me, eating away her idle time.

How bad do I want this? How hard can I push myself? Why the fuck didn’t I get more enjoyment out of being thin while I had the chance?

Here’s the clincher….will power is required in order to get in shape. Will power does not exist in my house. If there is a sweet in this house, it calls to me and I listen to it’s siren song. I let it pull me in, while I put it in my overfed face. Nothing is off limits. Cookies baked specifically for a holiday party? Not in my house. Yogurt covered fruit snacks for the kids’ lunches? Uh-uh, Mama goes there too. It is the shameful truth. My house would need to be stripped of all things tempting and still then I’ll have to deal with the wrath of my sweet tooth gone unsatisfied. This is where the term hangry must have its origins. I could knock a grown man out cold when the hangrosity takes over.

I’ve already determined that I would pose a threat to the well being of others, should I ever be chosen to participate in a survival show. It would be a travesty. Carnage, nothing but carnage. God help us all, should I ever survive the zombie apocalypse. Costco better be well stocked before we hunker down.

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