January 8, 2010 at 9:03 am
So, last week I split my pants.
Thankfully I was at home, and the only person who saw a flash of my clean white undies was my roommate (and possibly the two cats). Regardless of what we ultimately blame for this incident, be it the textile industry or the size of my ass, one cannot ignore that this is a stereotypically fat-person thing to do. I may as well have sat on a chair which collapsed beneath me. As I mentioned on Wednesday, I clearly need help.
If my life were an episode of that old VH1 series, “Behind the Music,” this moment in my life would be the time when I hit rock bottom after spiraling downward in a heroin and cocaine fueled whirlwind, only I used ice cream and chocolate instead. For those of you just entering the story, I developed a chronic headache two years ago that really f*$%ed me up. It changed the way I thought about food, making me see it more as a coping mechanism than I ever had before.
August 8, 2008 at 8:05 am
It has been so nice not weighing in publicly this month, not updating my sidebar, not having to explain any loss or gain to the masses. I still weigh myself every day in the morning (after I’ve gone to the bathroom and before I’ve eaten my oatmeal to ensure the lowest number). I still keep my fancy charts and spreadsheets. But it’s been nice moving those numbers into the “Thou-shall-not-blog-about” category.
I have however been slightly worried about accountability. When I went to San Francisco for the BlogHer convention I told myself, “Eat whatever you want to!” which my brain interpreted as “Gorge yourself!” I tripped a mental switch that made me think I could eat whatever I wanted to as long as I was in California. I found myself wandering around the airport before my midnight flight looking for an ice cream stand because if I had a cone in the west coast terminal it would be ok, but if I stopped for one in Indianapolis it would somehow be “wrong.” The next time [...]