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.