Wednesday, February 18, 2009

I don't want your sympathy, I want your donuts

I am fat, and I am tired.

Am I tired of being fat? Obviously not, or I would be doing something about it. I am looking for some sort of catharsis, something to make me feel better about life. I was told blogging would help. We'll see.

You see, (for you skinny or in shape people) the problem is that when you are fat, you don't want to do anything, and when you don't do anything, you get fat. You have no energy because you are fat and out of shape, and because you are fat and out of shape you don't exercise, which is the one thing that would give you energy. If you had the energy, you would exercise and you wouldn't be fat. It is a vicious cream filled circle that most of us can't get out of.

I look in the mirror these days and I don't recognize who is looking back. I don't look like this do I? How did I let this happen? I am angry, sad, frustrated, disappointed, and embarrassed. Can't find one positive emotion in that group can you.

For me there are always "voices" in my head, my conscience if you like, and they all have something to say. Mr. Denial always says something like "well, you are who you are and people should accept you for who you are." "Your friends don't care what you look like, they like you for who you are." And my all time favorite "your wife and family love you, and they accept you for who you are, so you should to." Mr. Denial seems to run the roost, but there is also Mr. Angry, who says "F*%k them. If they are going to judge you on your weight and how you look then they can kiss your big fat ass!" Mr. Angry seems to be Mr. Denial's right hand man. They make a convincing team.

Of course there is also Mr. Sorry, "Well, this is who you are, you haven't done anything wrong, it is just who you are. You should just accept it." His twin brother Mr. Pathetic usually says something like "Don't let it bother you. People love you and that is all you really need." Sorry and pathetic indeed. All of these voices are a huge influence on me. They keep me happy, they make sure I feel o.k. about myself, and most importantly they keep me from doing anything about being fat. Their arguments are convincing, if you listen to them (and I do).

The problem is that there is another voice, one that haunts me. One that is always there, in the back of my mind, quietly getting through. I always hear it; I try to ignore it, but I can't. It's the voice that hurts the most, the one that makes me wear a shirt in the pool when I swim with my kids ( hell who am I kidding, I haven't taken my shirt off in public since 1993 - we'll come back to that another time), the one who kept me from attending my 20th high school reunion, the one who keeps me from visiting relatives and friends I haven't seen in ages.

I don't know the voices name but I hate him. I hate him because he is right and I don't listen. "This is not you." it says, "you were a God damn United States Marine, now look at you! You are a f*%&ing disgrace! If your Drill Instructors saw you now, if your fellow Marines saw you now... you have always been a f*%&ing embarrassment. You should be ashamed of yourself, you sorry sack of s&%t. All your life you have had to deal with this, and all your life you have wimped out, only done what you had to do, now look at you. Proud of yourself? Your own daughter thinks you are fat, and what do you do? You laugh it off, tell her your belly is full of love, not fat. Your belly is full of Ding Dongs and ice cream, your ass is full of pasta, and your waste is full of Captain Crunch, cheeseburgers, and Coke. You are fat, you have always been fat, and the most pathetic and sad thing is is that you aren't doing a damn thing to change that. Keep listening to those other voices you fat f&%k. You won't have to listen to me when you are dead at 50 from a heart attack."

I f*%king hate him. I hate him because he is right. I hate him because he is right and I don't listen. I should listen. I should change, but I don't. I just swallow the hurt, wash it down with a Twinkie or two and a gallon of Mountain Dew, and go on listening to all the other voices. They are much easier to listen to. They like me just like I am.

So, after all of that, what am I going to do about being fat?

Probably nothing.


Because I am fat, and I am tired, and it is a vicious raspberry filled, powdered sugar coated circle.

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