My little black dress with the embroidered rosebuds and the red petticoat is officially too small for me. This is a tragedy. It probably means my space dress is too small too.
So I gotta diet. I hate dieting. Not because I love eating burgers and cheetos so much that it is miserable without them. I actually love healthy food. I hate preparing it. I am a good cook but shopping and cooking and cleaning up after a family of four, two of whom have special diets is a pain in the ass. And now add ANOTHER special diet? This Kale isn't going to roast itself!
The problem is, I am good at stuff. No, bear with me. I am GOOD AT MOST STUFF. Except dieting. I am shit at dieting. I have not had a 6 month period since I was 12 that I was not on some sort of diet. I am an EXPERT at dieting yet I still fail. There is so much PTSD around it that I decided to just be fat and happy. But not if it means that my pretty dresses don't fit.
It's ridiculous that a grown adult has so much trauma surrounding such a simple subject. Calories in = Calories out. 3500 calories equals one pound. Cut your calories by 500 a day and you'll lose a pound a week. Low Carb, Low Fat, Liquid Diet, Vegetarian, Blood Type diet, Scarsdale Diet, Jenny Craig, Nutrisystem, Optifast, Medifast, Lap Band, Gastric Bypass surgery, "Mediterranean Diet". The list goes on. I have failed at all these things. All the people who say "oh Sharon is so talented yadda yadda". Sure. I can crochet but I can't handle simple math.
The other day I went to the dietician and I asked her if she was ever fat. She says "no". How can you be an expert on dieting if you've never dieted? I ask her for advice, she puts my weight into a FORMULA. THAT IS PROBABLY IN EXCEL. Guess what she comes up with? Reduce your calories by 500 a day and increase your excercise. WTF? THAT WAS THE SECRET ALL ALONG? HOLY SHIT!!!!! I WISH SOMEONE HAD TOLD ME THAT IN FUCKING 1982!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyway, so I decided maybe being fat is just a thing that I am going to be. Maybe I need to just move along and accept myself and try to "decide I'm beautiful the way I am". I've been working on that but FUCK. MY PRETTY DRESSES. This is NOT OK. I DON'T NEED ANOTHER DIET, I NEED THERAPY.
Not putting this on Facebook because concern trolls. Please don't concern troll me. My health is fine. I have great blood pressure (120/70) and blood sugar and my cholesterol and tryglicerides and all that other shit they test you for is FINE. I can even most of the time walk up stairs without getting winded. But seriously? I am carrying an extra 100 pounds. I should get to be winded when I heft that up the stairs.