Medically speaking, my body is very average. Right down to my shoe size. However, personally speaking, I'm so confused about my body right now that I don't know what the hell I am. I'm simply uncomfortable.All my pants are too tight. I'm always fidgiting in an effort to conceal my horendous "muffin top." If I eat too much my gut becomes uncontrollable and I walk around like I'm 6 months pregnant. Seriously. I'm enjoying my larger butt (not so much the new cellulite but whatever). And as for my mellons (my new word for "breasts"), I'm still not sure if they're just decievingly large or really just that huge. Either way, I got no complaints when it comes to their size. I'm still quite boney (thanks to my genes), with my rather stick-like arms and legs. Although, my theighs are starting to worry me.
But I'll explain my latest weight issues chronologically so you can understand why I'm bothering to blog about them (as if I need an explaination)...
About a month ago when I went to the OBGYN aka. vagina doctor, I weighed 136 lbs (my ideal weight is closer to 120 lbs by the way). But like always, when I expressed my displeasure and how I believed it had to do with the birth control I was taking, the doctor whipped out her weight chart and assured me that the average weight for a 20 year old girl who is 5'5 is anywhere between 118-145 lbs.
The next day I checked out the ingredients and side effects of the birth control I was taking...sure enough the first side effect listed: weight gain. I knew I hadn't been eating nearly enough to justify me being this heavy. Needless to say, I've switched to a new birth control.
A few weeks later, I weighed myself on my friend's scale which told me that I was 142 lbs. I convinced myself it was probably just a crappy/evil scale and that I was carrying some water-weight due to my period.
Then this past Sunday, I went to go buy a slimming undergarment to wear with my new dress for the Best of Style party. It's pretty tight and shows all my nooks and crannies. I took my clothes off and looked in the mirror and was absolutely horrified. I've never been more disguised with my body as I was those few minutes. I actually gasped and immediately started crying then got the hell out of there.
Today, I went to a different store with a different dressing room with a different mirror and different lighting to finally get a damn "body control" suit/corset/granny panty thingy. Luckily, I wasn't brought to tears this time. I got what I needed (a contraption that looks like biker shorts that extent up to my boobs). Oddly enough, I also needed to get a bathing suit to wear this weekend down the shore. I'm definitely not down for prancing around in a bikini but that's all I could find. As I was trying them on, I didn't really feel that fat (just frustrated that I had to get bottoms that were a size 4 and a top that was a size 12). I ended up getting a cheap black one that I can easily wear something over.
So anyway, that's the series of events that have led me to this. One moment I'm crying in a dressing room or crying inside because I know my gut is showing through my shirt and the next moment, I'm walking around my house half naked because I just don't give a fuck. Even though I'm bitiching about my weight, I haven't once considered going on a diet or starting to exercise. I'm not going to start freaking out about how many calories all my food has. Its a waste of time and energy. Quite frankly, I rather just take more Adderall and starve. I know that sounds horrible but I'm being honest. Just don't tell my doctor. Or my mom.
I'm trying to enjoy my summer. That means going out to eat and not trying to spend the little free time I do have going to the gym. Screw that. I'm actually kind of proud of my womanly figure. I've gotten over my obsession with making sure I look good in a bikini, probably because I'm rarely in one anymore. I'm not 12 years old, it's about time I embrace my insecurities...stretch marks, cellulite, pimples, scars, patch of hair I always miss when shaving, ect. Yea, that's right, I'm gross and it's only going to get worse.
But I'm sure I'll feel differenly in a few days when I'm in that measly piece of fabric known as a bathing suit, debating if I should take my tank top off. I probably wont be so fat and jolly then. If only there was something you could tan in that completly covers your body...
Today, I went to a different store with a different dressing room with a different mirror and different lighting to finally get a damn "body control" suit/corset/granny panty thingy. Luckily, I wasn't brought to tears this time. I got what I needed (a contraption that looks like biker shorts that extent up to my boobs). Oddly enough, I also needed to get a bathing suit to wear this weekend down the shore. I'm definitely not down for prancing around in a bikini but that's all I could find. As I was trying them on, I didn't really feel that fat (just frustrated that I had to get bottoms that were a size 4 and a top that was a size 12). I ended up getting a cheap black one that I can easily wear something over.
So anyway, that's the series of events that have led me to this. One moment I'm crying in a dressing room or crying inside because I know my gut is showing through my shirt and the next moment, I'm walking around my house half naked because I just don't give a fuck. Even though I'm bitiching about my weight, I haven't once considered going on a diet or starting to exercise. I'm not going to start freaking out about how many calories all my food has. Its a waste of time and energy. Quite frankly, I rather just take more Adderall and starve. I know that sounds horrible but I'm being honest. Just don't tell my doctor. Or my mom.
I'm trying to enjoy my summer. That means going out to eat and not trying to spend the little free time I do have going to the gym. Screw that. I'm actually kind of proud of my womanly figure. I've gotten over my obsession with making sure I look good in a bikini, probably because I'm rarely in one anymore. I'm not 12 years old, it's about time I embrace my insecurities...stretch marks, cellulite, pimples, scars, patch of hair I always miss when shaving, ect. Yea, that's right, I'm gross and it's only going to get worse.
But I'm sure I'll feel differenly in a few days when I'm in that measly piece of fabric known as a bathing suit, debating if I should take my tank top off. I probably wont be so fat and jolly then. If only there was something you could tan in that completly covers your body...
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