oink

Tonight was a rude awakening. Very rude. I had to squeeze through the shower door to get into the shower. At first it did not seem real. I thought it was not possible for me to be too big to fit through the door. How could it be? Clearly something was wrong and it wasn’t me. Wrong. It was me. I tried getting into the shower in every possible angle and manner only to discover that I am simply fat. No jokes about it. Not big-boned. Not baby weight. Not chubby. But simply fat. It was very similar to the opening of Kirstie Alley’s “Fat Actress” where she weighs herself and has a nervous breakdown on the scale. Very similar indeed.

In all honesty this is the biggest I have ever been. I haven’t weighed myself yet. I have to first either work up a great deal of courage or be really, really, really drunk. I know this is the biggest I have ever been because I can feel it. I can feel the weight like never before. All my clothes don’t fit. Breathing makes me sweat. I look terrible. I have always been big, but since my mom’s death my weight has truly has spun out of control. The curse of being an emotional eater. I promised my mom that I would try to lose weight. I am not even failing because I have not tried at all. Always tomorrow. Well, the problem with that is that today adds up. It adds up quickly when you gain everyday.

The other night I was tagging along with a couple of friends who were clothes shopping. I hate clothes shopping. Most fat people do. They are skinny guys…so of course everything they picked up would fit perfectly. I don’t think that has ever happened to me. I remember shopping for Husky Jeans in the fourth grade. Husky. A polite way of saying fat, I guess. Later that night a tiny car passed by us. A smurf mobile of sorts. I looked at the car and made a joke about needing the jaws of life to get me out of it. My friend looked at me and said “I know a guy who is seriously bigger than you and he has a car like that.” Seriously bigger than you. Seriously bigger than you. Seriously bigger than you. What am I? The eighth world wonder. I am now a tool of measurement and comparison for other fat people in the world. Seriously bigger than me. Ugh. This is the same friend that years ago called me one night while he was drunk to let me know that I was fat. Thanks. I had not noticed. Note to self: You are fat. Got it. Point taken. I am fat. Glad that I was woken up out of a deep sleep for that newsflash. Funny how moments like that stay with one for many years. He doesn’t remember it. Probably because he was drunk, I would imagine. But, I remember it vividly…probably because I was sober and very insulted. Anyways…I don’t think I will go shopping with them again. Ever.

I brushed my teeth. I have this weird thing where I won’t eat after I brush my teeth before bed. I have to go to bed with clean teeth and I am too lazy to brush them again. Insane. I know. But, it is true. I have gone to bed starving because I had already brushed my teeth. I think I will brush my teeth all day tomorrow so I won’t eat. Lord knows I don’t have any self control.

I don’t understand fully why I have never been able to get a grasp on my weight. So many other aspects of my life I simply make up my mind and that is that. But with my weight it is a whole other story.

In all honesty, as ridiculous as it sounds, I am kind of scared to be thin. I think I hide behind my weight a great deal. It is easier to be the fat guy on the sidelines than the skinny guy in the center of the field. I also worry about losing myself with the loss of weight. For as long as I can remember, I have been overweight. It is all I know. Everything else is foreign to me. Bizarre, but true. It is like how people freak out about changing their hair color; well imagine changing your entire body.

I am going to bed. If the phone rings I am not answering it. I already know I am fat. He can leave a message.