You know, until I was like 20, I didn't know I had a weight problem. Don't get me wrong, I've always been fat, and I knew that. But I didn't really see it as a "problem", per se. Sure it sucked growing up fat, being called Fatty Patty (which to this day is why I won't even answer to Patty) and having no boyfriends in high school and missing out on just regular teenage stuff, but I just dealt with it as part of my life and moved on.
I never dieted. I ate what I wanted. My mom catered to my pickiness and let me get away with french fries as a primary vegetable. My dad tried to make me eat green beans once which ended in a plate of vomit, so that was the end of that. My life was chips and fried chicken and all the candy I could get my grubby mitts on. And I loved it.
I remember my mom taking me to a doctor once when I was like 8. I don't remember what I weighed, but I remember it was enough to make the doctor say "Oh honey. That's more than me!" Pfft. So? Skinny bitches always showing off! Anyway, my mom said that all her kids were fat, then they balanced out when they got older, which was a lie because my 14-year-old brother was still a tub at that time. Maybe she was just embarrassed about how big I was...I dunno. I remember leaving there and riding home with her in total silence and praying that she wasn't gonna do something drastic like put me on a diet. I really prayed for that.
She never mentioned it again. Maybe because putting me on a diet meant she'd have to be on one too and she didn't want that any more than I did. Of course, in hindsight, I wish she'd been more strict. Maybe she'd still be alive and I wouldn't be 400 freaking pounds.
Moving on, my first diet was at the age of 20. I was working at Bank One and me and some coworkers decided to try Atkins. Over the course of the next year, I lost 80 pounds. But this was my meal plan:
3pm snack: One bag of Hot n Spicy Pork Rinds and a 20oz Diet Dr Pepper
Dinner: 40 chicken wings OR 1 pound of sliced brisket OR 1 whole rotisserie chicken
The only vegetable I ate was pickles. Lots of em.
But I was losing weight, so I still thought I was being pretty healthy. Once I lost some weight, oddly enough, I started making pals. The diet took a backseat to nights spent in bars drinking sugary shots and 3am pancake breakfasts. Needless to say, the weight started coming back. I gained 100 pounds over the next year. Suddenly I was fatter than ever and friendless again. Depressed. I tried several times over the next few months to get back on the Atkins bandwagon, but I always failed. I just didn't wanna do it anymore.
So I gave up on dieting again. I was back to being fat and "okay" with it. I met a guy and he was nice to me even though I was huge. What a concept.
Then I met his mom. She taught me about Weight Watchers and was really supportive of me getting healthy. With her help, I lost about 50 pounds. I don't even remember why I stopped, but of course I gained it all back plus more. Noticing a trend here? Since then, I've tried unsuccessfully to get back on plan. Promising Monday mornings that lead to disappointing Monday nights. I know it CAN work, it's just like...fuck...I don't wanna do it.
So now I'm here. Part of me is like "WW is a sensible plan, just do it." and the other part of me is like "Fuck points, dude." Ideally, I know that if I eat less and move more, I will probably lose weight. Do I need to count every calorie, every gram of fat? Probably. Because I lack a little something doctors like to call "self-control."
I gotta do something. Wild ideas run through my mind ranging from "only eat fruit for dinner!" to "wire your jaw shut!" I remember that Twilight Zone episode where the fat lady had special glasses made that makes all the food she's about to eat come to life and scream in terrified little voices "pleeeeeeeease don't eaaaaaaaat meeeee!" Where can I get those glasses?
This is long. I am fat. Need to diet. The end.