FAAAAT

It all started with one comment. I went to the doctor for a blood test.. long story, anyway, the nurse asked me to step on the scale. Normal routine. But when I got on, that old fear crept back as she pushed the weight past 120... past 130... and it landed on 135. I haven't weighed this much in years. Then the comment, "I would have never guess you weighed that much..." says the nurse.

That was a couple of weeks ago.. and I can't get it out of my head.

And now, I've begun noticing things.. my "fat" jeans have become my "actually-fit" jeans, and man, I eat ALL the time... my belly sticks out quite a bit... and I don't even have to push it out anymore to get the pregnant belly effect I always joke about... it's like I have a beer gut...and my boobs are huge!! They are popping out of my 34 C bras....

I just keep thinking about it.. and I find myself ignoring my feelings of hunger... preferring to feel the satisfaction of an empty stomach rather than a full bloated one.

I want so bad to beat this DAMN eating disorder... but it has come down to a choice. Would I rather beat it and be fat or Give in a little and feel comfortable with my weight?

It's like my mom said, "Why would you ever want to weigh over 130lbs?"

Dear _ _ _,

Through song lyrics, TV shows, and situations of those close to my heart there has been declared two themes for the day: Say what you need to say and there are two ways to end this -- to push you out of my life or to go on lying to myself wrapped in your arms. Both lead me to you. Though you will never read this, I can't say what I need to say -- but I have to get it out because it is eating me alive. I haven't slept. I can't. I can't get you out of my head. When I see you, I feel crazy for my emotions. It's as if in the light of day I am nothing more than an ordinary girl. One you have never shared in jagged breaths, one whose skin has never felt the softness of yours. Yet with the night comes tender caresses and feverish kisses. Sighs of lust escape your lips as you whisper of how my touch, my kisses take you further. And then, as if you were lost, distance finds your eyes, your touch, even your kiss.
With my time to leave the comfort of your arms, it is as if I am glass. Each time the passion overcomes our bodies, grooved perfectly together, another crack is formed -- each bigger than the last. I soon shall shatter.
Though reciprocal love has never been my experience to hold, maybe if I love you enough, your love will clasp the hand of mine. Never before have I struggled to remain standing after a kiss from another as I did from our last goodbye. Never has the fingertips of another caused my skin to raise with sensation as it does with your every touch.
Beyond all this, there is more. It frustrates me the time it takes you to answer when questioned, but your time shows just how sincere and real each word is that travels from your head to your lips. Each word has meaning that I have never known words to contain. And when you tell me I am beautiful, I believe those words for the first time. Your words are able to reassure me in ways I have never fathomed possible. I love how you retrieve such passion and inspiration from each novel you digest. Your life takes a new direction with ending each.
If I knew I had even a percentage of a chance in sharing with you my worded heart, this would be on your doorstep. I know better than that. Though i remain the fool.

m

I had quite a scare these past two days.
Let me take to back to a week ago.

Special Olympics, I'm a coach and I am bless to be one. In my fourth year in coaching for S.O. I can't even express how my heart feels all because of my athletes... it's like each athlete that runs to hug me or that is joyful flips a switch in my heart and the light only gets brighter. I coach the wheelchairs this year. Or as I'm told by others, I got "stuck with them". NOPE! I requested them. Most are unable to talk, but boy can they communicate, they just had to learn to do it creatively. Which brings me to Howie. Well, Howie was having a rough day, and when Howie has a rough day he gnaws on things. Hell, I would too if I didn't have any other way to express how I felt. Knowing Howie wasn't doing too well, I bent down to talk to him and before I knew it he had my arm and the only thing I thought was "is he gonna kiss my arm?" Nope. Straight to the teeth it went. I had to laugh, though my arm was still chomped between his teeth, and as I continued laughing, Howie just stared at me, surprised by my reaction. After I successfully riped my arm free people began swarming and freaking out. I was still laughing.
Fast forward to two days ago.
Howie's staff from his group home took my aside to tell me that he has Hepatitis.
I still brushed it off, but after practice I began thinking.. hmmm 'B' or 'C'... 'C' is not curable.. and kills you.... if I have it I've already infected like 6 people... Hoover ate after me... and Betsy and I shared a cigar... .shooot! I made out with Steve-o.
Fast forward again to the deuce nine.
Steve-o, Hoover, Randy Lee, and Hooverita tell me I've turned into some video game zombie killer and freaked me out to the max.
Well, after 2 doctor visits and much more searching for answers, I find out that it was 'B' and that I should be fine.
The most disturbing part of this had nothing to do with me or this disease but a comment made to me.
"You got bit by a retard and caught a disease.. that's what helping people gets you"
There are some many things wrong with that comment.. my heart broke. If i'm gonna die, I'd rather it be in helping.. in serving others who are so full of joy and light if you only give them the chance to be in your lives. That gives your life purpose.. meaning, because you are nothing alone and self-serving.