Now that I have your attention, let's talk about my weight. What? I hear you booing. Don't boo me, I have a stun gun and repressed childhood memories.
Often times, questions hit me: Why is 'red' the color of original-flavored Skittles? Why is that RPG from Ehrgeiz surprisingly entertaining? Why does Atreyu not go around the Swamps of Sadness, given that swamps cannot meet an ocean, and even if they could, the shore would not have the swamp's texture? But this is about dieting, not swamps.
Hello, my lovelies, and I am here to spout my thoughts at random, devoid of a script. I'm just cool like that. As I see my weight creep to that 260lbs mark, I wonder: Where is that skinny girl I was in high school? Is she dead? Back in the day, I was not different than I am now. I was bulimic. I've always had an unhealthy appetite, but my metabolism and condition prevented it from showing way back when. Bulimia is complex, and strange to experience. You'll want so much not to eat, and then rush out to eat more than what is advised for grown adults in an entire day. Only to, in my case and most others, 'purge' it. What an interesting word to use, as if the necessary foods we ingest are a sin. There's another tricky word I'm not keen on buying the concept of: Sin. I had a lot of problems in my teens: I suffered through a bad family, I was socially awkward and had few friends due to my accent/lack of English comprehension, and could barely keep food down. I was an absolute mess, amazing what life can do to you.
What's also amazing: a sweet Italian-descended girl comes along, quirky and insanely fun-loving, to show you the light. I avoid talking about my partner, Alice (Alex, as I sometimes call her), like an elephant in the room. Who is she? Why did we click? What's the dealio? She's weird, I can safely say. She was in a bunch of art-related after-school programs and didn't relate at all to the popular crowd. She was a culinary mastermind and quickly got into a school that trained her to be a proper chef. We met at lunch time, during an event so cliche: you'd think Stephenie Meyer wrote it. She knew about my condition because everyone did, felt pity on me, and tried talking to me. She was friendly and sweet, very much the sort who seeks 'damaged people' to fix. We talked, and talked, and talked, until my homosexuality came up, something that caused me an immense amount of grief. She admitted to her own bisexuality, comforted me, yaddah yaddah. In no time, we got day jobs and paid our way to getting an apartment, as friends. Life threw its share of hard times on us, as she went to college and we struggled to support ourselves and we bonded. It was at that point we realized we already loved each other. I often say we've been together for seven years, and that's not entirely true. We've been together more like four. But, we tend to acknowledge that ever since we properly met, that spark existed. We knew something funny chemically happened between us.
What does this have to do with my weight? Alice is a cook, and she practices cooking all the time, making all kinds of unnecessary dishes. I love her cooking and think it's divine. Back when I was bulimic and we moved in together, she made all the food, and I could not bring myself to 'purge' it. Her food mattered too much, it would be disrespectful not to accept it. So, she essentially cured my bulimia in this regard. My appetite flourished, leading me to my oh-so-ample weight today. Not that she's upset. The weirdo that she is kind of makes her enjoy my size, as I share a similar mindset. Despite my doctor's protests, I couldn't be happier with myself at a size that would have once mortified me. In fact, most people see it as a terrible negative to be fat and for some rational reasons. My health is pretty great now, but in ten years? What if I gain a lot more weight? It's practically inevitable given my current diet. I, in all of my glorious youth, don't care. I love to eat, I love myself, and I love my partner, who loves to cook. Sounds good to me. My philosophy is one of embracing what makes you happy, even if that might mean an early grave. I'm not the smartest person, or the most respectable, but I am happy to be me, no matter how weird or not socially acceptable. How fat am I going to get? Will I ever diet like a sane person? I don't know, I can't see myself differing too much in the coming years. Alice apparently likes bigger girls, quite a lot, so I'm not at risk of sabotaging our relationship. All is well, in my strange, strange life. I'm simply grateful we made the jump to move in together, to build a life and try. I view our dynamic as somewhat endearing.
There, I'll end the rambling. I wanted to throw out some of my thoughts. Not really too concerned if people care. :P