Pizza

The smell and the sight of pizza is literally enough to drive me MAD! By far, that has been THE hardest sacrifice to make on this damn diet. Second to that would be any sort of pasta or dish made with spaghetti/marinara sauce. Sometimes I truly feel that in order for me to survive this challenge, I cannot even be around certain foods. Sad, huh? One minute I'm feeling satisfied on whatever rabbit food or protein pack I just ate and then the smell of pizza as I'm walking by the deli at the grocery store will make me want to hop over the counter and start devouring the whole damn thing like a rabid animal. It's always at that moment that I hear Skinny Andrea say to Fat Andrea, 'It's effin' FOOD! Why do you think you're such a fat ass and why do you think you now have to be on this RIDICULOUS starvation diet? Cut it out!'...then Fat Andrea says to Skinny Andrea, 'Because it's really good...and I miss it...and it makes me feel sad when I think that I can't have it'. It amazes me that I have somehow allowed FOOD to control my emotions. As if PIZZA could really make someone happy? At some point I must have mistaken food for happiness and now, not being able to have some of those comfort foods is pretty hard to take.

Although I don't have many memories of my childhood, I pretty vividly remember always being overweight and always being teased by someone for it and always finding some sort of comfort in a sweet treat or salty snack. I think I was too young though to fully understand that it was a vicious cycle...and that the more I ate, the fatter I got...and the fatter I got, the more I would be teased. I think that's why, even today, feeling bad about myself doesn't motivate me to stop eating or to work harder at losing weight. It makes me want to give up and say screw it.

Aside from food, my other coping mechanism my entire life has been humor. When you're sad or mad or hurt or embarrassed...make a joke, break into hysterical laughter...do anything you can, but cry. Then go home and eat a sundae. People get mad at me all the time for making fun of myself or for cracking fat jokes. You know why people like me do that? To beat others to the punch. If I make a joke about being fat before someone else is given a chance to, it seems to deter them from saying or doing something that will ultimately make me feel a THOUSAND times worse. I would rather make fun of myself than to have someone else do it for me. If I do it, I often make others laugh. If they do it, the feelings of hurt and embarrassment are sometimes so overwhelming that I can fall into a full blown panic attack. And that sucks. So until I'm skinny...or heck, even just average...I will ALWAYS make fun of myself. It is truly the lesser of two evils in my world.

I have no idea why, but the other day I had a series of CRAZY flashbacks of things that happened to me throughout my life that were weight related. Embarrassing situations that I will NEVER forget and sometimes are the only things I can seem to willingly remember at certain ages. When I was in 6th grade there were two girls a year younger than me who rode the same bus. They were considered part of the 'popular' crowd in their class. One afternoon we got off the bus and they walked about 10 feet behind me all the way home. From the minute the doors of the bus closed to when I finally reached my driveway, they followed me...and I was forced to listen to their running commentary which was, you guessed it, all about me. 'Awww Andrea looks so SAD today...she's so fat she must not have any FRIENDS...do you need a friend Andrea? Just call 1-800-FRIENDS!' It went on and on...and on. 4th and 5th grades were probably the worst though. My parents put us in a public school for almost 2 years, after having been in a private school, and there was definitely an increase in the onslaught of references to my weight. In 4th grade several boys in the class were placing bets on who could 'lift Andrea'. They tried to get me to participate to 'prove' their strength, but luckily the teacher came back before anything could happen. In 5th grade we had those 'Slam Books' going around...remember those? I can't tell you how many times my name appeared at the top of the lists for the ugliest girl, or the fattest kid. I'm pretty sure my self esteem took some hits back then too. Halfway through 6th grade I think is when my parents put me back in a private school due to how miserable I was. At first things seemed to be going really well...I started making some friends and felt pretty good. Of course things didn't stay that way for long. A couple of girls befriended me right off the bat and I remember being SO happy about that. A few weeks later I found out that they had been best friends before I came but had gotten into an argument. They had been gloating to each other about who could become friends with the 'new girl' the fastest...but as soon as they made up, I was pretty much kicked to the curb. They didn't come right out and say it, but one of them especially would make fun of my clothes and often said things about my appearance that I didn't fully believe was her being 'mean' until later on. In 7th grade there was a boy in my class who was really funny and kind of cute. I don't think I ever thought much about him though, because he was a popular kid and why would a fat girl think she could ever get a boy? One day I found a note in my desk that he had written. It said that he liked me and he wanted us to go out sometime and blah, blah, blah. Of course I wrote him back and said I liked him too. I had NO idea that he and the rest of his 'crowd' had come up with this as a joke. The next day they were all passing MY letter around and laughing at how stupid I was for believing that HE could like a FAT girl.

I could go on and on with the stories, but do any of us really have that kind of time? I think not! Do I need therapy for this stuff? Nah, this blog can be my 'therapy' and honestly...it's stuff I NEVER think about anymore...until now, when I'm full engaged in trying to do something about the weight. Sure, I have a lot of harsh memories of my past and I really wish most of those things had never happened, but they did and it is what it is. If I could erase what little I have of a memory of those years I certainly would...but I can't. Maybe when my chub goes my memories will too? HA! Probably not. I think my only concern regarding my weight and the things that happened to me so many years ago, is that they are things my children will go through. I cannot tell you how much I fear Lili or Will feeling that same hurt and embarrassment that I felt growing up. I KNOW all kids go through times where they will experience those feelings, but I hope that it is not to the extent that I did. Thinking about Lili being the one taunted for being overweight can make me burst into tears in a second. THAT is the negative impact that my experiences have had on my life as an adult, wife and mother.