So fat, I don't even like to look at myself in the mirror anymore. So fat that I have a hard time imagining that anyone would want to touch me, much less kiss me or seriously consider dating me. So fat that I don't even like going out much anymore. You can put lipstick on a pig, but...Anyway, the bottom line is that I am so fat that I am no longer cute. And, as each year passes, I feel like I've lost another battle. I'm going to go through my lifetime chronogoly, with snippets of soul-crushing experiences that have made me who I am today: fat and with a very poor body image and poor outlook on my health. Even my family (especially my family) feels as though I've given up. I probably have. I was relatively thin (size 12-14) when I moved to Minneaolis, and then somewhat slimmer when I moved to Minot. And then it was a free-for-alll.
The long and the short of it is this: I've lost the war. And it's time to wage one of my own. Wiht a ltitle luck and some as yet to be uncovered serious medical concerns, I should be a shoo-in. I may have a chance to control my own destiny and, by using this blog as its intended purpose, I'll chronologically go through the mini-mmovie films of my past that play on a almost-continuously loop day in and day out.
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