You know one of the realisations I have come to in regards to being overweight? It’s not so much that your joints hurt a lot, or that it hurts to breathe when you are exercising, because let’s face it, you are the most unfit person in the world – no it’s not any of that. It’s the pain of sitting at work in your chair, and making a tiny move on said chair, and the whole bloody thing squeaks to high heaven. And the lovely skinny girl that sits next to you (who I’m sure can eat a whole block of chocolate without putting on an ounce) could probably jump up on her chair and do a belly dance (if she had a belly that is) and the chair wouldn’t make a sound. Yes my friends, THAT is pain. The emotional pain of being overweight, I’m sure for me, outweighs the actual physical pain that accompanies holding those extra kilos close to my heart.
I long to be that skinny girl. The girl who can jump up on the chair and do a belly dance, who can get through a whole day at work, without being so damn tired she looks like she is about to collapse, the girl who can wear the nice pants and shirt and look the part. So why do I sabotage myself all the time, and how do I stop myself? Hmm questions to ponder.