Is Fat Better Than Flab?

Guys, I’m scared to lose weight.

So my weight loss goals go unachieved every single year. I might drop some weight, but I haven’t lost any significant weight since 2009. There’s a myriad of reasons for it, including a binge eating habit and a lack of activity being up there at the top of reasons I struggle with my weight, but there’s a bigger reason that no one really understands until they’re looking down the barrel of it…


This picture comes from an article about a woman that lost 110 lbs. This is what her body looked like afterward… just extra skin everywhere. She tried to exercise it away to no avail, and finally she had to have four surgeries to remove 10 lbs of skin. The end product is still not what she thought she’d get, but it’s better. (Click to read the whole article, it’s great.)


So… Doing the math… if I were to lose the 125 lbs that I want to lose, this is my future. I’d also like to point out that she had breast augmentation to get those boobs back. She lost all her boobs, as you can see in the previous picture. So, I’ll be flabby and flat-chested, instead of fat with boobs.


No one told me, growing up, that this could happen. I was always kind of a fat kid. I could have been a thin teenager and maybe I wouldn’t have become a fat adult until way later in life. It’s only recently that I’ve been made aware that this is my impending reality if I ever get my shit together. I was always told that my skin, being young as it is, would snap back into place. Now, I’m on the wrong side of 25, and it’s officially too late to go back.

Do I still want to lose weight? Yes. Of course I do. I’d love to not be fat, but I don’t really know if I’m more upset by the idea of being fat my entire life, or losing weight just to end up with miles of skin covered in stretch marks that will never fade, that someone will probably have to CUT off of my person. I mean, neither is particularly appealing.

I thought of this, not just because I read the article, but because I’m looking to start hiking this year… Which I hate and don’t want to do, but I said I would do it, so I’m going to do it… But if you couple my diet plans with hiking, I should lose weight… Which is great! Except that I’m terrified out of my mind to end up a pile of skin. I don’t think I could deal with that, mentally. I think I’d wake up one morning and just kill myself, because if you can’t be happy being thinner, then what the fuck is going to make you happy?

I know it sounds overdramatic…. and I’d have to actually a substantial amount of weight before skin would be a problem for me… but… I dunno. It just makes losing weight seem so pointless.

Not to mention all the fat people that lose weight and then die of heart problems… Momma Cass didn’t die from choking on a sandwich. She lot a ton of weight, was really healthy for once in her life, and her heart gave out. John Pinette did the same thing more recently.

It just feels… so fucking pointless to try and get my shit together…  Flab. Death. That feeling of perpetual unhappiness even when you achieve you life goals, because life is really quite meaningless and we’re all just killing time and distracting ourselves from death….

I think I’m having an existential crisis.


How Many Times?

::queue Insane Clown Posse song from my youth that I never admit to liking but secretly know all the words to::

How many times will I restart a diet? How many times will I fail?

In this case… one more time.
So here I go again. I’m not happy about it. I’m not going to get my hopes super up… but I’m going to try. I’m going to try REALLY hard.

I found a website yesterday that showed me how I look now, versus how I COULD look if I reached my ideal weight.

It was a really interesting moment for me.

You see… I’ve never been thin. I’ve been THINNER, but never thin. As far back as I can remember weighing myself, I’ve been 200lbs plus. So unlike some people that were once thing, and then became overweight, I’ve never had a comparison of what I could be. I just have always been me.

This imagine is probably the most inspirational thing I’ve seen in my weight loss journey. It’s defining. It gives a certain amount of tangibility to my journey and what I could accomplish if I really stick to it. It made me sad, though, because I am so far from this goal (135 lbs far, to be exact). Still, seeing it, seeing the end goal, is so much better than anything I could come up with in my head.

If you like this, btw, and would like to see how you would look at goal weight, the website was

Early Resolution Planning

I accomplished none of my 2014 goals… so I’m starting early on 2015 goals.

I’ve decided that I’m not going to worry about my weight.
Weight is a constant battle in my life and it just makes me crazy, so I’ve decided not to worry about it at all, and I’m going to hide my scale from myself. Instead, I’m just going to make some positive health choices and go with that. I’d like to do some strength training, and find a healthy diet plan.

I’m gonna be vegan for a month.
I decided to go vegan for the month of January. It’s a short-term commitment I’m sure I can keep, and it’s a good chance to try and find some healthier things to eat instead of copious amounts of Chipotle… not that Chipotle is bad for you, but I eat A LOT of it, and it’s loaded with sodium. Also… I could still get Sofritas… so… not really bad at all.

I’m gonna fix my damn house.
My house never really recovered from having a live-in boyfriend a few years ago… I’m getting closer to actually having a place to accurately live, but it’s taking time… I hate time… but it’s coming, and I have plans for it.

So there we go. That’s my resolution planning…
Now I must go research meal plans for January.

Let’s Jump Right In

I turned 25 on Halloween, and, well, turning 25 has not been easy on me. At the beginning of October, when I realized my birthday was fast-approaching, I lost my shit about it… because, for whatever reason, I thought I’d have done more with my life by now. In my ideal life, that I created when I was 14 and still full of hope, I was supposed to be married at 24, and I was supposed to start having kids at 26. I was supposed to have a nice sized home, a job I enjoyed and some kind of awesome husband person. Life, as you probably know, doesn’t work out like that, though. So, I looked around at my life and had a weird freak out of a panic attack for a month… I did make some good decisions, though, and some good realizations.

A, I decided to lose 129 lbs. If that sounds like a lot, it’s because it IS a lot. That’s a whole person. It just needs to happen. I’ve been the fat girl my whole life, and I’m sick of it… So I’ve been dieting. I haven’t found something to do for exercise yet… cuz I hate exercise…

2, I realized that I’m NOT doing badly for 25. I own a house, I have a job that can pay a real mortgage, I can support four dogs and a cat, I have a college degree, and even with my irresponsible spending habits, I am never really broke. That’s REALLY good for a 25 year old in this day and age. I have friends still living with parents, making minimum wage, unemployed, never attended college, and incapable of supporting any other living being. If something stupid happened and I got knocked up right now, I could afford an abortion or to take care the infant. I am doing damn well.

and D, I figured out that I can’t really freak out when I never really had goals in the first place. My list of life achievements: high school diploma, college degree, own a home, steady job. I didn’t come up with any of those. They were things that my mom wanted for me and either pushed me to get or got for me. If I were left up to my own devices, I’d probably be homeless just so I didn’t have to work… I am a lazy fuck. I’ve never had a personal goal in my life… so I started small and vain, with my weight loss plan, and I intend on kind of working up from here… Make a bucket list or something…

So, that’s about where I am…
Here are some stories from my 25th year.