I’m obese. I am obese, to the extent that my lungs are no longer able to function as it should. I’m obese by observation, looking like an uncomfortable Christmas tree with tinsel and trimmings. However, I'm covered in layers of fat rolling over to the side as grilled cheese sandwiches does as they comfort me. Yes, stare at the intricate designs of stretch marks and abused skin weathering.
I’m obese.
When did it start. It started with whispers of I'm not good enough. I was not pretty enough. My endless tub of ice cream, with a large spoon that raked up all my insecurities and loved me with each frosty melting moment allowed. My large party bag of fries. Yep that too assisted to hear the crunch of their fragile bodies as mine expanded laterally.
For every bit of :…Cake…: That let me know I was worth each slice. For every fizzy drink that let me slurp up those insults on people mouths, judgemental gazes, pointing fingers of “OMG’s” |yes each and every single one of those.|
You liars, you traitors saying we are all equal. It is simply some are more equal than others. Get that right.
I’m tired of your stares,
I’m tired of your words,
I’m tired of watching you in all of your glory.
I am exceptionally tired of knowing how much worth I have but cannot reach my full potential because of each of you eating my dying fat, insecure, hopeless, depressed, suicidal carcass.
Yet you wonder how I came to be this explosive size. I turned to food as your words sizzled through my mind with each and every thigh I threw into the deep fryer. I turned to the pills in my dad's medicine chest as a hope of dying out before having to go to school the following day.
Yes. That was me. You, the school socialites added in the student newspaper that I was a great "big" friend of yours, stating that it was a misunderstanding, a delusion you thought I would hopefully turn away from. You said I was a disappointment as you've given me body fat percentage tests and diet plans and never followed them through.
First things first, I was never you friend. You've made that clear the day you threw me off the cheerleading squad after my audition. You circled my areas of development on my clammy skin, permanent markers traced up my cellulite and down my boisterous curves.
How am I the disappointment? Those body percentage tests were done as a joke to show the entire student body how perfect you are in comparison to me. It was a quarterly thing because Jenna's dad happened to be on the student board.
They all laugh. You all laugh. I laugh to but not for the same reasons. I laugh at the fact that I'm stuck here being 156 kilograms. I laugh at the fact that I've tried those diets you post next to my photo of being caught in a swimming costume as it was compulsory to attend gym class. Seeing that I am obese. A skanky me.
Congratulations though on your achievements. I trust your parents are extraordinarily proud of you guys being the brilliant students you are with the summer ready bods.
Now. Leave me alone. Its just me, myself and my ice cream tub.
You've left me no choice. You've manipulated me, and my peers, those who were friendly were seen as people with a potential obesity disease. Clearly you are not aware that it not something that can be contracted. Thus, get your facts straight.
It is tiring to know that no one wants me due to being obese, no association, no kindness, best one by far no means of going through one single day with anyone staring, whispering or pointing outrightly at me.
