It's Been Too Long, And It's Gonna Get Better

For those of you who have been wondering - "What happened to the Fat Bitch?" I did NOT die! I am just focused on other things up until now.

Whew! I am stoked to be back! Back in October, things weren't going so hot for me, but I am doing a LOT better now! I am now in a new relationship with a new guy who has everything I needed (Everything I ranted about in my last few blogs), I have been OFFICIALLY diagnosed with MDD (Massive Depressive Disorder) and I am now taking meds! WHOOOO! Who'da'thunk that 2 little pills daily could improve my mood so much?

But just because I'm in a better mood doesn't mean I'm any less of a Fat Bitch! <3 

I can still rant about things. I am now delving into my Feminist Side, and right now I am ALL OVER the rape culture in the United States. HOLY SHIT WHAT A TOPIC. 

First off, let's get one things straight... A Woman's Wardrobe does NOT mean she is ASKING TO BE RAPED. Just because I like to wear short skirts and a bodice that nearly shows my bra holding the twins in, doesn't mean I want your nasty lecherous hands all over me or your eyes undressing me, it means that I want to look hot in a nightclub and that I am empowered by being attractive. MY SEXINESS IS FOR ME NOT YOU, ASSHOLE. I am not trying to impress anyone but myself. When I leave my apartment I think; "Damn, I look HOT." And I wish my boyfriend was there to help me undress afterwards, but that's another story. <3 

Secondly, since WHEN is it NOT a man's fault that he FORCIBLY engages the girl in intercourse or some variation there-of? Honey, when I want sex, I will have sex and I will enjoy it. The moment I don't and I say stop and the other person keeps going, it is IMMEDIATELY rape. Same can go for guys!! If a guy isn't interested anymore or doesn't even want to continue sex and says no, it is RAPE if the woman pushes him down and continues. And YES, women CAN overpower men too; verbally, emotionally, or physically.

Those are two huge arguments at the heart of a Feminist's cry against misogyny in our cultures. And they are good points too. And yet we have to wonder why a good portion of the population thinks the opposite; that women are wanting to put themselves in these situations and that it is THEIR fault it occurred in the first place. Honestly, turn on the TV and watch any commercial or TV show/drama. What are the women doing? What do they look like? Is there an attractive woman in there that isn't sexual in some way or stupid? The TV show Ugly Betty is painful to watch for this reason. Women have very 2-Dimensional roles in our culture. 

When have you seen a sweet-looking chubby girl as the main star of a TV drama? When have you seen a fat girl as anything but crazy, bitchy, book-smart, or sex/love-starved? Oohhh... It PISSES me off! Fuck this country!

I'm going to lid this particular topic for now. When I next have time, I will most definitely post about the word "bitch". <3 A very personal blog for me, stay tuned!!!

     ~The Lamb's Witch

Addictions to the Good... And to the Bad

I wonder if I can even call this a Rant... Oh wait, YES I FUCKING CAN.

I have tons of issues. Not gonna lie to ya. Some things were just never really taken care of by me or for me.

The fact that I had to clarify that things have to be done for me struck me as "WTF, This is my life I don't even whydoIevenbreatheandlivehangingonotherpeopleohmeohmy."

I have a list of sins that I am going to share today. Sins related to addictions and how fucked up I can be. Gonna be scary. Shield your child's eyes and send granny into the other room if you have to.

We all clear? Good.

My first sin is the addiction to other people. 

When I was in high school I realized that I could stand being by myself on occasion. It happens. I was left alone in a house several times and nothing bad ever happened to me and I didn't need people, so I could handle situations clearly. Two years ago I had a very rude shake to my system about being alone. Being TRULY alone.

I won't blame my family for what happened, they are fully entitled to do as they please, but I found their actions to be the reason why I'm addicted to people. 

Have you ever been in a room full of people and felt alone? It's not you going crazy, it's that no one in the room has acknowledged your presence. It makes humans feel uncomfortable if they're not being paid attention to in some way because we as humans are social creatures that feed off of other humans. So when I tell you that I was alone at home two years ago for Christmas and New Years... I want you to understand my full meaning

For nearly an entire month neither my mother or my father acknowledged my presence in their home. They were mad at me, desperately pissed at me and disappointed as well. In my own home I had no way of being with other people. I wasn't allowed to leave, my best friend was away to Panama for Christmas and my at the time boyfriend I couldn't talk to because every time I tried we ended up getting into some kind of "I miss you, I hate your parents" banter that made me sad. I finally broke up with him late one evening, after my parents found out some of the conversations we've had, and I was sobbing for days. Sobbing hard because I knew it was good for me to do so and I was sad and scared. I told my parents a secret... Because I was alone and afraid. I had broken up with the only man I thought I loved and I had no other friends right there to be with. I told my parents a secret I had been hiding from them for about 3 weeks because I was scared about it and because I wanted to be closer to them. 

And they yelled at me and shunned me for a whole month. No talks, no conversations, no nothing. It was like I was nothing more than a ghost. A poltergeist, maybe even an unwanted bug. All I know is that they were not happy with me and not appreciative of my need to share a secret and be intimate with them. I ended  up going back to my boyfriend because I was sad, guilty, and desperate for someone to love me and hold me like I meant something to them. I remember him holding me tight, his head against my belly as I sat down in his chair, his body between my legs, revering me and my presence. It was addicting. And I knew... I needed his attention. Desperately.

My second sin is my addiction to touch.

The only time I've ever been calmed... the only way I have ever been comforted, is through presence and touch. I'm not like everyone else. You can't call me or text me and expect me to be okay, I'm not okay. I need a hug, a hand on my back, arms around me and telling me I'll be okay. I'm not that strong. I'm broken, frail and if I don't have someone helping hold me together, I'm so scared I'll fall to pieces and crumble into dust under Time's might weight. As that's the case... Touch is a precious thing to me. And I adore giving out my affection to others. If I am truly comfortable with you, I will get all up in your grill and touch your body (not like that, you weirdo people and your gutter-brains), I mean I will touch an arm, a shoulder, a back, or your face to tell you that you mean something to me. Hugs are my reasons for living. If it weren't for hugs, I'd be dead from lack of love and affections.

**BUNNIES DIE WITHOUT TOUCH, PEOPLE; LOVE THEM!**

The stronger and more intimate the touch, the more I trust you. If I let you touch me in places I don't usually let people touch me (Lower back, the obvious, my belly, my legs, and my face) and I don't slap you away, you are my closest person and I will always trust you with my heart and friendship. I go crazy if I don't get hugs or hold someone's hand or just have someone next to me. I go batshit crazy... and it scares me when I do.

My third sin is my addiction to... yeah, sex. Well, intimacy, if we're going specific and correct.

I'm a sex addict, I'll admit it. For the longest time it was my favorite way of getting touch. It was deep, intimate, forbidden and very meaningful to me. I'm hesitant to tell everyone on this blog about this particular sin... Seeing as how it's a dark secret for me. But it's time that I learn to face my addictions, so here it goes.

Sex, for me, was the beginning of a very deep love, and the only way to comfort a raging madman who thought I was always going to run away and that I was never going to meet up to his expectations. I was complacent, I tried my hardest and the only way to perk his mood was to let him have sex with me and initiate it. By that point, it was fun and my only reason for being there after a very long time was to get rid of the horrible atmosphere. It was control, it was a way for me to lighten a mood and the only way I was going to be okay with it was to enjoy it and to use it. The meaning I kept in my heart, hoping one day it would be everything I hoped. To vain, the relationship died, and now I'm with a man who could care less about sex.

Fuck me (pardon the Freudian Slip) but that was a 180 degree spin the OPPOSITE side of the pole. Now it's a bit of a need and an addiction. If I don't get my addiction of touch, I begin to grow in my need for sex. It's a relief and it's an intimate form of touch that eases me. It tells me I'm wanted, it tells me I'm not an eyesore, and it tells me someone else trusts me intimately. Kissing, and touching THOSE areas, stroking, breath mingling, close together on a bed knowing that you enjoy my presence greatly... Those are the biggest parts of my addiction. It's intimacy more than anything that I crave. Sex is one of those things that are kinda weird to look at on its own, but they give me all the intimacy touches I crave I want and it's fun, so sex is just a broad term for what I'm addicted to.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hop from bed to bed looking for this touch. I get hot and bothered by love. I love who I love and only that person(s) (since I have had two partners now) can and will ever be able to touch me like that. (BAD TOUCH, BAAAAD TOUUUUUCH) Anyway....

Those are my main sins, God help me. 

I have psychological and biological need for these things and it scares me that I've come to realize how and why I have these addictions. Should I want to temper or remove them, however, admitting that I even have an addiction is the correct first step that I should take... However, I'm so scared that I want these addictions and they're actually healthy, under some managing and reigning in. I'm scared because they're ways for people to control me again. To deny me to be near you, to deny me touch, and (for those special few) to deny me intimate touching will literally break me down a little. My trust and love is very precious, because I'm so broken. Now I understand why some people are so cold after they're hurt... they know that one more break will send them into a spiral they never want to go to again. And it sucks, it really does. 

Trusting people is dangerous in the world we live in. No one is truly safe and no one is truly trustworthy. We're human, we make mistakes. We want power, we want control, we want our way and if you say "no, I don't", you're fucking lying to yourself, go see a shrink. 

Tonight I hope to dream of the times I can be with friends and cuddle with the little soft reminders of being with friends at the fair and cuddle with my plushie that was stowed on my dashboard for me to find because someone loves me that much. Sweet memories that I don't always need touch, because it's there for me whenever I need it. Memories that I'll always have friends to hold me when I'm breaking.

God, it's good to be alive.

~Lamb's Witch

All Right, Everyone. Time for to an Existential Crisis Post.

I don't think I've ever truly stopped to ask myself who I was or where I was going in life.

I've always had the answers to what I wanted to do, what school I wanted to go to, what kind of a person I wanted to become. But I've never really been able to pin down WHO I AM NOW and WHERE AM I GOING. And this has started to take a poll on my life.

When I was a kid, everything was planned out for me. I had no say, no choice, nothing to call my own decision. My decisions were tied with strings and my parents pulled the cords to make me dance to the tune they liked at the time. As such, I ended up becoming a very good girl with high moral standards and a stick shoved up my own ass the size of a cactus. ---Well I was a puppet, what else would I have shoved up there??--

Recently I've had a string of "what the hell am I doing" running through my head. What I feel like my own accomplishments aren't actually, truly, my own accomplishments. They are simply the result of other people's influence on me. Even though they are my decisions and my choices; one way or another I am still just a puppet that other people control to their own whim. I can't take credit for leaving my boyfriend last year, I can't take credit for going to therapy, I can't take credit for getting into Psi Chi, I can't take credit for managing to pass my classes last year, I can't take credit for anything, good or bad.  And I have absolutely NO idea why...

I started this blog as a means for me to pour my heart and soul out onto paper in such a way that everyone can see my thoughts and understand me a little bit more as I try to understand myself. And this is a post I have long since been put off. Each paragraph, each sentence, is the structural thought process going through my mind as they come. Uncensored, raw, harsh, childish thoughts. I wish I was profound. I wish I had things to teach to others. But I simply am not strong enough.

Many of you who went through last October and November and have kept with me these past 10-11 months are probably raging and confused. I'll tell you... You are the only reason why I am still alive. The ONLY reasons why I even am here today to talk about this. I was so swayed by your words and your actions and your kindness that I didn't even think that the actions you were asking of me were wrong. They made sense, they were my guides to leaving. But they weren't my thoughts, nor my ideas. I may have executed those plans, but for some reason I can't seem to say honestly and have it stick that "I am the one who made that decision and I am stronger and better for it". Actually, quite the opposite... My thoughts and beliefs are the reflections of those around me. I remember the only time I was able to fight in my entire life against people and held fast to my beliefs was when I was still the stuck up Catholic girl my parents raised. 

And I'm tired... I'm so, so tired of having these horrible feelings and not being able to know how to deal with it all. And despite the fact that I so desperately want to be my own person, I just don't seem to be able to find the type of motivation that allows me to be able to do what needs to be done. And the worst part is that my own shortcomings and misgivings are destroying my relationships with other people and even my boyfriend that I have come to love so dearly, all of them. I snap, I want to get angry, I want things to go my way and I want them taken care of immediately and yet there is no amount of reasoning in the world that allows for me to realize that I can't even promise that for others. So why the hell can't I do that for myself? After this week is going to be a lot of self-reflecting.

Is my relationship going to work under these conditions?

Will my friendships survive?

Will school survive? 

Will work survive? 

Will I be able to graduate on time like I should?

Will I have to do a shit ton of work later that I'm not willing to do anyway?

What am I missing that makes this such a big deal for me?

Why do I want to take an easy way out?

Is the way I prioritize myself and my life wrong?

How do I prioritize better?

How do I stop having those flashbacks that make me want to curl up into a ball and cry in the middle of class?

How do I release stress both normal and sexual without harming others or demanding more from others?

Where is my Will? What happened to the strong Will I used to have that managed to have all the answers for me and accepted "I don't know" and forgave? Where the hell is it now?

Now it's time for me to get up and try to patch up what I have destroyed another day and try not to let others distract me. I wish dearly that I will be able to fix this soon. This inability to think rationally or logically about things that actually need it. Because I'm so lost and I feel so lonely because this time... No one's words or decisions can help me any more.

Beauty - It's Skin Deep, Bitches

A'ight. Tonight we are going to be doin' some word-play and analyzing deep shit here. DEEEEEEEEEEEEEP SHIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

Ya know, I have this really, REALLY horrible problem with looking at other girls and comparing myself to them. It's stupid, and unnecessary, but I don't care. I feel horrible because I cannot even fathom what their life is like while being that fucking BMI. Seriously. Or taking care of their skin like that. How do they have a life? How do they make their money? All the girls I know that make their own money by doing hard, dirty labor at retail or restaurant jobs have tons of blemishes that they simply cover up with make up. 

And know, I hear some of you in my head saying "Well it's all in the way they present themselves to society." Fuck that shit. If you're really thin, got a decent face and decent hair, you're one makeup bag away from gettin' all the guys. Why? MEN ARE SHALLOW AND BEAUTY IS ONLY SKIN DEEP.

Okay, not all men are this way, but most are. There is this really AWESOME (Sarcasm Detector: HIGH) thing we humans worry about and do all the time. We judge. And what's worse is that we judge on first impressions. So because I'm fat, overweight, not wearing the best/latest clothing that is skin-tight and reveals the Twins and my Hoochie, then I'm some kinda frigid fat chick that is too busy eating to get a life and get some sex. However, flaunt around some of the Twins and Hoochie and Imma tryhard fat chick that is flinging herself at any guy with a dick to finally lose her virginity.

You know it's true, stop denying it. Even we women do it too. I can't tell you how many women I've seen wearing next to nothing and thinking "Dayum, girl wants to get LAID." But (And hindsight bias IS very much in effect here, perhaps) I think it's all about clothing and representation. If you want a laugh about what NOT to wear (Because I don't have time to go through all the clothes that you SHOULDN'T wear.) go look at Jeff Foxworthy's Redneck Fashion Tips. It might save you the embarrassment of wearing something that is NOT flattering on you.

But in all seriousness, there really ARE some things that girls of any size should not wear. It's different, but it goes something along the lines of: "If it's really too big for your normal clothes, don't try to wear something that barely covers it up. If you want it to look bigger, pad that shit up with the right frills and fluffs." Works for eyes and it works for body parts too. But, to be honest, women are our own biggest critic. I know that if I were to wear the right things, I could look Oh-So-Sexy  to anyone, but I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin because of what SOCIETY says I need to look like. 

Darling, I could eat that model for breakfast. Even poor Demi Lovato and Jennifer Lawrence got PhotoShop Tummy tucks and instant tone-ups before getting slapped onto the covers of magazines. It's like: Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously? Those women are strong and nicely shaped and you're MAKING THEM SOMETHING ELSE? God, it makes me so sick. My BMI is 40.1, Demi's is 25 and Jennifer's is around 23. Demi is considered "Fat" and Jennifer is "Healthy" and you're reading a blog by an "Obese"-as-fuck Bitch. My issues are deep seeded. They may be my own fault because I allow myself to get this worked up over what other girls look like, but damn. If a hot chick walked past my beau (Or butch, I swing that way too) and they were FAR more attractive by society's standards, you bet your ass I'd feel insecure and threatened. 

It took me a LONG time to let my man convince me that he loved me because of my sweetheart mannerisms and that he didn't care about my weight. But *I* Fucking care about my weight. It REALLY sucks to be big and have every girl check out my man's butt and give me dirty looks for holding his hand. Seriously? Get a life. I want to be pretty for me. So I finally feel like I don't have to worry about anything. Like I am the best I can be. I'm good Socially, Psychologically, Academically, and Financially, but not quite in the Physically and Spiritually. And those fucking bother me. Because I'm not the best I can/could be. And I know that I can't always be the best, but it doesn't stop me from trying and it certainly doesn't stop me from wanting to obtain those goals. Hell, even if I were close, I'd be totally okay with it. But I'm not even close.

Ya know what? I can't help it if I want to compare myself to others. I want to find a goal and continue comparing myself to it until I'm there, and these women are just my bits and pieces of my last goal. Lemme tell ya, my Man's last woman was a CRAZY hoe, but she was SMOKIN' hot. And the other one he wanted was pretty damn sexy and sweet, but halfway across the United States. And then there's little me.

Yeah me, with the curly brown hair, brown eyes, freckled face with blackheads and obvious imperfections and a fat body. I am truly and honestly surprised he can keep it up when we mess around. Even *I* find myself unattractive disrobed. Even with makeup on. EVEN WITH A $300 DRESS ON I STILL FEEL UGLY BECAUSE I THINK I AM UGLY. There. It's done. We are ugly because we feel like we're ugly. We scour ourselves for imperfections and mess up our views with our faults. It is so easy. So, so fucking easy to be a Debbie Downer about how we look. I'd like to be an Uplifting Annie for once and go "Okay, not my best looking today, but let's just put some coverup on so we can look fabulous for work!" Or some such shit like that. But nah, I like the easy route. That's why I'm fat. 

I'm out for tonight. And I don't remember what the fuck I ate today, so I say I've failed to curb my calorie intake for the day. 

     ~The Lamb's Witch

The Customer is NOT Always Right

Yes I went to another bar last night. Don't like it? Too bad, don't say anything.

All right. I have a problem with whiny little brats. And no, I don't mean meatbags under the age of 14, I mean grown adults who complain about fucking EVERYTHING because they don't listen.

I work in a fabric and rug store. Our rugs have a policy attached to them that state that if you buy a rug, you CANNOT (100% CAN-FUCKING-NOT) return it, you can only exchange it, but there are no limits on the exchanges, you can do it as many times as you want to in order to find the perfect rug. ALL of us were trained and rehearsed to tell the customers at LEAST 3 times the policy: when they ask (they always do), when they are choosing between a few, and before we swipe their card. I have even gotten into the habit of circling the 14-day exchange policy on the receipts because this has happened so many fucking times in our store.

Today, a woman came in with one of our really nice, new rugs and wanted to return it, saying it was just the wrong color. I told her to go look at the other rugs and let me know when she was ready to exchange. She insisted on returning and when I told her it was our company policy to not return, but exchange rugs, she threw the BIGGEST temper tantrum I have EVER seen. She screamed and insisted that she was told she could return it as a "trial-run" and demanded to speak with a manager. So I go grab our manager and not 5 minutes later, I see the woman leave in a huff, stomping her feet and jiggling her big ass our of our store with the rug. Our manager told her the exact same thing and showed her the signs all over the store, in front of EACH register and on the receipt.

Oh wait, I'm not even DONE with this story.

Later on, my manager gets a call from our Owner and chats about what happened.

Yes, fucking yes. This little bitch CALLED OUR CORPORATE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT OUR STORE POLICY. WHAT THE FUCK.

To make matters even worse, our owner decided to give THE LITTLE WHORE HER MONEY BACK. Okay, then why the fuck is this policy even in place? If you're going to give this little whining brat her money back like that, then why even tell us that we can't do it? It just means that anyone who whines and complains gets what they want. PROTECT YOUR GODDAMN EMPLOYEES, Good Sir! We get insulted because you pull shit like this. Just... God damn.

I'm too tired to keep this rant up. I've said what I wanted and I am SO glad I left before she came back. I might have accidentally smacked her in the face with a heavy bolt of fabric... *cough cough*

          ~The Lamb's Witch

     Daily Food Intake:
          Breakfast: Orange (100), Fries (75)
          Lunch: Orange (100), Pot pie (400)
          Dinner: Fried Chicken (200), Chips (150), Dip (100)
     Total: 1125 Calories

Late Posts and Fuck You, Good Sir

A'ight... Learn to let people go. 

So I skipped a post the other night because I was having the time of my life at a Karaoke bar a short ride away from where I live. I was the DD for the night, but that didn't stop me from having THE BEST FUCKING TIME EVER WITH FRIENDS! Even us Fat Bitches gotta have their fun. ;)

After a few drinks, I gotta get a couple friends sober for their ride home, so we all go to a Denny's nearby. When we walk in, I scan the scene just to take in who's around and I immediately spot a coworker. Not a good worker that you wanna go "EEEEeeeyyy! It's you! Sup, brah?" No, this is the kind of coworker you PURPOSEFULLY avoid eye contact with when you're out of the workplace because outside of the workplace there are no rules as to how you have to treat them. And believe me, sometimes I would love to just strangle this little useless turd until he goes purple and blue. You don't do your job, you sit on your phone all goddamn shift and text and play around with it and YOU TELL US ABOUT YOUR SECOND JOB. 

Let me explain. This guy doesn't have an ordinary second job. No, this little turd has admitted to being a DRUG DEALER. 

What the fuck. You don't admit that to anyone. Like, ever.

The worse part is that when this guy was hired, our manager was all like: Well, my SON vouched for his working ethics so I'll hire him based off of that. Yeah, a druggie, useless turd was hired as a third key to our store. And this guy has managed to stick around for over two months. At first, he was pretty okay, but afterwards he just let loose and stopped giving a fuck about his job. He would even go sign spinning because it was "boring" inside.

Um, sorry, brah. You are not getting paid 9.50 an hour just to twirl a goddamn piece of plastic and cardboard around. Especially if I get paid 8.00 to do the cleaning, the go-backs, the straightening, the customer service, the opening, the closing, AND cleaning up after YOUR shit. Hell to the fucking no. After watching this, my manager FINALLY got fed up. Especially after her assistant manager left because she refused to let this fucking idiot go. 

YOU COULDN'T HAVE LET HIM GO EARLIER? Jesus, you're like a clingy girl in an abusive relationship, you take all his shit until your friends abandon you because you're beyond hope and you're in serious denial. Your two assistants, your sales associates all told you that they hated him because he didn't do any work. Did you think we were JOKING about that?! There is a Spice Girls song that works in this scenario:

"If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends. 

Make it last forever friendship never ends. 

If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give.

Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is."

Amen, Spice Girls, you classy buncha singers.

You are the girl, your friends are the coworkers that have been with you through thick and thin and try their hardest to help in any way they can. Your lover is the newbie. Look at the song. Loooook at it. Get it? Yeah, that's how it should be. If you're in a retail store, ya gotta give and keep giving in order to get something back. Otherwise your coworkers wanna strangle you until you're blue and purple. It really does suck, the guy was all cool and nice at first, but then he got lazy and became a douche. Le sigh.

Anyway, my moral for the day is to never, ever cling onto someone (Workplace or otherwise) and hope that they change after you've told them over and over and over again to do something because their current behaviors are negatively affecting you, and they show absolutely NO signs of changing their behavior. That's messed up, seriously. Had that happen to me and I got burned so badly I'm STILL seeing a therapist about that shit. 

All right all, stay classy.

~The Lamb's Witch

     Daily Calorie intake:

          Breakfast: Denny's breakfast wrap (590)

          Lunch: Cup Noodle with Shrimp (300), Cup Noodle with Chicken (250)

          Dinner: Brown rice 1 cup (200), Chicken and Green Beans (210), chicken and mushrooms (230)

 

    Total Calories for the day: 1780 (Not my best, but definitely okay for such a long day)

"Fat Shaming" It's a thing

Be Ashamed of "Fat Shaming"... Ya bunch of dicks.

Okay, so today I have an issue with people that "Fat Shame". For those of you who are not acquainted with "Shaming" in any sense of the phrase, it has to do with derogatory remarks meant to specifically make a person who looks or acts a certain way feel shame. "Slut Shaming" is when you call someone a whore, slut, or even cat call and make hand, hip or even hand gestures designed to make another person feel like a sexual object rather than a person. In that respect, "Fat Shaming" is about making another person feel really bad about their weight. Other than "bullying" there hasn't been a phrase to put to this specific type of harassment until very recently. 

The other day, I was looking at my Cosplay page that I liked on Facebook. There was a woman featured where her before and after photos of her from 2011 and 2013 showed a great deal of weight loss. She couldn't have been more than +20lbs from me, and yet she went down to flat tummy and strong, carved arms and legs. The comments were the best parts of the feature. Tons congratulated the girl for the weight loss and for finding her "inner beauty" show onto her body for others to see. Even more called her an "inspiration" for women who wanted to lose weight to that extent. But what fascinated me were the comments that were almost double-edged or back handed. 

"Finally, a fat bitch that found out how to not over-eat." 

-and-

"That's obviously not her. Not only is it impossible to loose THAT much weight in 2 yrs, but the two girls look NOTHING alike."

...

...

...

*Slow breath in*

THE FUCKING HELL! Not only is it COMPLETELY possible to lose roughly 50 pounds in a year, but these ignorant bastards decided that THEY were the ones that dictated if the girl was even pretty or not!

Fuck.

You.

This is my issue with society's standards today. Only 10% ever meet the "Ideal" Standards of women. Not only that, but open up a fucking magazine and take a look at the way the girls are portrayed. "Sexy", with tousled hair, legs slightly open, breasts pronounced and a soft, dewy skin tone. 

Hi, my name is Myr and I have short, frizzy-curly hair and I'm very curvy and I have rolls and I have freckles all over my skin and scars and my legs have scars from when I used to cut in high school. Fuck you, society. In your eyes, I've already failed as a woman just because I don't look like that.

When I go out to work out or even go for a walk by myself, I see thin girls in tight tops and what I like to call "Hoochie Shorts", the shorts that look like they could pass as denim bloomers in Japan. And, yes, they tend to show off a little bit of the girls'... Hoochie. Then there's me, in shorts to my knees and an empress-top with 5-inch sleeves to cover my flabby arms. I still get weird looks, even today, if I wear anything other than that. 

If I want to go out in a tennis skirt and my jogging top to go for a fast walk before doing some exercises for my leg (Which I can't feel) and my ankle (which is naturally very weak), I have to get disgusted stares, low mutters about what I'm wearing, and dirty looks all the time from passerby.

Um... Excuse me. Who the fuck gave YOU permission to judge ME with your eyes? See what you're doing with your eyes? Fucking stop it. You do not define if I'm pretty or not. I'm not naked, I'm not letting my breasts spill out from my top. UNLIKE YOU. You got boobs. I get it. Congratulations for being a female and having mammaries to feed your offspring. I bet you have a vagina too. -_-

This brings me back to my main point of why "Fat Shaming" Should be destroyed. Us overweight girls already know that we're overweight. We don't need to be reminded, thanks. What we NEED is support to feel good about OURSELVES so WE can work out and be healthy for US. 

OUR weight has nothing to do with YOU. Got it? 

NOTHING. 

AT ALL! 

If you think so, you can shove a cactus covered in Ghost Pepper up your own ass. 

People celebrate a girl's success AFTER she has been able to achieve her goal of weight loss. Otherwise, they give her looks for being overweight and trying to lose weight. I've also been told to just go home and go eat what's in my fridge because that's all I'll ever do and the gym is for thin people. Fucking...

What? WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT KIND OF SENSE DOES THAT MAKE?! You want us to be thin, so you make us feel bad about being fat and then tell us that we'll never BE thin in the first place and tell us to just... keep... being... fat...

Yeah. Good job, society. You're fucking genius. *clap clap clap*

Everyone wants an underdog. Everyone wants someone they can dump their shit on so they feel better about themselves. LEARN TO USE A FUCKING TOILET AND DEAL WITH YOUR OWN SHIT.

That's it. I'm done for tonight.

Oh yeah, and before I forget:

   Breakfast: Water, Diet Peach Tea (10 calories), CLIF bar (240 Calories)

   Lunch: 1c Honey Roasted Nuts (320 Calories), carrots (30 calories)

   Dinner: Platter at the Sunrise Cafe (660 calories)

   Calories total for the day: 1,270

          ~The Lamb's Witch