"Sometimes, I guess there just aren't enough rocks."

by Amy Turn Sharp


I think I may try and go on a diet. Screw the lifestyle change thing really.
I need a diet. Restriction. Groaning and moaning and suffering.
I need to lose weight again. It happens to me over and over.

And all the kings horses and all the kings men couldn't put Humpty together again.

My best scenario dieting involves me not having children and having disposable income.
I do best with Weight Watchers club style pom pom cheerleader I'm gonna beat you here comes my competitive side thing diet.
I get all organized and obsessed and it is gorgeous.
Weight drops from me and all my friends fawn all over me and I dance more and my old designer clothes come from behind their plastic sleeves and the worlds shines so brightly on me that I glow.

My mother was my original yo yo dieter idol.
She once got diamond earrings from my dad for losing 50lbs.
That was kinda fucked up to me even then.
My mom lost the same 50-75 lbs over and over. She finally lost the control and ended up severely overweight. She had gastric bypass a few years back and is a skinny bitch now.
Healthy and happy and it worked out for her. Thank God. She is beautiful and has control again.
But, I don't really wanna follow her down all the roads.
I would like to beat this demon now before all of the sudden my kids are big kids and I am still wearing sweatpants that may or may not be maternity.

and when yr up yr up and when yr down yr down
and when yr only half way up yr neither up nor down

Fit for Life was the cult diet I remember most. She ate like a French woman until noon with assorted fruits and then talked about dead foods like meat rotting in her stomach and I just sat there with my Little Debbies and stared. It was like the time at the Ohio State Fair where I watched her fall right into the Vita Mix man's arms. The line around the charismatic vita mix juice freak man wrapped round the isles of the expo center and they all believed.
I even thought for a moment that I would be a juicer.
And I was only twelve.

I can be true and talk about this and be really very careful with the dialogue that I have with my family and my children. I have all the right keys in my pocket to raise good children with good body image. I will not fail them, but that doesn't mean that on inside of me there is not a problem. That doesn't mean that I am not as messed up as any one else. I just keep it all inside. I have been on the diet train since I was 12 years old, but for some graceful reason I am not too damaged because of it. I wore Husky jeans. How shitty was that to call them husky and pretty plus? Blah. Even when I am at my heaviest I am certainly in the upper 5% of most charming and sexy in a room and that has always got me through it.
I do overweight OK.
Actually I do it really well.
I just don't want to anymore.

and when she was good she was very good but when she was bad she was horrid.

I'm unsure why I am really writing this. I guess I would love it if you gave me advice oh people who are smart and live inside of my computer... I guess I am kinda ready to start doing something, but I don't know what it is. I just want to feel better. I want to feel more like I live inside of this body. And not someone else. I really wish you would leave me a comment and tell me things today. Because today is one of those days that I need more from my blog than just a place to write and express myself. kiss kiss. xo

title post- Forrest Gump 1994
photo via flickr