We’ll be revisiting Whitney’s childhood today… Little Orphan Annie hairdo and all! I used to roll my eyes whenever I’d go to a therapist/psychologist and all they’d want to do was talk about my childhood. I was totally convinced my childhood had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I now weighed 530 pounds… Nothing! Seriously, therapist, shut up and tell me how to eat less! I’d never say those words outloud, but they played on a neverending loop in my brain until I finally hoisted myself off the couch and left. All I wanted them to do was to tell me how the heck to get skinny… and secure my spot on Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. Wasn’t paying them for anything more. If they’d invented a vacuum that like sucked the fat outta my gut, I’d have totally gone to the therapist more often. Fat-O-Matic… pretty sure I’ve seen an infommercial for that product… right before that magical cream that you rub on your cellulite and it disappears while you sleep. HALLELUJAH!! It’s a dagnab miracle, Francis!
Back to the childhood. My earliest memories of childhood and eating included lying and hiding in the bathroom with handfulls of cookies. Why the bathroom you might ask? It was the only room in the house with a bathtub… duh!! Kidding… it had a lock on it… plus, you could be in there for extended periods of time and no one would wonder what you were up to. I’m totally grossed out by it now (germ-a-phobe), but the fact that my safe eating haven used to be next to the porcelin throne speaks to how desparate I was to get the food.
My mom… I love my mom… she is one of my best friends; I didn’t come with an instruction manual and she came into this whole mothering deal with no previous experience. She loved me… I was gaining weight… she wanted to fix that. Can’t blame her there, can you? It also didn’t help that the rest of my family were skinny little turds (Whitney’s helpful side note: turds is a term of endearment in most countries that I’ve never been to)… my mom, dad, and sister have never had big problems with their weight. So, it was usually Whitney on a diet and the rest of the fam, free reign on the cookie cabinet. I was not really allowed to have cookies… so, what did I do to get them? I tried to shoo the rest of the family out of the house and then I’d raid the junk cabinet and hide in the bathroom to eat it. I had all sorts of tricks to cover up the fact that I had eaten so much. I’d wrap candy wrappers in toilet paper before throwing them into the garbage can… I’d rearrange the remaining cookies in the cookie jar so it looked less suspicious. I guess you could say, judging on my past behavior of wanting what I wasn’t supposed to have, that I’ve always been a stubborn ole’ cuss. I’d say I still am a stubborn ole cuss and I find myself having the same issue with food… not that I hide in the bathroom to eat it, but the fact that I have to hide any food I buy so that no one will take it away from me… all except for brussel sprouts, asparagus, and spinach… I leave those out in plain sight and hope to all heaven that someone comes along and takes them away from me!
I bet y’all didn’t realize that they actually DO make glasses the size of your head. They DO! It’s a miracle I could hoist them suckers up to my nose every morning. Also, never realized how fashon forward I was… I was a good 2 months ahead of my time… see the stylish denim dress with white collared dickie? Laws almighty, that was straight from the runway… and what fat person doesn’t wear horizontal stripes with shoulder pads at the ripe ole age of 13! I’m most surprised that I never got any calls from Teen Vogue Magazine.
There, therapists of the world… are you happy now!? I discussed my childhood, but I’ll still be in for my next appointment with the Fat-O-Matic later this week!