My clothing is now rejecting the body I have become. I no longer fit in my wardrobe, though I can still get most of what I own on somehow. I am still able to wear all clothing with the exception of pants. I can no longer get my jeans on, not even a little. I’ve gained so much weight that my pants only fit my knees. I have gained so much weight that my dresses are no longer long enough to be dresses. The circumference of my rear has taken the length until my dresses are now shirts. They are the only shirts I wear. My actual shirts are too small. They are too tight. They roll up and over my hips like a venetian blind being pulled up to keep a window full of light. Not any of it is right. The fit my fat has created.
I would really prefer just to live the rest of my life naked. Clothes are so restricting. Demanding too. I feel confined to fit them and I am simply not committed right now. I do not want to fit my clothing. I want to be a pizza eating nudist. That is what I think now as I imagine all that I will need to change to get back to the glory of my fitness body. Ugh. I do not want to go back to that lifestyle and yet it is all I think about while I am sitting on my couch stuffing my face full of candy while enjoying a bender of “Breaking Bad” episodes. If I had my way I would eat myself through every season of every great television series that I have managed to miss over the years I have been working. I’ve never had time for T.V. and yet lately I have been making it.
I have time to watch an episode of “Vikings” on the history channel, but I cannot allow myself to take the same hour for the gym. That is really all it takes. All I need to be on top of the world is ONE HOUR OF FITNESS A DAY.
But the couch is so great for snuggling and the fireplace is so warm. I can’t wait to get back to it. The comfy, cozy, of my snuggly wuggly couch. Why would I ever want to leave it? My couch is good to me. It doesn’t ask anything from me. My couch could care less if I can do a push-up. My couch doesn’t even care if I wear clothes which brings me to the disdaining truth of what this love affair has cost me. Jeans. Now I am a leggings girl.
As to what I have gained beyond weight and soft clothing, I have success and the consequences of it. My body is the product of every choice. Tonight I am going to the gym to take Body Pump with a cherished friend. Then I am coming home to the lavish of pizza and couch time with the love all loves. My guy and this beautiful life we’ve created. The weight will fuel new muscle when I am again ready to grow instead of languish in lazy. I am fat and happy. This life is bliss. I do not need to lose when I am gaining.