Sabotage is a deliberate action aimed at weakening another entity through subversion, obstruction, disruption, or destruction.
Oh. My. Gosh.
First off, I have to say that I have some great friends. Great friends. Some of them are the sweetest, most thoughtful people I know. I wouldn't trade them for all the tea in China.
Now, that having been said....tonight, I encountered a SABOTEUR!!!
Someone who didn't want leftover cake in THEIR house, sent it to my house.
TO MY HOUSE.
It is common knowledge that I am (once again) on Weight Watchers. Everyone knows it. I've told everyone I've come in contact with this week, right down to my checker at the friggin' grocery store, that I am on a diet and ready to kill myself. I've posted about it 14 times a day on Facebook, and I've declared my HATRED for dieting, working out, and skinny people so many times...I am pretty sure that everyone around me hates me now.
Then again...maybe that's why she did it?
Kidding. This is seriously the nicest person in the world. But, I failed to mention that she is also skinny.
Yeah.....the skinny friend gave ME (the fat girl on Weight Watchers) her leftover cake because SHE didn't want it in her house. Oh, and we discussed my diet not 4 hours before. Yeah. Not great.
I was pissed.
Now, before I gripe anymore...I have to say that being pissed off was a stupid reaction, and I shouldn't have been pissed. She was being nice. I was being the cranky-fat-girl-who-needs-chocolate-STAT. Let that be known.
Then....when I sent the cake back to her house, she sent it BACK again....then when I explained that giving half a cake to a fat girl with a food addiction is like giving scotch to an alcoholic, she said (jokingly--again, I am a cranky a**, and this girl never means harm.).....
"You need to have some self control."
Wait, what?
*Crickets chirping*
She said
what?
Okay. I am not the smartest woman in the world, but I have a few words of wisdom to share with the world: When you are talking to my mother on the phone, never answer the call waiting. Ever. She gets ticked.
When you go to an outdoor Red Hot Chili Peppers concert, don't breathe in very deeply. And if you do, don't drive home or take a urine test for a few days.
When a woman says she's "
Fine." She's not. She's never really fine.
And....
So help me Lord, never....ever ever EVER tell a fat girl that she needs to have some self control. How successful have I been, in my lifetime, telling the alcoholics and drug addicts I know that they needed to "have some self control"?
Um.............never.
In fact, I think I've taken a punch because of saying that to an addict.
(Obviously not everyone in the world has had the same learning opportunities that I have had.)
So here it is, in black and white, for everyone to see, read, and file away for next time: DO NOT EVER TELL A DIETING FAT GIRL THAT SHE NEEDS SOME SELF CONTROL!! Just don't send a cake to her house. And if you do, and she sends it back, DON'T REFUSE IT.
Here is the thing: I don't drink. I don't smoke. I don't gamble. I swear too much, but I don't even watch R rated movies!! I was raised in an extremely alcoholic family, and I am one lucky b*tch that I didn't wind up a total drunk. It's in my genes. I should have wound up that way...
Instead, I have an addiction to food. I really do. When I am sad, I eat. When I am worried, I eat. When I am confused, tired, energetic, happy, indifferent, bored, angry, horny, b*tchy, tired, etc etc etc etc......I EAT. I eat all the time. I eat ALL THE FRIGGIN' TIME. Okay?? I am on the threshold of diabetes and I will probably drop dead of a heart attack in a few years if I don't get this crap under control!!!
Was that clear enough for everyone? Here I am. Naked. Everything out for everyone to see. I am addicted to food. I use food the same way that some other people use drugs or alcohol. I have a problem that I am actively trying to get under control. I am struggling. A LOT. I have good days and bad days, but I am really struggling with this....
And I cannot have cake in my house. And just "having some self control" won't cut it. That was below the belt, and it hurt. Really bad.
Gah.............I want some cheese. This would have been a lot less painful if she weren't skinny and beautiful. I need fatter, uglier friends. Grrrrrrrr....
Brooke Moss.
