Disclaimer: This is something I had to write down. It was like therapy, getting all these feelings out and sharing them. I was unsure whether to include it on here as it may seem a bit self indulgent. However it is a blog about me! So what  the hell. If I have fat pictures on here then I can have some emotional shiz too! It is lengthy but don't feel the need to read if it really doesn't interest you! 

Hello my name is Jen and I am addicted to food. Some people’s vices are cigarettes, some are alcohol, and others are gambling and spending money. Mine is food. The thing with an addiction to food is that you can’t go cold turkey. You need food to survive. Placing a bet on Paddy Power does not fuel your body, and neither does smoking 20 Benson and Hedges a day. I am not addicted to all foods though, just the bad kinds. MacDonald’s, KFC, Chow Mein and deep fried chicken balls, creamy kormas with mounds of rice, pasta with cheese and garlic bread, chocolate cake, cheesecake, twirls, crunchies, malteasers, fried egg sandwiches and so on. Basically anything that contains a stupid amount of fat or sugar.

My obsession with food began in my third year of university when I discovered that I could kind of cook. Healthy stir fry’s and the odd curry then turned into mounds of unhealthy options. I started to notice that my size 10/12 figure was paying the price for the awesome steaks I had been consuming. By the time I left university I was a large size 14 and the biggest I had ever been. Living away from my boyfriend and being unemployed was difficult. Depression set in and I would fill my days lying in bed watching Waking the Dead (Boyd is the ultimate maverick) and eating bags upon bags of crisps. I would have a cooked lunch and dinner and would snack all evening long. I ate my feelings and I had a lot of feelings. Instead of doing something about my weight, I just continued to eat. Once I started working my weight levelled off and I stopped gaining weight. I was unhappy with my weight but I had a man that told me daily he loved me for me and not for my fat size 16 arse (my words, not his) so everything was all good.

In spring 2011 my boyfriend left me and once again food took over. Instead of talking about how devastated I was I just consumed a ridiculous amount of fosters and stuffed my face. Food rarely let me down (alcohol always did!) and it made me happy for the moment it was on my lips. Afterwards I would feel even more upset and shameful that I had let myself to become overweight. I know why he left me and it wasn’t because I was fat however for a long time I believed this to be the case. Eventually I started to think about my food intake and for a while it was under control. I replaced nights in binging with evenings out socialising and doing puzzlers really helped! (Still fricken love them buggers)  My Mum and dad were both a big help and would never buy snack foods and would always cook healthy and fresh meals. When I moved away from home though I was completely in control and the bad eating habits re surfaced. The feelings of rejection and the emotions I felt about the break up resurfaced and it was hard to control my feelings.

A friend’s wedding early this year forced me to address my weight. I did not want to be a fat bridesmaid. I had spoken before about losing weight and going on a diet so I couldn’t really blame people for not believing I could fit into a size 14 bridesmaid dress. Some of the negative comments made about my ‘challenge’ really spurred me on. For once I was using other people’s negative attitude as motivation rather than an excuse to cry and feel sorry for myself. I used an email sent by the ex as motivation, looking at before the gym and taking out all my anger on the cross trainer and rowing machine. The weight started to drop and so did my feelings towards him. I lost a stone and a half and my size 16 bridesmaid dress fitted with room to spare. The gorgeous Bride and all four of her bridesmaids looked shit hot that day (Bunch of G’s). It was a real turning point in my life and I think if I had stuck to the diet after the wedding I would currently be near my target weight. Instead a busy social life got in the way and a beer belly developed and I piled all the weight back on plus another half a stone. I feel really disappointed that this happened but I know that I can lose the weight and this motivation in itself.

For the most part I am happy with my life and that’s what makes me eat also, contentment. I like my job and my flat and I have the most amazing group of friends.  I eat when I am sad and I eat when I am happy, that is the problem. I am not happy about being 14 stone and a size 18. I want to be able to look in the mirror and not feel repulsed by my figure. I know that not only do I need to lose weight that I need to start using food for its purpose and not as a solution to my problems. I need to develop a healthy relationship with food. Food does not fix problems, talking about them does. So I know now I need to do more talking and less eating.

image courtesy of happyclippings.com

Peace Out 

x 

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@CCrackered 

Thank you Lovelies 

xxx

So I have finally decided to do something about my food/beer baby that is growing at rapid speed. Not only have I fucked over my body with my overindulgence but also my willpower and motivation. I want to lose 4 stone which I know is a stupid amount of weight however it needs to be done. It won’t take a few months. I am expecting that it will take me the best part of a year to lose this amount of weight. I am willing to commit to this as I do want to change my life. I want to be able to tie the laces on my converse with ease and I want to be able to sit comfortably in my car without my big fat belly touching the steering wheel (depressing right?) I also do not want to be the butt of any more fat/chubby jokes. There is only so many times that you can say ‘Yeah I maybe fat but I can change my weight, you can’t change how ugly your face is bitch’ before you just sound like a complete twat.

Anybody who has known me since my teenage years knows my secret, that I am a fat skinny person. Throughout my teens my weight was never an issue. I always a tiny size 6 and this was due to regular PE lessons (which by the way I was shit at) and a dance class once a week. I had no boobs and to be honest I was never that bothered by that. I was more worried about my face, gaunt looking with glasses and braces. I was most defiantly not a catch. This was my issue, the thing I hated most about myself. As I got to 16 the braces came off and contact lenses replaced my much hated glasses and my face started to fill out.  Soon enough PE lessons were a thing of the past and I decided that I was too cool to do tap dancing and this equalled no exercise. Since then I have battled with my weight. I have gone from a size 8 to a size 12 back to a size 8 and then in one year I went from a healthy looking size 12 to a size 16, the biggest that I had ever been.  This came at the time that I left at University, was unemployed and 150 miles away from my boyfriend. Food was my friend. Instead of talking about how I felt, I ate my feelings. When my boyfriend broke up with me in 2011 I was fat and miserable. I was weighing 13 stone and struggling to get into size 16 clothes. In January of this year my friend announced that she was getting married in 6 weeks and I was to be a bridesmaid. The thought of standing next to 3 stunning, skinny bridesmaids made me feel sick with fear. I would look huge. My size 16 dress also would not do up. So I got off my fat arse, joined a gym and ate very little. For the wedding my size 16 dress fitted and I was bordering on a size 14. I had lost a stone and a half! I was beyond happy although I was still a lot fatter than my gorgeous friends. Since February I have put all that weight back on and more and now I am a very chubby size 18 weighing in at a whopping 14 stone. (Pure shame)

Last week I looked in the mirror one evening and just burst into tears. My face was covered in spots, I had massive bags under my eyes and I was sporting at least 3 chins. I felt disgusting. It was then that something clicked in my head. I was an adult and I had to start behaving like one. A responsible adult does not eat themselves into an early grave. The amount of calories I consume in a day is redonkulous and not only is it showing on the outside but it is starting to affect my health. I cannot walk far without getting hot and out of breath and I feel so sluggish and tired. I do not want to be the chubby one anymore. I want to be just beautiful as my friends and feel happy with myself. However I am not stupid. I know that looking good is not the key happiness, money is! I’m joking.  I have the most amazing family, some beautiful and supportive group of friends, a nice little job, a lovely flat and a busy social life. I feel that the one thing missing right now is feeling good about my body.

So the battle of the bulge starts here today. 

Wish me luck!

x