Ima say it. Food rules my life. Not in a good way. Not in a foodie appreciates a good meal kind of way. In a… there’s no governor on this bus kind of way. Feral Fatty to the core. I wake up dreaming about what’s for dinner? As in before 7am. The hand to mouth disease is fo’ real. The noise is loud and relentless. Work more and you can eat what you want, they say. Lies. Working out isn’t the problem. I work out all the time. It’s everything that happens between the gym and the trough. I decided to start shooting up. GLP-1 that is.
Girls Losing Phat-1 pound at a time.
To be clear I am a psycho. I never just take anything. I Google until I’m convinced it will kill me and then I consult at least 3 doctors to make sure I won’t grow a 3rd arm. That’s how I rolls. My PCP suggested Zepbound. It has an extra fat zapping receptor. Clearly, she read the room. On a good day I’m “extra” …so I need all the “extra” I can get. True to form I decided to get my “crack” directly from the dealer. Not one of those sketchy fly by night compounding pharmacies. I didn’t survive said previous takedowns for my fat ass do me in. Mmmkay. Who knows what they put in that shit. I need to be successfully litigious should the need arise. “Feral Fatty (still fat) wins largest lawsuit in history against weight loss giant.” A fat girls dream come true…takes drug, doesn’t lose weight, grows 3rd arm and gets fat paid! Waaaay too easy. So I took the plunge…literally.
First injection. Thirty minutes later.
I craved nothing. Not food. Not even my lova’ rosé. True story. A drop your fork “WTF” moment I wasn’t prepared for. I thought I might be dead. A quick pulse check revealed I was in fact alive and craving nothing. The sensation was feral and foreign. A sudden wave of panic and depression came over me. Had I broken up with my loves? All of them? I was hoping for a quick tryst with the skinny side not a divorce and remarriage all in one day. No one prepared me for this. No one. I was on foreign ground. Alone in a new world. No food cravings and nothing to look forward to. No Combo #2 fantasies. No Chalupa Supreme with extra sour cream late night runs. Panic set in as my pleasure center exited stage left.
This could not continue. Spoiler. It continued.
I felt like I was in one of those drug ads where they tell you all the good stuff in 10 seconds and spend 2 hours covering the side effects. Except they left off the joy robbing part. That should have been in bold letters wrapped around the bottle! Oh you’ll be skinny… while you suck your thumb in numbness. Not a great look mmmmkkkay. In fairness my friend Susan warned me of this. I assumed it was crazy talk…me…no cravings…no joy? Never! As usual she was right. I need new friends. No cravings meant no fulfilling of cravings. My part-time job. What’s left to do? Food was always cause for celebration. To be clear I don’t need a reason to celebrate. Waking up qualifies. The seed planted by my birth Mother. The original Sister In Fat. Yes she birthed AND raised me. I took custody away from her for various fat felonies. I realize it would make a much better story if I told you she left me in a basket at Taco Bell at birth but I that would have been the responsible thing to do. We share some fond memories. Covert Long John Silver runs. 3 piece chicken plank dinner extra crunchies. Apple fritters from Cameron’s Bakery. Some Mother’s read bedtime stories. Mine taught me covert binge eating. Thank you Mother. The GLP-1 bill is forthcoming.
If food was out that left one thing… wine. Naturally I found a way to drink around the GLP-1. Open bottle…pour a glass…or 10. I gots mad skills. The Rose’ train stops for no one. I blame the French. Eventually I found my way back to food. Of course I did. Compromise is key. I ate what I wanted but less of it. 2 piece plank meal hold the crunchies. I lost my status at Long John Silvers but something had to give.
There are “others” on the crack and they don’t want you to know. And that’s ok. Some can’t hide it…crepey chicken skin and huge head to body ratio mmmmkay. It seems like everyone lost 100 pounds in a month. FYI- If you haven’t seen “said” someone for a month you may not recognize them. That wasn’t the case for me. Of course it wasn’t. The weight came off slowly. Because of course it did. It took me a year to lose 40 pounds. Typical. “They” say slower is better. Tell that to the $500 a month I was losing instead of weight. The first 10 pounds felt like 100. I had been stuck for so long I literally didn’t think I could lose 5 pounds. I wanted everyone to notice. No one did. Fuckers. Bucket of water out of the ocean…aint nobody see that.
Then came the Karen’s…
The suddenly concerned crowd who decided I didn’t need to lose weight. NOW I was too skinny. I looked fine before. The real story? It was working. That is envy in a wellness costume. Haters gone hate. In fairness I never “looked” fat. More Thicky Ricardo. You know when everyone tells you, “You don’t need to lose weight.” They aren’t ready to give you up as their fat friend or you really don’t need to lose weight. I was the fat friend. I carried it well like the feral fatty I am. Good thing I could see through the fat and pressed on….
I’ve been on the crack almost two years now. Tryin’ to quit. I’m down to a half dose. Addict life. LiSTEn….if your body doesn’t produce something and you take a shot to replace it aint nothin wrong with that. My body produces fat and nothing else. I need soldiers on the front-line shooting fat cells before they strike. I’m skurrred if I go off FAT will win World War 53. My solution…the same as always…the Scarlett O’Hara method…I’ll worry about that tomorrow.
If you are fat, PHAT or just unhappy with your weight…
Get chu some juice. Being fat is so 1980’s. It’s time. The solution is easy. Talk to your Dr…or 3. Don’t listen to “Karen.” She’s a ho. Could you get a big head and crepey skin? Sure. Could your fat ass also get heart disease and “diabeetus” (said in my best Wilford Brimley voice)..Sure. If it keeps you from grazing like a heifer to the trough we will all thank you….mmmkkkay. If I had it to do all over again I would. Hell yes…. I still am!
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