This morning I cried. There was nothing else to do. I went to reach for my favorite fat girl and bloated period jeans out the pile of jeans I just washed, pulled them passed my calves, thighs, and hips. As I went to button them up they didn't want to meet up to complete the task. Oh my God! I went to reach for another pair of jeans and they met with the same fate. All I could do was cry. Did I gain that much weight in a week? Did the machine shrink my jeans up? Was it a bit of both? I regrabbed my favorite used to be fat girl baggy jeans and literally laid on the floor and shimmied to put them on!
I've been doing the right things for the most part so I don't know why I con't to go in the wrong direction. I can't afford new clothes. I won't buy new clothes.
I looked in the mirror at this figure that was still very pretty, just massive. What was beautiful curves last week became nasty lard. Am I witnessing myself become one of those people who can't get out the bed on their own? The thought alone scares me.