Monday, January 21, 2008
I am feeling fat. (This is the time all you male bloggers inwardly groan and sidle off in case I ask you if my bum looks big or something).
I am feeling fat and unattractive and generally horrid and imagining myself hideous to the opposite sex.
I don't like feeling like this.
I can talk to myself about self image, confidence, goddess curves ... all the logical thinking stuff ... till I am blue in the face but it makes no difference to how I feel.
I feel fat and horrid. No man in his right mind would look at me with desire, noooo surreeeee. They would simply say, "hey there's a fat bird" and unless they liked plump pillows of fun then they would turn aways and have a whistle at some leggy blond with a svelte figure - rather like me about 2 years ago.
I like to think of myself as a champion of 'real' women. But there is too much real flesh on my bones at the moment and I don't like it.
I knew things were bad when I could not concentrate on my clients today. All I could think about was being second best. Not good enough, not attractive enough and too fat. Not a good place at all.
Problem is ... no kind of external soothing works at all.
I really really don't want to get on the weight watchers treadmill in spite of lurking suspiciously on their website for at least 15 minutes.
What can cure me? Shifting a good stone? - having someone fancy me? - a week long retreat with right wing lesbians? ... who knows!!
Guess I will just have to emerge from this one myself - embrace Paul Mckenna and get my body moving.
Sorry to rant - I feel a teensy weensy bit better for doing so - I appreciate your indulgence :o)