MsCezanne's Odyssey

Well, so much for keeping up with this diary!

Some habits die hard, and others seem to take time to develop. Maybe I could write an entry each time I have chocolate… 8 times a day grin.

So what’s new? I’m thinking of looking for a new job. I’m not sure if I’ll wait until I get my new car or not (it’s still on order, how infuriating eh?). But it would certainly be nice to have a secure income, and a nice car to drive around, while looking for a new job.

So the question becomes… what kind of job do I want? Permanent? New field? (Yeah, I’m f’ing tired of administrative work!) Stay in town? I always wanted to live different places, I might end up leaving Toronto.

Which brings us to what happens if I leave Toronto.
I doubt Ian would give up his job. And even if he did, to hear him tell it, there isn’t much outside of Toronto for him. It seems Toronto is the only city that pays those insanely high salary for computer geeks!

Would Ian follow me? Would I follow Ian?

Is the right answer the one that makes me happy? Him happy? Both happy? Both least unhappy? Can be both be content?

That’s a lot of questions, get back to me when you have the answer, okay?

I guess discussing this with Ian will be the best way to get some resolution, but I don’t know where to start, so maybe when he reads this we’ll be going somewhere!

I know Ian would be willing to support me if I wanted to go to school. We’d have to trim costs. Fortunately, we could slash our grocery, clothing and laundry bills. Our budget could probably feed a family of 8! Or a whole village of those kids Sally Fields cries about. (What’s the deal with her or Jan Arden trying to solve world hunger? I’m sure they’re nice, and honestly believe in the cause… but get someone who can see their own toes. I’d never pretend to be a spokesperson for anorexics anonymous or anything.)

Speaking of which, Ian continues his gourmanding ways. (Look who’s talking, I’m fatter than ever too!) He’s upto 334 pounds now. He loves to weigh in once a week and make me guess. I weighed myself today too. At lunch I stopped by a place that does shipping, and got myself weighed. The clerk thought it was a hoot! I could probably charge admission. ‘Come see the amasing expanding Char! Guess her weight, get a free kiss!’

I weighed 451. I have no idea how accurate the scale was, but that is pretty big!

Not long ago, when I was under 400 lbs, I seriously wondered how life would be once I reached 500 pounds! Well, I certainly don’t want to know. 450 is pain in the back enough! I lived the dream, it’s time to reign it in. I’ll find a way to do that. But until then, I’m hungry, lol.

A Third Entry


I must admit, I do enjoy keeping this log. Just seeing it in print, being able to read it at home, at work, at a friend’s place, is very reassuring.

Now if only I could start writing every day J

So on the weekend I spent time with my good friend Jeri, and her daughter (my goddaughter) Amanda. I love them both so much, and certainly treasure my time with them. Amanda is coming up on three, so she’s at that stage where she is ALWAYS asking questions.

I’m more than happy to answer them, being the vast storehouse of knowledge that I am, lol. But the one question really struck me:
“Auntie Char, why do you eat so much?”

How to answer that? I know I eat a lot, I’ve got the grocery bills to prove it! Certainly it is a complex story, and Amanda herself is at the root of it. But that was three years ago, that can’t be the same reason now.

Certainly one reason I eat so much is I’m always hungry. I’m always snacking, chips, cookies, fruit (see, I AM healthy!). It’s just been part of who I am for the past few years.

There’s no point in telling Amanda her mom used to be that way. Jeri has worked so hard, she’s down to 210 lbs! That’s less than when she had Amanda, and… that’s less than HALF of what I weigh (445+). It was a lot of fun back in the day, when I was smaller than Jeri.

It was a lot of fun when I first became larger than Jeri.

It was a lot of fun up until I realised that Ian was getting fat himself. So… the question is why I still eat when it’s not as much fun as it was?

Do I lack willpower? That’s possible.
Do I fear a reversion to anorexia? That’s definitely possible.
Am I doing it to spite Ian? Yes. Though I’m not sure that works, because the more I eat, the more he loves it. I just figure the more I eat, the less there is for Ian. That’s not true, but my subconscious doesn’t seem very bright.

And I hate to blame Ian. It’s not his fault I’m fat. It’s not his fault I’m getting fatter. I’m my own person, and, well, it’s my own damn fault.

But looking at that, you’d think I was miserable. I’m not. I like being fat. It’s not like this happened over night, or unexpectedly. I love to eat. I love the sensations of smell, taste. The sound of something frying, the feeling of a creamy al fredo sauce. The sight of a nice pie, baked just so. I love it all. I’ve loved how my body has changed. Going from that scrawny bone bag to a soft, round, full figured body has been amasing. Those days of going shopping, and admiring the ‘new’ me in a mirror. The days where I realised that I’d outgrown another outfit. Going out to places and realizing that I was just a little to big to sit in a booth at McDonald’s, or that a movie theatre just can’t accommodate me. It’s thrilling to be so far out of social norms. Some people dye their hair, pierce their body, and do other things to separate themselves from society, they try not to fit in. And me… I LITERALLY don’t fit in!

And yet, I’ve gone too far. I do always eat, and that’s a nuisance. I’m hungry, unfocused if I go too long without a snack. And now I truly am getting a little bigger than I’d ever dreamed. 445 lbs is HUGE! There are a lot more places that I can’t fit. It’s a pain in the ass to get around in the ROM. I mean, if I can’t go to museums, then that’s a problem! And while I was previously active, the last few months I’ve become sedentary, it’s a big problem just to get around! I used to be able to shop for hours, but now just 20 minutes and I’m worn out.

And it’s nigh impossible to find a good selection of clothes past size 32, much less at size 36/38!

But then I check myself in the mirror. I do so admire how I look. If I could look this way, but not be tired, not have to embarrassingly squeeze into cultural establishments. I don’t mind the stares I get on the subway. I don’t mind people gawking when I hit the buffet. I enjoy telling family and friends that I don’t mind being fat. I’m like so few people in the world, well, that I know, and I love it!

But I hate it.

I wish I could just turn it off, be fat for a few days a week, or just the evenings.

I wish I wasn’t always hungry, I wish I could always enjoy all the food I want.

I wish I could fit in, I love how I stick out.

I wish I knew what I wanted to do.

I wish I knew why I eat so much!

I was hoping to create a listing of everything that has happened in the last years that happened since I last kept a diary.

But then I realized that a lot has happened, and, well, maybe it’s best left at that. I’ll just put whatever the hell I want here. If I want to recollect some memory from the past, I’ll do that. If I want to bitch about something bugging me today, I’ll do that. If I want to write a poem, solve world hunger or see how many times I can type the word ‘booger’ before I get bored, I’ll do those too!

So, without further ado, here is today’s installment of Charlotte’s Odyssey.

I want to write more about why I’m keeping track of this diary. Life is a series of events. They all happen, whether you want them to or not. You can choose to control the events (or at least try), or just lay back, and enjoy the ride. Well, there is a whole spectrum of midway points, but that’s still the general idea.

I’ve always been a big fan of seeing where life would take me, rather than trying to force life to be what I want it to be. This way I learn more, experience more, and I’m disappointed MUCH less often. (If you don’t want something, then you can’t miss it, right?)

To some people, my life might be a bit of a waste. I never had a steady relationship with a boyfriend (or girlfriend…). I never had anything I’d call a career. My talents go to waste, because I don’t want to play the games needed to use them in the ‘real world’. And, of course, I’ve gained a few pounds.

So, how do I respond to this criticism?

Sure, I never got very close to anyone. But why get close to the wrong person? That can be a big waste of time. Heck, if you spend 5 years with someone JUST to be with someone, that’s worse than seeing 50 people in those same 5 years. Yeah, you know more about them, but it still leads nowhere. If I can’t strike something up quickly, or I get bored, then OBVIOUSLY I’m not with the right person.

On top of that, by dating a variety of people, I’ve learned more. You have to see the world a different way with every person you date. You have to accommodate, you have to negotiate, appreciate in order to have quality time together. The more people you do that with, the easier it becomes, so that when you DO meet better people, it’s much easier to get into things.

Some people would call me an unfulfilled slut. Well, of course, if I was unfulfilled, what else was I supposed to do? Look for fulfillment. Fortunately, I HAVE found fulfillment with Ian. I think (more later…).

I’ve never had a career. I can’t get a job that I like, with people that I like. I guess I find it difficult to be patronized, to be condescended to. And you have to do that in most ‘entry level’ jobs. So you go from job to job, trying to find a place you fit in. Working in a few different industries, with lots of different people, again, is good for getting a better view of the world. Not so good for the pocketbook though!

I really would like a career in the art world. But the ones that can sustain you are so far and few between, and I’ve ticked off too many of the ‘right’ people. I guess I need a new dream.

And the last criticism, is my weight. For a lot of people, their weight is a touchy subject. Even for me, back in highschool, weight was more important than grades it seemed. But not now. I’m 445 pounds, and I’m quite forthcoming with that. To a degree, I’m proud of my weight. I enjoy it! People just don’t seem to understand that.

I’m sure there are some bizarre psychological explanations for my extreme obesity, but I don’t care. Not right now. So how did I get this big?

For the longest time, I was very thin: 110 lbs on a 5’10” body. I was skeletal, and I loved it. Hell, I made fun of fat people! Not just big fat people, but women who were like 160 lbs. How mean is that!?

So what changed? My best friend, Jerica (Jeri) got pregnant. She’s a great friend, smart, active. She always was into sports, she played soccer, she was VERY good at that. We played basketball and volleyball. She was never as thin as me, but she was curvy, trim and relatively muscular (not like bodybuilder, but there was some definition there). She had a tendency to put on a bit of a ‘winter coat’ which I always bugged her about.

But with the pregnancy, it hit her really hard. She’d already broken up with Michael, because he was a cheating louse. The company she worked for went under, shortly after she found out. That’s a whole lot of crap to deal with all at once. So, in a predictable fashion, she sort of retreated from the world, and took control where she could. She ate.

So many things were out of her control, and everyone was telling her to watch what she ate. Rather than bend to anyone’s will, she stood defiantly, and pigged out! It made her feel better. She learned to appreciate food (something that a 125 pound athlete just never really does). She ate treats, it made her feel better. She cooked a good meal for her friends, she felt accomplished.

In many ways, it helped her survive a very harrowing 9 months of her life. Of course, the downside was she did gain a lot of weight. Towards the end of her pregnancy she was a hormonal mess. She had come to depend on the food a little too much. Indeed, she could be a huge pain to be around, unless she was snacking, in which case she was ‘normal’.

So how does this affect me? Well, she really needed her friends then. We were good friends before, but since I had no life then, she turned to me more and more. And I was there for her. We’d been friends, why not become best friends? She needed it, and well, it’s nice to be needed, right?

I saw how her life, her body, had transformed. She was no longer my friend from school. She was a different person. She wasn’t a 125 lb athlete, she was a 200 lb woman who had a desperate love for life that was more important than anything.

It rubbed off on me. She got so much satisfaction from eating. I saw it in her. I wanted that. But also, seeing her new body… the contrast to what it was, to what my body was… I don’t understand exactly, but I found her fat to be intoxicating. It wasn’t long before I was enjoying the same frequent snacks and large meals that she was!

After Amanda was born, to share costs the three of us lived together. That was great for her, she didn’t have to be a ‘single mom’. It was great for Amanda, she had two full time parents. It was great for me, giving me a meaning to my life! Jeri was still in her eating habits, and I was growing into them too. It wasn’t long before she was even bigger than when she was pregnant, it wasn’t long before I was getting pretty soft!

I guess there was this weird synergy. Jeri was already fat, maybe 230 pounds. So she didn’t care. And I was having so much fun that I didn’t care. Hell, we got to go out and buy new clothes, how can that be bad!? The more we ate, the more we could eat. It became a game of one-ups-man-ship. We would eat more at a sitting, we’d have more snacks. It just snowballed.

Eventually Jeri got upto 350 lbs, I was about 250 myself. She realized that she was getting too fat, she wanted to play and run and do things with Amanda, and her size would get in the way. She started to diet.

About this time I’d met Ian. He had the same fascination with me that I’d had with Jerica. He liked seeing me gain weight, to change who I was. We had a lot of other things in common. Since I was still ‘pigging out’ when Jeri was trying to diet, that produced a lot of friction.

But she was doing well at work, and was getting much more support from Ian. They didn’t really need me anymore… so I decided to move in with Ian. Let’s see, if memory serves, I would have been about 340 lbs by then, and Jeri had successfully dieted to 370…

So, now I was living with Ian. I was 340 lbs… that was fat! I was huge, and I loved it, and he loved it J I loved how my body felt. I loved the attention I got.

And with Ian, he spoiled me like never before. He’s smart, educated, has a great job. He could afford to lavish attention and spoil me like I’ve never been before. I was eating VERY well, and VERY often, I loved it!

I’d always secretly dreamed of being the size of Jeri. That started when she was about 200, well, I was way past 200 now, but she was still bigger. But only a few months after I’d moved out, Jeri became quite ill, and dropped weight quickly. And with Ian’s enthusiasm, I was gaining rapidly. It wasn’t long before I was larger than her.

So that brings us to today, Jeri is down to about 220 pounds, and I’m fully twice her size at 445. The whole thing started when she was twice MY size.

Prologue:

I used to keep a diary when I was younger. It held my thoughts of the day, my dreams, my aspirations, my accomplishments.

When I started that, I never really appreciated how well it would help me make sense of my life. Just seeing your thoughts on paper, rereading them, organizing them, it really does force you to reevaluate your day, your activities and your life.

When I started University, I drifted away from my diary. I made maybe 5 entries before time constraints tossed it out the window. That’s ironic, because University was certainly a time I could have used it.

On the other hand, maybe I didn’t need it. My life was changing, but I was letting it change. I didn’t have a goal, a destination, a dream. I just wanted to do school, to have fun, to learn. It wasn’t about ME. It was about the world AROUND me. I like to look back, and see who I was, and who I am. In some ways, I guess I’m glad there is no record of the transformation. It was a special time, reserved for the person I was at the moment. And that’s what university was to me, being a person of the moment. Not looking forward, not looking back.

I’ve been that same girl since then, almost 10 years now. A girl (woman? Now that’s a scary thought!) who never looked forward, never looked back. Someone who just let life live itself, and enjoying the ride.

So what has that gotten me? Well, of course, everything is hard to quantify. I drive a crappy car, but I’m FINALLY getting a new one! I have a crappy job, but I enjoy the people I work with. I had a whole long string of failed relationships, but now I’m with a man I love very much. And… ultimately, I’m become a Fat Girl.

And that’s the point of my new Diary, my Blogg (what the hell does that mean, anyway?). It’s time to look back. It’s time to look forward. It’s time to dream, to aspire to reflect.

With my thoughts in order, then maybe I can get on track. Or maybe discover I AM on track, but can’t see it. Or maybe I’ll find out that I enjoy being off track, and that life is actually very good.

That brings me to the immediate problem at hand. The reason I started this Diary in the first place. I am now fat. I weigh 445 lbs, I’m 5’10” tall. I didn’t get fat over night, and I have to reflect on my life, fat and all.