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My Weight gain (continued)


Jellingtonboot

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In my last post I gave a broad summary of my weight gain. In this part I will delve deeper into it.

Trying to get a job.

I found it hard to find work after college. I have a degree in spa management, but like most careers, I couldn't just start in management.

The only available job in my area for someone with no experience, is a beautician.

I prepared my C.V., sent them out to prospective employers, and waited.

Eventually a few called back, each sounded impressed with my C.V., and I attended the interviews.

I never heard anything back.

One night after smoking a slightly too strong joint, I lay in bed contemplating my life.

Why aren't they calling me back?....

It was because I was fat.

No one wants a fat beautician.

The sudden realisation of why made me feel sick.

I was around 200Ibs at the time. I was also still strongly in denial about my weight.

They didn't see me for me, they saw a fat girl.

I became really depressed.

I kept eating all the time, small snacks here and there. It all went straight to my belly.

Up until about 200Ibs, my fat distributed itself around me fairly evenly. Not too much in any one place.

But then my belly took centre stage. It seemed to grow everyday.

You may be thinking, "how could she just watch herself get fat, and not do anything about it?"

I was depressed and in denial. I kept saying that I would go back to the gym next week, or start a diet, and give up after a day or two, because I would always find a justifiable reason to give up, usually emotional.

My mother and older sister have always been really fat. Fat genetics must run in the family.

The second I moved back from college to the rural community I live in, I started gaining weight.

The nearest gym is twenty miles away. I don't drive either.

All of this accumulated, no job, no car, no gym, nothing to do everyday.

I gained another ten pounds in what seemed like a week.

It seemed to have gone straight to my lower belly, the part below the belly button.

It was the final piece in the fat bitch puzzle.

My sister and to a far greater extent my mother, had always had big lower bellys, jutting out, defineing itself as a seperate part. I always mocked my sister for having it. I called it her 'fat bag'.

Skinny peoples bellys don't look like two parts, fat peoples do.

This leaves you with two options, either let your belly hang down below the waist of your pants, or pull your pants up as far as your belly button.

I pulled my black tights up to my belly button. Fully feeling the symbology behind it.

I looked into the mirror and there it was, my own personal 'fat bag'.........

 

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