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I once had a flat stomach

Saturday, June 27, 2020

I took my once flat stomach for granted. I remember clearly signing up to the gym, ready to finally get my ass into gear, have a “good body” and I told my trainer my goal was a flat stomach. He looked at me incredulously and said “I don’t think it could get much flatter.”

Ah, how we never appreciate what we have when we have it. After getting diagnosed, and being put on meds, I gained 60 pounds in less than 6 months. Maybe it was the speed in which this occurred, but I didn’t really see myself as a big person. I knew I had gained, but I thought to myself I’m still, like, ya know super small.

During one inpatient visit a tech watched me flail on workout equipment during our designated gum time.
“You know if you lost some weight you’d have a good body,” he told me, most unprofessionally.

I had reverse body dysmorphia, where I still saw myself as tiny and his words were like cold water on my face. Oh. I’m fat now.

It was quite the transition, going from 85 pounds to 150. It shocks me still, after the fact. I feel it’s imperative for doctors to warn patients of the possibility of rapid weight gain, but maybe because it’s such a chore to get them to take their damn meds in the first place they willingly choose to neglect certain unfavorable information.

Still. A little warning would have been nice.

Now, though, I am fighting back. Being put on zyprexa, incidentally the most notorious of them all, actually fueled my fire to once again have that damn flat stomach. I WILL be the exception, I tell myself, I WILL lose. And I have, how much is unknown because we don’t own a scale, but my clothes are loose my stomach is shrinking though far from flat.

Every morning I walk around the neighborhood, pumped up by Britney Spears telling me to “work, bitch” on an infinite loop. Yes, bitch. I want a hot body. I gotta work “like it’s my profession.”

And maybe it is. Being a disabled housewife means I should have a clean house, home cooked meals and a hot body. Honestly, it’s the least I can do.

So I will get there, I feel rather certain. I have lost my taste for fast food, I have successfully stuck with intermittent fasting, giving myself a mere 8 hr window to eat three healthy meals, and I exercise nearly every day. If this doesn’t work, well, I guess I will just throw myself off a bridge.

All I know is I will never, ever again take my body and my physical health for granted.

Like, I really could have appreciated not having crows feet every time I smile. Ya know. Just a little bit? But anyway...I will report back when I have a flat stomach. It’ll happen, mark my words. Even on zyprexa.

Or else, ya know, back to the bridge I go.
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