"Oh, Fortuna, blind, heedless goddess, I am strapped to your wheel," Ignatius belched.
"Health note: Astonishing weight increase, due no doubt to the anxiety which my dear mother's increasing unpleasantness is causing me. It is a truism of human nature that people learn to hate those who help them. Thus, my mother has turned on me.
Suspendedly,
Lance, Your Besieged Working Boy"
--- Ignatius J. Reilly, A Confederacy of Dunces ---
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Diary of a Fat Kid:
Most of my life, I've had to endure a barrage of comments from my parents about my larger than average body stature. And, for most of my life, these comments have served as astronomic blasts to my confidence... launching me into a perpetual state of unwavering self-loathing in which I make a mockery of myself in an attempt to laugh with them, instead of having them laugh at me. Somehow, it's supposed to hurt less if I can make the jokes before someone else can. I haven't quite mastered this art. And, it isn't as if I don't know it's a problem. I've struggled with weight and food my entire life.
There has never been a positive interpretation of this vicious circle...
...Until now.
Alas, now, I am uncovering the PERKS of being a fat kid.
It seems that my parents have become so disgusted by my plump figure that they are willing to go to great measures to "fix" me. This includes the recent purchase of treadmill of my very own, to be used in the privacy of my apartment.
Yes, kids... I now own a treadmill -- a big, honking piece of steel for which I really don't have any space.
Don't get me wrong. I am very happy. I will use this treadmill to my advantage. I welcome the opportunity to enhance my physical wellness, as I have never been very pleased with my fitness. (I've already worked out today.) But, I have to laugh at the merits which earned me this gift. It's because... I'm a fat kid.
Please, bear in mind... my parents do not contribute to my life financially, emotionally, academically -- pretty much any "-ally" you can think to throw at me.
And so, for the remainder of my days (or at least until the treadmill breaks down, and I don't have the fiscal means to repair it,) I will use my fat kid elimination device in a mocking display of my parents continuing disapproval and loathing for the person that I am. Thank goodness, for once, my deprecation will have a positive contribution to my life, as I begin my journey down the road of healthy living.
Thank you. This has been another edition of "Kristina's Never-ending Dysfunctional Family Saga," brought to you, in part, by... The Council for Journal-Writing Therapy... and... Citizens for Comfort Eating to Repress the Emotional Instability Caused by Inept Parental Units.
The End.
Sardonically,
Jiggy, Your Disheartened Work-Out Girl
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"...And even though the moment passed me by, I still can't turn away. 'Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose got tossed along the way. And letters that you never meant to send get lost or thrown away. And now we're grown up orphans that never knew their names. We don't belong to no one. That's a shame. But if you could hide beside me, maybe for a while, and I won't tell no one your name. And I won't tell 'em your name. Scars are souvenirs you never lose, the past is never far. Did you lose yourself somewhere out there? Did you get to be a star? And don't it make you sad to know that life is more than who we are? You grew up way too fast, and now there's nothing to believe. And reruns all become our history. A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio, and I won't tell no one your name. And I won't tell 'em your name. I won't tell 'em your name. I won't tell 'em your name. I think about you all the time, but I don't need the same. It's lonely where you are -- come back down, and I won't tell 'em your name..."
--- Goo Goo Dolls ---