I wonder if anyone thinks about my weight as much as I assume they think about my weight. I’m pretty sure if they did, they would get little else done in their lives. But I cannot help obsessing anyway.
Work is a big part of my life. I spend 40+ hours a week at my job (as do most people, dur) and anytime I talk to someone I can’t help wondering how much they are thinking about my size. Do they remember that I lost weight a couple months ago? Do they see that picture on my shelf and realize how big I am now compared to my wedding day? Do they remember that I was a thin person when I started working there 10 years ago? Are they wondering why I wear practically the same thing day after day? Do they hear that it’s difficult to breathe? If I put my arm this way, does it hide my stomach at all? And on and on it goes.
I should know that they don’t really think of it all that often. They might have fleeting thoughts here and there, they might even feel sorry for me, but that’s probably it.
That’s probably it.
So why is it that I can’t stop focusing on what they might be thinking. And it’s just not coworkers, of course. It’s everyone I come into contact with. Other parents, neighbors, my family. Especially anyone I had a weight loss conversation with, for sure. And to be honest, sometimes it keeps me in the house, keeps me from joining in when I should. I can’t help thinking that the world is too cruel when my house is safe and only mildly judgmental. The trouble is that staying home makes me even lazier and going out makes me feel even more uncomfortable. No good really comes from either of it.
My happiness is directly linked to how much I weigh, whether I am at home or at work, at the store or in the car. It doesn’t matter. I’m just not happy. And since I think about it all the time, the thoughts breed and further pollute my life.
I have to make changes now because time's a-wasting!