I stand at work, miserably full. I have just come from the employee cafeteria, which is normally stocked with, at best, semi-edible food. Before I continue, I must admit that I initially spelt "stocked" like "stalked." And now I have yet another confession, every time I type the word "spelt," I immediately double-check that the word actually exists via Dictionary.com. Turns out every time I look it up, it's still a word. Anyway, back to my story...today our cafeteria was surprisingly stocked with relatively delicious food. By the time I took my break, there was one egg roll left, which was more than enough fried goodness for me, as well as an abundance of this chicken stir-fry of sorts. It was so salty and delicious, I decided I could have a very generous helping. Followed by an even more generous helping. Followed by yet another (and perhaps most generous) helping. Yup, the girl who recently told you she was recommitting to The Pledge ate three helpings of cafeteria stir fry with virtually no hesitation. Sure, I thought to myself, "The first excessive portion was probably enough." But the devil-portion of my conscience (aka fat Jackie) was shouting "MUST EAT STIR-FRY" so loud I couldn't hear a damn thing the increasingly meek, health-conscious Jackie was trying to get out. This triple-portion meal was the perfect way to conclude a weekend of un-Pledgelike behavior. Last weekend was supposed to be the last of my glutton-fests, but this weekend was just as bad, if not worse.
I started writing this edition of The Pledge so long ago, I can't even remember how many gluttonous weekends I've had since. What I do know is that I've deemed literally every Monday in February a "new beginning" or a "fresh start." I said I was starting anew Monday the 6th after a fun-filled fat-Jackie weekend... I sad I'd recommit again Monday the 13th after an equally unhealthy weekend... and I said "enough is enough" yet again Monday the 20th after a, you guessed it, horribly un-Pledgelike weekend. And the Monday-Friday routine hasn't exactly been the healthiest either. What does a girl need to do to reboard the Pledge-wagon and lose these last 10-12 lbs?! Perhaps eat a fried Snickers... or maybe even half of one would do the trick!
I've said it once and I'll say it again, I have absolutely no will power after a long and annoying night of work. This normally isn't an issue, as there's not typically a lot of food just chillin' around the hotel. But it was an issue last night when a group of guests shared their leftover Mexican food. Remember how I said I was going to stop eating red meat until the end of The Pledge?! Well, for whatever reason, I didn't consider the steak fajitas they gave us red meat (I have since given up red meat for Lent... While I'm definitely not Catholic, I've almost always effectively given up something each Lenten season). And nothing was going to stop me from eating some leftover enchiladas! I was already feeling a bit disgusted with myself after my little food-fiesta when I saw what appeard to be a container full of burritos. "Who needs a burrtio?" I asked myself. But these weren't burritos... these weren't burritos at all. They were FRIED SNICKERS. The fat kid inside of me has always wanted to try a fried Snickers. Luckily my coworker Michelle and I shared this deliciously American treat, but nevertheless I ate deep-fried candy last night. I think that's rock bottom for a wayward "dieter." At least I hope it is...
So I attempt to start anew yet again, but this time on a Thursday (as I've obviously had no luck with Mondays). And there's no better day to recommit than a GAGAerobics-Thursday!!! I'm so in love with the fact that I've found a fun and healthy hobby to do with friends, lovers, strangers, teachers... anyone who cares to join! Consider this yet another invitation to do so... we GAGAcise at 6:30 every Tuesday and Thursday night at Sotto!!!
On a more somber note, I've recently started reading Marya Hornbacher's Wasted: A Memior of Anorexia and Bullimia. It is a horrifyingly fascinating account of a young woman's life all but destroyed by eating disorders. At just nine years old, Hornbacher began purging. Her every childhood memory revolves around food... literally every one of them. Having not lived with something so consuming, it is impossible for me to articulate these struggles. I've always felt that having an eating disorder is like being haunted by a horrendous demon, but this book conveys a life riddled with anorexia and/or bulimia as an even more intense, lifelong experience. Reading this book is as close as I'll ever get to being inside the mind of an anoretic and/or bulimic, and I'm realizing that living with these disorders is a virtual hell on earth.
Of all the intense situations recounted in this book, there's one particular occurrence I'd like to discuss. If I remember correctly, Hornbacher is roughly 14 years old and at the height of her bulimia. She's sitting in detention eating a bag of chips when her hippy and likely overweight teacher wags her finger and says, "A moment on the lips, forever on the hips." I'm praying to GAGA that those of you who work with young, impressionable minds (or ever come into contact with them, for that matter) NEVER SAY ANYTHING LIKE THIS. As for those of us who don't, I'm begging that we don't say shit like this to each other! This seemingly innocent comment could be enough to spiral even the most secure of people into some weird state of self doubt and spur thoughts of body dysmorphia. GAGA only knows the unhealthy weightloss means one might adapt upon hearing such comments...
Why would anyone ever say something like that anyway?! Just to feel better about the fried Snickers they ate yesterday?! I'm gonna keep preaching for a bit, so I encourage you to skip to the next paragraph if you're sick of Jacko's lil' soap box rants. Anyway, we live in a culture where women (especially) are conditioned to constantly long to be thinner. What I find so sick about it all is that we put this pressure upon each other... It's not just our media-poisoned society, which I'm always so quick to blame, that's culpable. It's as if we think it's some big competition. Rather than banning together and encouraging one another to get healthy, we cackle when that bitch from high school gets fat. And I'm just as guilty as the next chick of participating in these little "Haha-she's-fatter-than-me-now" cackle fests. I don't care how much of a bitch she may or may not have been... as my roommate Morgan pointed out, we shouldn't wish fatness upon our worst enemies. Weight-gain not only compromises one's physical health, but it has obvious implications on one's mental well-being. The torture one could inflict upon themselves in response to weight-gain or even just snarky lil' belittling comments is so ridiculously unnecessary.
Being healthy is not a competition. I'm sick of that bull shit. I want even the bitchiest of all bitches to be healthy and feel good about themselves (after all, there's likely a reason he or she is such a bitch).
Here's hoping I didn't misspell hoards of words throughout this horribly rambling and preachy rant. And GAGA only knows how uneducated I sound when trying to wrap my head around perplexing things like eating disorders. But I think I've come to a bit of a conclusion... As Americans, we are not encouraged to be healthy. We are convinced we must be thin. Healthy and thin are not synonymous. If they were, we wouldn't see the quest to be thin in such a competitive manner. At some point, I'm sure a lot of us have said, "I'm skinnier than her, right?!" I, however, highly doubt you've find yourself asking whether you're healthier than that same person. I will finally conclude perhaps the preachiest of all Pledges with an excerpt from Hornbacher's memoir. She addresses how her struggle with eating disorders has turned her into a dual-figure of sorts. She also touches on the presence of that constant longing to be perpetually thinner. But first, I must ask... after this ridiculous post will anyone ever read The Pledge of Glory again?!
"My double image, the evil skinny bitch who hisses, Don't eat. I'm not going to let you eat. I'll let go as soon as you're thin, I swear I will. Everything will be okay when you're thin." - Marya Hornbacher's Wasted: a Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia
Love. Peace. GAGAerobics.
Jackie
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