I feel totally fat right now. There I said it. I know it sound ridiculous but it's how I feel! I was starving all day but too busy at work to think about it and Eddie made a yummy cheesy pasta dish for dinner and I ate too much. It was really good and I had seconds, I rarely have seconds. I felt ok, until I decided to go for a run and drank water. Then I started feeling really full and gross. When I look in the mirror, I look fat too. It's all in my stomach, bloated and chubby. I picture all the food I ate going straight to my stomach and depositing itself there as fat. Stupid...I know...and gross. I have always had issues with my stomach. I have always, since I can remember wanted a tight, muscular stomach. I don't have a bad stomach, but it has always been a little too mushy to me, and a little too round. It doesn't matter how much I run or how many sit-ups I do, I can't get rid of that layer of fat on my stomach!
Anyways, back to my story, before you continue, if you want to read the story from the beginning please visit the About Me page.
When I was eight years old my dad met my future step-mom. My dad had dated several women during my life. All very nice, some with kids, some without. But nothing really happened of those relationships. This one was different though, this lady had two kids as well and she loved being a mom. She welcomed my brother and I with open arms and showed us more love and attention than any of my father's past girlfriends ever did. I liked it at first, she was nice, and she had a little two year old daughter that I absolutely loved. But to me, she was just like my dad's other girlfriends, someone he spent time with, but no one that would ever really be a part of my life.
Then they got married. I was taken from my home, my friends, and everything I had known and loved in Fremont, and moved to a foreign town. They took away my dog, Kissy, which was particularly devastating to me. I had begged and begged my dad for a dog and I loved our little Pomeranian so much. Of course, my dad was the one who actually had to take care of the little pain in the butt, so I don't think he was too upset to get rid of him. I also had to go to a new school where I didn't know anyone. I had to start over. There were upsides to this drastic change to my life as well. I was good at making friends and I made new ones fast and I absolutely loved having a little sister. Natasha, my new little sister was so much fun and she adored me as much as I adored her. I would dress her up and play with her hair and I taught her how to draw and bake. I loved her so much.
There are also things about my step mom that I am grateful for. She loved to cook. She cooked healthy and always encouraged us to cook with her in the kitchen. If it weren't for her I would never have learned how much I love to cook. I will always be thankful for that. But I didn't want a new mom, I was still waiting, wishing, hoping that my real mom would come through for me. Gradually, my step-mom started getting more involved in my life and started acting more like my mom. She even made us call her mom. (She swears I asked her if I could call her mom, but that is not how I remember it!) The more she pushed her way into my life, the more I shied away. I began to hate her, but she was strong and very opinionated, and I was scared of her. She started telling me how my mom didn't want me and how I was better with her and my father and I shouldn't see my mom anymore. They would make us write letters to my mom saying we didn't want to visit her on the weekend. I so desperately desperately needed my mom, and here I was pushing her away against my will! My step mom was really into talking about "feelings" as well, only not our real feelings, she would force us to talk about how much our "other parent" hurt us and how "angry" we were with them. She had this term she would use, "upside-down." If we mis-behaved in any way, we were "upside-down" because we were so angry with our other parent and the only way to calm us down was to hold us down with force while we struggled to get away. They would squeeze us so tight we couldn't breath until we admitted how angry we were with our other parent. This was definitely the darkest part of my life.
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