I don’t like to weigh myself because numbers are depressing. When I was in high school I ranged from weighing 110 lbs to 120 lbs. I was super skinny. People used to ask me if I ate. And I did eat, I was just anxious all the time and eating was a challenge. I never had an eating disorder but I did vomit bile in the mornings during my senior year at F.H. LaGuardia High School before I went off to school. Well, actually that’s not how the routine went exactly. I’d wake up, feel like my heart was going to explode out of my chest, and I was scared to open my eyes. But I made myself do it. I was immediately nauseated by the influx of (what I didn’t know then was) cortisol and stress hormones. I threw up bile until my stomach settled. Then I ate oatmeal, which my mom made me and I did mindfulness meditation guided by Jon Kabat-Zinn where he told me how to be a mountain. With Jon’s guidance I was able to face the day. In college I gained 15 lbs, except not in Freshman year, it was in Sophmore year, when my¬†Katrina’s mother would send us brownies frosted with chocolate frosting.

This was supposed to be about pants.

Anyway, after college I eventually had children, and the weight never went away. I’ve become attached to elastic pants. I have these fancy yoga/dress pants and I wear them every day, because they are more comfortable on my belly. I’ve never had a belly in my entire life. And now, I can’t get rid of it. I want my pants to be smaller. I have started doing Tae Kwon Do and I walk¬†five miles a day. I hope that I can buy pants that don’t showcase my belly. But I blame anxiety and depression for fucking up my metabolism.