How selfish....

...of me. Really. Actually, it's more than selfishness; it's almost a self protecting kinda thing that i do that isn't attractive at all. And i'm doing it more and more often to make myself feel better. I am horrified afterwards, and embarrassed but that doesn't keep me from doing it again and again.

I compare myself to people on TV. I know, i know, a lot of people do. But i don't compare myself to the beautiful people or the famous people, or even the skinny beautiful people. I compare myself to the morbidly obese people that i find. Most of these folks, i find on the medical channel in situations where they are usually fighting for their lives because of their obesity. They are women and men who started off as children, normal (and sometimes chubby) and became obese. These men and women weigh from 400+ to over a thousand pounds and who struggle daily not only to live but to understand why. Why they are the way they are. How they go to be the way they are. And most of all, if they can change.

One of the women who i watched on a show made an online appeal to doctors to do weight loss surgery on her. Amy had a computer that she would rest on her chest as she laid in bed; she no longer could leave her bed. But her makeup was perfect, her nails, done. And i thought the thought that i always think about me: "she would be beautiful if she lost weight". But, no one would touch her because of her weight. Amy was just too overweight for any doctor to take the risk that she would die. But she would die, she felt, if she didn't have this done. This young woman, who had children, was almost over a thousand pounds. The show hit upon her feelings, how she felt about her weight, how she knew she was addicted to food and how she didn't want to die. She worried about her children, about their health. Finally, a doctor responded to her plea and did the surgery. She came out of surgery and seemed in high spirits. And then, her heart couldn't take the demands of surgery....and this beautiful, young woman who was also a mother, died.

I was completely, overwhelmingly, stunned....and then angry. Angry at Amy. Angry because she died. Angry because she had done this to herself. Angry because people who loved her, brought food to her that they shouldn't have. Angry because her daughter was now mother-less. Angry because she ate herself to this point. Angry because she had waited too late to take care of herself. And very, VERY angry....because i could be Amy.

I could be Amy.

But then, i started what i usually do: i started to rationalize.

After all, "i" wasn't almost a thousand pounds. "I" was able to get out of bed. "I" was healthier than "she" was. I was smarter than "she" was because "i" wouldn't let myself get to where "she" was. "I" could lose weight IF "i" wanted to.

Right? "I" wasn't Amy....

But i knew in my heart that i was an Amy in the making.

It scares me every day to know that there is really no difference between Amy and i. I, slowly, am eating my way along to a unhealthy, deadly place. And i am scared that i don't know how to stop, that i am not strong enough to stop eating. That i am not strong enough to get myself healthy. That i won't do the hard work that it takes.

And i will become Amy...