My Mother Strikes Again

Hey All, So after my rant about my mother the other day, I was hoping that I would be spared her bullshit for awhile.  I don’t know why I was foolish enough to believe that. This morning, my mother came downstairs to finish reorganizing HER basement. We were talking because she had tasked me with finding her cheap health insurance. I went through the government’s website and I couldn’t find a plan with a monthly premium that was cheap enough for her and sadly she doesn’t qualify for medicare. After my mother informed me several times that she couldn’t afford … Continue reading My Mother Strikes Again

That Wretched Woman

It’s official. I hate my mother.  I hate her. We have only been living together for two weeks and I hate her and I don’t want to speak to her or see her for at least a year.  If you follow me on Twitter, you have been privy to my rants about my mother.  I hate feeling this way about my mother. It is so complicated. She’s my mother so I will always love her, but they way that she keeps attacking me, the way that she flips every disagreement (no matter how small) to a dig about my weight, … Continue reading That Wretched Woman

I Think Overachieving Made Me Fat

Hey All, I don’t know if I have ever thought of myself as an overachiever. When I think of overachievers I think of Steve Urkel types. I think of geniuses. I think of straight A students. I was never the top student in my high school class. I mean I graduated in the top five percent of my class, but I wasn’t the valedictorian or the salutatorian. I struggled in college.  I was struggling with a mental illness and I was working two jobs as well as carrying a load of five classes a semester.  I was a double major. … Continue reading I Think Overachieving Made Me Fat

I Wasn’t Always a Fatty

  I went up to my nieces’ bedroom today to see their new bunk beds.  Because we live in my mom’s house, their room is filled with family pictures that my mom has collected throughout the years.  I came across this picture of an 11 year old me during an family vacation to Barbados in 1987.  I remember that vacation very well.  It was a very important summer for me. I had just finished a hellish year in sixth grade where I was bullied constantly.  I had been looking forward to that vacation for awhile.  I hadn’t been to Barbados … Continue reading I Wasn’t Always a Fatty