Confessions of a fat girl.

Hey chicas. I know it's been a long long LONG time and I'm sorry. I have neglected this blog beyond common courtesy. But that's over with, isa, and I want to post a couple of pages I have written from a book that I'd like to finish.

Confessions of a Fat Girl

Oh. My. God. Oh no. This canNOT be happening. I gingerly opened my eyelids and looked down. Oh, this is definitely happening. The needle was still pointing resolutely to the very ugly number of 168. I sucked in my stomach, still at dang 168.

"Jenna?" The worried voice of my mother cut through my panicking thoughts. "How's it going?"

My cheeks redden as I exhale loudly. "It's fine, mom." I step off the scale and collapse onto the cold edge of the bathtub. 168. 168.168? How in the freaking world did I get to 168 pounds?

"So?" My mom called outside the locked bathroom door. Great. Almost forgot about mom. Almost. She's the reason I'm even in this situation. Who knew that my mom could bully me into weighing myself. I heave myself off the bathtub, slip into my nondescript gray sweatpants which has become my best friend in the last couple of weeks, and knead my forehead.

"So what?" I call back to my mother in a flippant tone which I desperately hope to mask my trepidation. The bright fluorescent lights beat their way through my head pounding the same message over and over, slowly building up pressure.

I'm....fat. No way to smmoth over the truth, I don't have "baby fat", I'm not slightly chubby, or voluptuous. I'm faaaaaat. Lord above help me.