This week as been filled with some pretty weird weather. It was raining and cold and then yesterday it was so hot that walking at a relaxed pace would have you sweating. I work in a warehouse as a summer job which is all manual labour. I can be pushing hundreds of pounds around for any amount of time. I love it because by the end of every summer I'm jacked, but man is it hard work.
Needless to say on hot days we really feel the heat - and yesterday was one of them. I decided that today I would wear shorts into work to try and avoid becoming overheated. When I was really sick and weighed about half as much as I do now, I could get away with wearing pants to work even during the hottest days. Now that I have considerably more padding than I used to, that isn't really an option anymore.
So I wore shorts to work and it was very difficult. I wanted to run home and change into pants since it didn't turn out to be that hot today anyway. I found myself starting to pick out flaws, feeling judging eyes, pulling them down to try and cover some more of my legs. I could hear ED screaming "CELLULITE!!!!" "Blubber!!!!!" "Cover it up!!!!" I noticed even more cellulite than I ever had before. I just wanted to cover it up. I could feel my legs jiggle every time I took a step and I knew that they are coming closer and closer together, diminishing the thigh gap that I had worked so hard to achieve. "You're disgusting!" "How can you stand yourself?!" "Cover those oversized sausages up!" All. Day. Long.
Last week one of the other students at work had gotten a sun burn on her shoulders and didn't want to wear the safety shirts or vests that we had been given because it would irritate them, and understandably - if I had a sun burn that bad I wouldn't be in much of a hurry to put any kind of fabric over top of it. Instead she wore a bright orange tank top that was within the safety rules and was in no way inappropriate (in terms of having her boobs hang out). No one had a problem with it except one grumpy old lady we work with who decided to tell her that she couldn't wear it and that she would get in trouble - which she didn't.
All day I was waiting for her to come up to me and tell me that the shorts were too short and that I couldn't wear them. When she got mad at the student, the whole warehouse was on the students side because there was absolutely nothing wrong with the tank top. I was certain that if I was given shit that no one would be behind me because it's not even like I look good in them anyway. I was terrified of this happening all day.
A couple of people at work noticed and I wanted to run away. I saw them look - not in a creepy way - and was so uncomfortable. "They're thinking the same thing I'm telling you! They're just too nice to say it - you're fat!!!". And I got to hear that all day long. All. Day. Long.
GAH this sucks -_-
Till next time,
A very tired fighter