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My Thin Evil Twin

In my entire 44-and-a-half years of life, the closest I ever got to my ideal weight was within 10 pounds in the summer of 1989, after a solid year of white-knuckling-it in program.  It lasted a 3 whole months.  And that was just enough time for me to meet…

. . . MY THIN EVIL TWIN ! ! !

She was NOT a nice person at all.  She had so much pent-up anger inside of her that it’s amazing she didn’t do any real damage in the short time she was around.  She did, however, manage to take out her frustrations on many people with her miserable attitude.  Most notably, she was a real jerk to guys she met in clubs – – as if they were the ones to blame for keeping her trapped in her prison of fat for all those years before.  If a guy asked her to dance, she would turn him down with a rude look or a sarcastic comment,…when only months earlier she would have given anything for any one of them to pay her some attention.  But that’s what she was so angry about!  Wasn’t she still the same exact person inside?!  Then why was everyone treating her so differently now?!  Obviously it was because of her weight!  How SHALLOW!!  And she resented this with every fiber of her being!  How DARE they think they could be so rude to her last year and then be so nice to her THIS year and think she would be OKAY with that!  Now she would show THEM!!  She made it her mission to try to make every single one of them feel the embarrassment and shame that she had felt every time she was the fattest girl in the joint.  No one would ask her to dance.  No one would even talk to her, even if they were all over her thin friends, and many times, she heard the cruel remarks.  So she felt she was owed this.

Of course, it never for a moment entered her vengeful mind that perhaps all this attention had more to do with her newly-found self-confidence which allowed her to dance like a normal person (rather than just sulk in the shadows), and to wear sexier clothes, and to put some extra time and effort into her hair and make-up.  Or that perhaps the club scene was not exactly the best place to meet a “nice guy” no matter WHAT size she was.

Or that…perhaps…SHE was the problem all along.

 

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June 4, 2012 This post was written by Categories: Tales of Terror: My Days as an Active Addict Tagged with: • • •
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