Well. I have struggled with my weight my whole adult life, going from a Women’s size 10 all the way up to a size 18 at one point and now I’m in the size 14-16 category, unhappily. I would be happy to be a size 12, which to me at 5’9” is just fine. I have been exercising and trying to eat right with some almighty challenges here and there, but it seems that I’m still gaining weight!! The psychiatrist, Dr. Drugs, assured me when he handed out the latest round of pills (and the round before this) that the drugs he was putting me on were “weight-neutral” but now I’m not so sure if I believe that. I’m uncomfortable in my clothes and now even my skin is starting to feel like it’s too tight. My favorite boots that I wear all the damn time were nearly impossible to zip up today. You know, when I’m not comfortable in my skin, I’m a miserable bitch. No two ways about it. I just wanna starve myself, exercise myself to death, try all kinds of unhealthy shit that I know ultimately won’t work. The think that makes me batshit crazy is not knowing if the drugs are sabotaging my best efforts!! Are the lamotrigine or oxcarbazepine or the pine-a-pine or zine-a-zine fucking me up? There’s like a rainbow of flavors going down my gullet every morning and then a whole other ration of shit every evening. I don’t know. I’m just very overwhelmed right now. I wish I was a skinny chick who didn’t have to fight this battle along with a couple others on my slate. I think I’ll go to bed. Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up with Anna Nicole Smith’s body. The sexy Guess Jeans one.