I have lost a grand total of eight inches off of my waistline. My neck is one and a half inches smaller; in fact, I have a neck! I'm 189 pounds now, compared to my once 244 pounds. Mybiceps are bigger and my gut is smaller and I feel healthier and overall my whole body has changed drastically in the last six months. Despite the fact that I know that all these things have changed, I am having a tough time seeing it. My friends have called me the chronic fat chick.

You see, when I look in the mirror, I don't really see any difference between November 2007 me and Juneish 2008 me. I look the exact same. Even though every single person I know has made a comment about the way I look, I simply cannot see the change. I can reason the change. I understand that wearing a 32" pair of jeans is smaller than the size 38's or 40's I was wearing. I understand that a size medium t-shirt, is smaller than and extra large. I get that. So yes, I know that I am smaller, but I can't see it. I still point at my love-handles, my gut, my man-boobs, and my butt and say, "geeze, I wish I could change that."

Laura keeps calling me "so little." I don't see it.

Crashpad Katie says that I have Body Dysmorphic Disorder: the fat chick syndrome. Katie would know, because she used to be a fat chick. Apparently, boys can suffer from poor body image too. I certainly don't believe that I suffer from BDD to the extent of cutting off my remaining love handles with a butter knife, but I can sympathize with the people who suffer from Fat Chickness. It's hard. When your self image has been so terrible for so long, it's hard to believe anything different, even if the truth is readily apparent: like loosing fifty-five pounds on a scale or eight inches off your waist. The brain is a funny thing.