We are 72 hours from departure and I have broken down. A total tantrum, tears and all. If I wasn’t already sitting on the floor of my empty bedroom I would have flung myself down and pounded my fists into the floor. The effect would have been lost on my mother though due to our conversation being on FaceTime.
It all began with the hunt for an iPad cover (which, by the way, are freaking’ expensive and ugly for what they are.) The breakdown’s main point came when I was trying on bras; not an experience I enjoy at the best of times. I needed some new bras as my current ones are threadbare and no longer support my ample bosom, which has slowly been increasing over the last few months as I have put on a few extra kilos. I blame wine and my inability to curb my drinking which is nearly always accompanied by food in the form of cheese. Anyway this led to a scene in the fitting rooms of Myer where I was told I had increased from an already hefty cup size of 10DD to a 12E maybe 12DD, depending on the bra. I wanted to run from the change room as the sales lady paraded me through a variety of ugly strap-them-down-and-tuck-them-up, made-for-mothers-who-have-breastfed-4-kids-and-are-overweight-and-potentially-need-support-for-their-back-boobies bras. The kind of bras where style and beauty are an afterthought to functionality. This inevitably led to me storming through Myer in a moody silence, grunting at my poor friend who had been fending off my tantrum by basically being my bitch for the day. After exiting Myer she’d had enough and fled to the safety of a tram, leaving me to my seething.
I decided the cure for this issue was to try and purchase myself some black pants. Mistake. After running from yet another changing room near tears at the appalling amount of weight I had put on I begun to make my way home via the coffee shop with the cute boys that always flirt with me. I needed a pick-me-up and I even found a cheap attractive-ish iPad cover at Typo across the road.
This held off the tantrum for about an hour. Then exhaustion and the stress won and I sobbed on FaceTime to my mother. “I am making the biggest mistake ever” “I should never have quit my job, why am I doing this” “I should be taking this money and going to fat camp, not Europe” “No one will like me” “Oh god why did I quit my job?” “Yes I hated my job but…” “I’m so fat” and so it went for about 15 minutes with mascara running down my face and snot hanging from my nose as I wallowed in self pity.
It’s been a few hours now since the breakdown. I’ve had a glass of wine and been out to dinner with friends. I am still exhausted but I have packed my case and I am now tucked up in bed. I still have no idea if I have made the right choice but I’ve made it and I am getting on that plane and I will see what this adventure holds. If I come home in 4 months so be it. I will have had the adventure I set out to have, I will get to see my friend get married, I will experience the Greek islands (a place I have dreamed of visiting for 10 years) and people will like me even if I weigh a few kilos more than usual. Fingers crossed all the walking I will do will cause me to lose weight and don’t European men like their woman a bit curvy any way….