Until I bought a computer, I was a size zero...but hey, that's only the old (mid 80's) UK size 10. Now, I'm a size 20 and weigh 90kilos, whatever that is in proper money.
But let's look at what's happened...always prone to depression, back then I was a neurotic skinnie minnie who thought I was fat (eating disorder from 13 to 21), was always fidgeting, masked my inner despair by smoking 50 fags a day and rarely sleeping, would often stay up all night to create some divine fancy dress frock, or a hat. As you do...
When I fell pregnant with DD1, I was 47 kilos. Regained pre-preg weight. Regained it after DD2 as well. Then I got married, depression got worse, never lost preg weight gain after DD3, DD3 contracted meningitis and was on a life support machine, my weight went up;
DH has sex drive of a giant panda - makes me feel unwanted and unloved, he won't kiss me but a chocolate bar will. He has affair with the cnut lady next door...weight (and smoking) go up...but whilst mending our marriage, DS is made. I stop smoking...weight goes up more.
Throughout this time, pissing around on't'internet to take my mind elsewhere has made me sedentiary, I develop asthma due to our rented flat being riddled with damp and mould, hello steroids. Also, my hypermobile joint chickens come home to roost, and I go from being able to cross my legs behind my head to being barely able to move some days, developing SPD in my last two pregnancies.
Finally, the strain of living next door to a complete psycho (who by this time was stalking and harassing me), what DH did, living in a dangerous and overcrowded shithole...well, the depression hit rock bottom and I finally relented and begged my GP for the anti-depressants he'd been trying to give me since I was 17. (He can shove the counselling though) Weight shot up.
Managed to move house, but some things just don't leave you. My DD3 will always be horrifically scarred because of that bastard disease, I will always have in the back of my mind what DH and so called best friend/neighbour did, and simply cannot move sometimes...my joints are agony and sometimes, I cannot even raise my arms above my head to get dressed.
So, today, I'm a fatty fatty boom boom. I no longer smoke (after 25 years hardcore nicotine chasing), but am still on the happy pills. While I'm trying to keep my head above water happy-wise, I simply don't have the willpower to lose weight right now.
All of the above is how this size zero sexy chick (I always though I was an ugly old boot though) who was small and bendy enough to be a magician's assistant for a while, turned into a fat, hideous beast who, some days, just can't move.