Archive for the 'Fat' Category

22
Nov
11

I was going to create a new blog, but I am lazy. The LeDonna Lounge has lost it’s liquor license and I had to shut down the opium den. Now it’s tea and Tchaikovsky for this party animal

Hi. My name is LeDonna. I am an alcoholic/addict.

There. I said it, publicly. Well I say it in public already, but in social networking terms.

**sigh** It pains me, but it’s time to come out of the closet.  No, I’m not gay, at least not today. I am referring to accepting and admitting that I have a monkey on my back. (He’s kinda cute though he’s one of those blue-assed baboons you see at the zoo and on the Discovery Channel)

As if no one really knew, right? Spoiler Alert! LeDonna is a batshit crazy alcoholic and drug fiend. (I know, it’s such a surprise, I was always so together and level-headed) I have been for, sadly, most of my life. From the day I started to produce those crazy hormones, I have been addicted to: Something.  I think it started out as food, then sex, then alcohol, then theft, then drugs. Surprisingly never smoking cigarettes, thank God because I can’t even begin to fathom the cost of that beast. Not to mention if I smoked the same way I pursued all my other obsessions, I’d be one of the Marlboro Man’s junkie exes that puffed her way into an early grave. Praise God for asthma. My painfully wimpy lungs actually had my back on that one.

So yeah, back to the drunk part. I recently for the umpteenth time in the past 5 or 6 six years, put my self back into a program of recovery. Why? Well because I’m a drunk **duh!**

I never ever really wanted to label myself as an alcoholic or addict even though over the years I have created countless monstrosities in my life and destroyed just about everything in my world as a result of the consequences of alcohol and drug abuse. And pretty much the whole world knew how bad of a trainwreck I was, I was way too ashamed to talk openly about my struggles, partly due to fear of the stigma, and partly because…well, I never really wanted to entirely quit getting fucked up for the whole rest of my life. I simply could not  fathom not being able to go back home to Houston and party with all my old friends (who sadly, I suspect many of them suffer from alcoholism as well), not being able to go to shows and clubs and bars and happy hour and airplane travel…and never have a drink again. I fucking love to drink. I love getting high. It’s not all about masking pain, it’s a lot about all the “pleasure” I could only seem to derive from altering my mind. It was the only way I could socialize, have any degree of identity or confidence, the only way I could unlock what I thought was the “real” me. I love euphoria. Euphoria’s great, especially when the other alternative is feeling like complete shit.

I’ve struggled with depression, attention deficits, massive anxiety and what I now can recognize as bizarre mood swings, ever since I can remember really. The predominent feelings I had as a child were total and complete fear  and worry. At the age of 5, I was already a tiny female Woody Allen struggling to make sense of a world around me that was way too overpowering and intimidating. I was scared of my parents, I was scared of food, I was scared of the weather, I was scared of school and all the horrible foul turdmonsters of kids who laughed and teased me relentlessly because I was soft and pudgy and dressed like Shirley Temple from 1936 transplanted to 1976.  From the moment I walked into LaPetite Academy I was called fatso and blimp. And that was just the beginning of what seemed like endless days and years of being hit, pushed around, pulled off gym equipment and shoved in a corner to be pinned down while gravel was shoved in my mouth. Why? WTF??? I had no clue, I hadn’t even said anything to anyone. To make things worse, I was quite sickly and a pathetically picky eater, and as a result I was constantly either puking or shitting my pants, which of course e

ndeared me to everyone. Even the staff didn’t seem to like me.

Welcome to my little world and enter ginormous social anxieties and appearance issues that have plagued me my whole entire life. From as early back as I can remember, I always remember feeling uncertain if I was cared for or even liked. I doubted anyone I met would be anything other than…well, pretty much mean. It was so weird, so bizarre. I don’t know why I percieved things the way I did but it set the stage for a pretty much sad lonely childhood and freakishly awkward adolescence. Once I experienced the relief alcohol provided from all my troubles, I thought I had literally died and gone to heaven. I had found my Holy Grail.

So this blog I am now going to use to finally once and for all air out all the shit I should have been journaling for the past 35 years, and document on a daily basis step by step the path of my recovery. I really hope not too many people read it, as it is going to get pretty dark and personal, and I’m not ready for evyone in my life to see just how effed up my life really is. Actually I really do, because I hope my stories might help someone else out there that is suffering. You are not alone, little freaks. You are not alone.

29
Apr
08

Will YOU Please Go To Wild Waves With Me? *please*

I know it’s not quite warm enough yet, but it will be soon. And I really, really, really want to go to Wild Waves. I saw a commercial today for this new casino with this kick-ass waterpark, and it just got me all excited for summertime again. And since I really shouldn’t be going to casinos-not because of the gambling, but because it’s on an indian reservation, and no doubt it’d spark a drinking binge for me-the next best thing is our sooper-cool Six Flags ThemePark Enchanted Village/Wild Waves!!!

(Actually, the Enchanted Village part is really gimpy. It’s more like those cheesy portable rodeo carnivals with the ancient rickety rides you’re sure are going to collapse and fall apart on you, crushing you to death in a smoking heap of rust of cracked plastic) But the Wild Waves part really is hella fun and sooper kewl. I’m designing my own waterslide that I hope the Six Flags people will buy from me, I think it would be a runaway smash sensation with both kids and parents and even old folks alike. It would be called the LeDonna Lee Lightening Locomotive (TM) Liquid Luge (and FunTime Silicone Lubricant wading Pool). It would look something like this:

Now I know what you’re thinking, it LOOKS like it would just be any other regular old waterslide, but oh no, this one is different. Rather than cascading down the twisted mountain of loops, curves and swerves on water, (so yesterday!) you and your friends will be gliding along a lightweight film of AstroLube, splashing down into an luxuriously exhilarating lagoon of cherry-flavored cellulose carbohydrate personal lubricant! (Banana flavor is available every Wednesday and the third Friday night of the month) Since it’s 99.3% water, it’s easily hosed off by our onsite Personal Powerwash SuperShower! And if you’re liking what you’re feeling, you can just continue the fun down at the LD Lover’s Lounge where you can frolic in the Hasbro(TM) Twister Tank, pin’ em down down at the MMA Brazilian Jujitsu Oil Wrestling Arena,or just turn down the lights and up the love in the LD Orgymatic Freelovin’ Nub Hut (maximum capacity 458 ) brought to you by Budweiser and our friends at Durex. Oh, and mark your calendars-next summer I hope to add on the bodacious LeDonnarama Disko Bootie Barn and Anal LuvHut. See you all there!

I’m really sad, because my boyfriend refuses to go to Wild Waves with me. He says swimming in public pools is unsanitary, and he picked up the ringworm one time when he went to a waterpark as a kid. Personally, I think he just doesn’t want to admit he probably got it from himself. {I know what a secret poop-picker upper he was when he was a kid. Ooops, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that.} Sorry, hun. Besides, I’m not afraid of anybody’s funky old ringworm! I have my own chiggers and body lice, that’ll scare any old puss-ass ringworm away! Shoo!

I think this deep-seeded desire for aquatastic beachtime summer fun stems from a deficit from my childhood. As a young adolescent, I was overweight and abhorrently pale, and would rather endure the flames of a thousand fires than expose the world to my obscene fleshiness in a bathing suit or shorts.As a result I rarely spent much time in the sun (which lead to the vicious circle of continuous pastiness and obesity, as one generally cannot get a tan if their skin is never exposed to the sun, and one cannot shed pounds if their lard ass refuses to move). There was one time that I gathered up enough nerve to go to Waterworld with a few of my other calorically-challenged friends. Here we are posing for the camera in an effort to appear happy, footloose and fancy-free:

Of course, I’m the one one the right, the redhead. (I always made sure I was the runt of the litter, subversively choosing my friends that made me look thinner. I know, I know, it’s a self-esteem issue)

Also, I remember I was always trying to get my parents to take me out to a waterpark, or even to a neighborhood swimming pool. But they never really had the time, they were always busy working at the store. Finally, Mama caved in and got me this thing here to shut me up:

I’m not sure what that was, I think she emptied out one of her old plastic shoe bins. It was fun and all, but somehow, it just didn’t quite do the trick. My heart still yearned for just a little something more.

So please, would you please, accompany me to Wild Waves this summer! We can get a Season Pass, or maybe cash in some Pepsi Cans and get $5 off an EarlyBird admission. It’ll be fun. We’ll get matching sunburns, drink $6 fountain pops, and maybe even come out of it with an ear infection!! Yay!!! Thank you so much, you’re the best! I can’t wait! Woo Hoo! Yay!!!!! I’m goin’ to Wild Waves! I’m goin’to Wild Waves! (Insert “Happy Dance” here)




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