Feeling a little overweight? Never fear, you are not alone. Lisa Scott muses on "body dysmorphia" and her "invisible lard overcoat".
I have a disorder.
It's called body dysmorphia, affecting the way I see myself.
When I look in the mirror, instead of a puckered reality, all I see is gorgeousness.
It's a curse.
But, as they say in the modelling world, "The scales don't lie."
According to the ones in the bathroom, I've put on 5kg.
And the other day I had the misfortune to catch sight of my back end, so I know exactly where it went.
I wouldn't mind so much if it weren't the same old 5kg again, over and over.
Like groundhog day for your thighs.
Losing weight is so hard once you've given up smoking and can taste things - reminders of all you could be eating are everywhere.
Has anyone else noticed that, lately, television is obsessed with food and cooking? You do if you're hungry.
I get terrible empty stomach indigestion watching Masterchef and New Zealand's Hottest Home Baker, followed, in a final twist of the paring knife, by the Biggest Loser.
Simultaneously, food is getting more expensive, establishing cravings we can't afford to indulge.
Crackheads and alkies will one day watch scavenging foodies from the vantage of their flaming oil drums, shaking their heads and saying, "Poor bastards."
Fatness is like an invisible lard overcoat.
Even if you lose it somehow, it simply waits, biding its time.
Haunting you like a phantom limb.
The minute you relax your fascist food control, whump, back it comes, with interest.
Bum first.
How do I know I'm overweight?
Science.
BMI, or Body Mass Index, to be exact.
I had a guesstimate of my height (about 152cm) and read my weight straight from the scales.
Bad news.
According to pickthetick.org.nz, I am overweight with a high risk of obesity-related diseases.
Strangely, if I were Asian or Indian, I would already be obese.
New Zealanders of every kind are getting fatter and fatter, with the beach now a view from our cafe table rather than a physical destination.
A quarter of all Kiwis are obese and the trend is showing no sign of slowing.
The Ministry of Health's 2010 social report stated that 25% of the population aged 15 and over is obese, defined as a BMI of 30 or more.
In 1997 it was 19%, and we all used to make fun of them.
Businesses are betting on the fact that most diets fail by producing larger sizes in clothing, hospital beds and even coffins.
And they're on to a winner.
Waikato Hospital dietitian Helen Wallwork says 95 out of 100 dieters will not only fail, but put on weight.
"Remember," she says (probably in that smug tone skinny women use), "Chips are not a vegetable."
I will not go gently into that big nightie.
Only two years ago, I was spitefully thin.
Now, thanks to chardonnay and the Rattray St chippy, I've eaten myself out of an entire weight class.
Women have started being really nice to me, which is always a bad sign.
At Christmas, someone actually said, "You're eating well."
(God, what is wrong with people from Gore? Anyway, I digress).
Inspired by both his marriage and a recent bout of amoebic dysentery, the economist (fancying himself a weight-loss expert) has an idea for a slimming programme involving dysentery and unhappiness: "Nine out of 10 women will experience great results," he boasts.
"I'd almost guarantee my work."
And he knows what he's talking about: his former lovers have all been very thin.
Misery will do that to a woman.
As opposed to my ex-boyfriends, who always leave Lisa Land a lot heavier, due to stress eating.
If this professor lark falls through, laughing boy plans to open a chain of clinics specialising in cruelty and parasitical regimes: tapeworms, intestinal amoebiasis, protozoan infections ... all the while showering abuse on clients who have paid dearly for the privilege.
"It's genius," he says.
"I'll franchise it."
One week of sulking and dieting later ...
Have to admit that maths and measurement never were my strong points.
Turns out I am much taller than I thought.
Practically a giant, at 161cm.
"You are a Healthy Weight," says the BMI computer, changing its mind.
"You are normal."
Normal - how reassuring.
Pass the mashed potatoes.
Lisa Scott is a Dunedin writer.
