Heavy is me. I sit rounded and catch a glimpse of my self in a shop window or a mirror in a store. I am fat. Not just fat but huge. My head looks small. That is not how I see myself and so I am often taken by surprise by this image. Then a few hours later, probably after I have been mulling that image in my mind over and over again I come to the conclusion that I will never win this battle. I will never ever be that girl again. Then I begin to wonder when it all began. Yes I know, the grandmother story but later on in life I lost the weight and now it comes back again. It was gone when I married Hüseyin 21 years ago. It was gone 23 years ago when we met. It came back when the babies died. It came back with all the needles I had to suffer and the loss. Then it came back with the fear of an earthquake as I grew to make myself strong enough to withstand one. It came back and stayed and now I am one of the fat ones. Will I ever be thin again...well one can't lose faith but mine is surely dwindling down.
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