Oprah, weight gain and me

Oprah has done it again. By that I mean she's brought attention to one of the saddest tales of our time: lose it and gain it back. Over and over again. Hundreds of pounds. The old joke, "I've lost and gained a whole person over my life". As if all her viewers hadn't noticed the slow upward climb towards her old weight, Oprah has come out to announce that she is indeed fat again. Oprah, we know. We can see it. You didn't hide it well. All those iron undergarments you wear make you look like you are in a full body caste. Give it up. Jiggle out.
If only I'd known that once becoming fat, getting and staying less fat would become an impossibility, I might have worked harder in my youth to keep from blossoming into my chubby self. But, alas, I started life out as a chubby so doubtless I would have ended up that way anyway.
I'm back to wearing billowy loose clothing. Not so much because my clothes don't fit but probably as a punishment to myself. I don't deserve to look good because I've been a bad girl. Food food food. Lots of delicious food. Hot food. Cold food. Sweet food. Savory food. Platters and bowls and cups of food. Here and there. At home and away. At restaurants and friends houses. None of it mindless. With each bite I asked myself, "Should you be eating this?" Bite. Chew. Swallow. I guess the answer was "yes".
What will Oprah teach me (us) about health and diet and weight when her new season begins? I eagerly await her insights. I shall watch the show with a box of Mallomars and a Pepsi.