An Olympic Event: Putting on my bathing suit

So....it's no secret I need to lose weight. I should exercise more (or just exercise at all). If I did these two things then maybe getting into my swimsuit wouldn't be an Olympic event.
I hate my swimsuit for various reasons: 1. It's about 84 sizes larger than I would like it to be 2. It's "slimming" which is just a fancy word for "straight jacket." 3. It tries to kill me EVERY SINGLE TIME I PUT IT ON.

(This picture, courtesy of Google Images, is what the manufacturer wants us fat girls to THINK we will look like when we wear a bathing suit with slimming panels (wtf?). However, this girl doesn't need a panel anywhere. Why would you use her as a model? We want to see what spanx can DO! Like that old commercial for crazy glue where the guy hung from a girder by his hard hat! Yeah. Like THAT!) 

If you're skinny, putting on a bathing suit is probably as easy as putting on underwear. Let me explain something, putting on a bathing suit it is not that easy when it has "slimming panels" in many places (read: the entire suit is made up of slimming panels). I am usually stuck with one arm pinned to my body. The back of the bathing suit is rolled up like elastic accordion blinds. I have worked up a sweat. I am stuck. I need assistance. Life Alert, please come help me. I've strangled myself in my bathing suit and I can't get out. Often, there are tears. And whatever happens, I can't make the mistake of  looking in the mirror while I wrestle the suit on. Things. Stick. Out. At. Weird. Angles. Oh. Lord. My. Eyes.

Yes, sir. One does not simply "slip on" anything that promises to be "slimming" and "smoothing." There is no "slipping" into anything; this is an Olympic event. I think millions would tune in to watch the bathing suit version of, "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat."

And don't even get me started on the challenges of putting on a WET bathing suit. I see you nodding your head!