K I feel like writing so here we go.
On the subject of FAT...
So then what happened? Well, first of all, at some point along the way ( think I was either thirteen or fifteen but can't remember at the moment) I "discovered" emotional eating. Well I didn't know that's what it was at the time, but I discovered it nonetheless. Luckily it wasn't something I did too often and it didn't effect my weight too much, probably because I was still somewhat active and healthy. It's no coincidence that this discovery of emotional eating came around the same time as I was becoming unknowingly depressed. I won't go into what was going on and why that added to the depression but just that it was something I was unaware of, I just thought I was weird and super sensitive (I am both those things, but I was also depressed lol).
What's weird about being depressed in my house is that every single person in my family has some mental disorder or another (usually various) but no one said anything to me about possibly being depressed, nothing. Not sure why, but I've always been a bit bitter about that. Back to the topic.
Now, when I was somewhere in my mid teens I fell disgustingly deep in love with a good friend of mine. This caused me a lot of turmoil and inevitably ended in heartbreak for me. How badly was I hurt? Let's just say I only just got over it a few years ago, and I am currently twenty-eight. I got so depressed (still didn't know I had depression btw) that I eventually left my job and school (on the same day) and slowly but surely began shutting the world out, becoming a hermit, pretty much.
And this is where that wonderful thing called emotional eating came in handy. I embraced that coping mechanism, consciously knowing that I would probably gain weight and not caring (because what's the point in looking and feeling good if you don't see any hope for the future?). With the mixture of inactivity and emotional eating, I, of course, did start gaining and I still didn't care. I'm sure I cared on some level but at the time I was too depressed to care. That's how hopeless I felt.
I eventually got to the point where I started to suspect there might be something wrong going on and made an appointment with the doctor. This is when I found out that I did indeed have depression. They diagnosed me with bipolar (because I would go into deep deep depression and then mania) and anxiety and gave me some pills.
By this time I had a full-out eating disorder and was discovering that even though I didn't want to gain weight anymore, it was starting to become out of my control (that's the best way I can put it I think). And I was still depressed. And I didn't know how to get control of my eating again, I just thought I was weak and pathetic. I kept gaining weight.
Then, in my early twenties I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and osteoarthritis. No wonder physical activity was so hard, I thought I was just lazy. Try and lose weight when you're severely depressed, have an eating disorder, and have physical disabilities. Right, sounds fun eh?
So I became double the size I used to be - the size of two of me. And trying to lose weight the whole time by dieting dieting dieting and trying to exercise. The dieting wasn't so hard as the exercise, for obvious reasons, but the mental turmoil one goes through when struggling with body image issues is a sickness I wish upon no one - yoyo dieting, all diets that are extremely unhealthy, for years. None of them worked. Diets don't work. I knew that, I knew it had to be a permanent lifestyle change, but by then I was so deep into the cycle of punishing myself for failing by starving myself, then inevitably binging out of starvation and comfort. I now understand that this becomes a mental disorder that only gets worse.
And so I kept trying and the harder I tried, the more weight I gained. I know that doesn't make any sense, but if you're in such a sick cycle it just keeps making you sicker and making things more distorted and eating away at your self-worth and that forbidden comfort food becomes no different than a drug addiction. The only difference is that you have to eat, which makes it harder to avoid.
And that's why I'm fat. Mind you, I don't think being fat is necessarily bad - we all have some amount of fat on our bodies, it's just when you have too much that it can take a toll on your health. If I were able to lose weight (let's hope so!) I wouldn't want to be skinny, I'd want to be pleasantly plump, as they say. That's just me.
There are many judgments about fat people, and I can understand why: it's a simple scientific formula - burn more calories than you consume and lose weight. Unfortunately, when an eating disorder develops, when there's severe depression going on, when physical activity is limited, this simple formula is moot. Don't tell a fat person to just stop eating because you never know if they're like me and get anxiety attacks just walking into the kitchen because they don't want to have to eat but know they need to.
Ultimately I'm not trying to make excuses for myself because that does no one any good, I'm just explaining how I got where I am and why I'm here.
Some days I feel absolutely disgusting, nothing but a blob of grossness that no one would ever want to look at. In fact I've stayed in many times because I thought no one should have to look at me. Sick, no? Some days I actually feel kinda hot, like yes I'm fat but I'm still damn sexy bitches ;o) Both of those are true depending on who's looking. So what others think doesn't really matter. There are plenty of men who love fat chicks, it turns their crank, but at the end of the day, it's me whose opinion matters and I'm not comfortable being as fat as I am. This goes for aesthetics as well (and especially) health.
While it's true that you can be relatively healthy and fat, there are still things going on inside your body that are not good - things have to work harder because of the extra weight and that puts stress on important processes, resulting in adverse health effects. Thinking about what my body is going through makes me sad, I want to be healthy.
I was at a level weight for a few years, but in the past year I have gained a lot more weight (yes, another severe heart break by a man I love) and this has accelerated my distorted thinking about eating and my body and all of that good stuff. But some really good stuff has happened in that time as well: I finally started seeing a therapist (I know, after being depressed most of my life you'd think I'd have gotten one sooner, but that's a whole other story of woe) and she is fucking awesome. I've been in a DBT group (Dialectic Behavioural Therapy) as well, which has helped me so much. And in about two weeks, I will be starting in an eating disorder program at the hospital.
If this doesn't help me, I don't know what will. I recently went to an information seminar for getting gastric bypass surgery, determined that this was my only hope, I fully intended on going for it. But after the information session, there was no way, I was really disappointed at finding out what it's really like and that the only thing getting that surgery does is help you lose a bunch of weight really quickly (the way you would on a fad diet) and you have to change your lifestyle by eating right and exercising anyway, the same way you would without the surgery. There is no difference, well, except for all the serious health risks and permanent sacrifices, etc. I could get the same results going on a shake diet for a few months and then dieting and exercising - I think I've already tried that lol.
Just learning DBT skills in the past six or so months has already helped me immensely with how I deal with food. I'm hopeful that the next six months, plus my therapy, plus the next year in an eating disorder group will be just what I need to get healthy. I'm tired of everything being about my weight. Just the fact that I would never tell anyone the number on the scale tells me how shameful it makes me feel, cause as some of you know, I'm not the most private person, I tell all! lol I would like to think, after being rejected by a man, that it's because of my horrible personality and not because I'm fat :op There is some truth to wanting that, trust me.
I've learned a lot through the years of being in a fat body...
I've learned the importance of not judging someone by their looks. I've learned that it's still okay (socially acceptable) to say hateful things to or about a fat person, to discriminate against them for how they look. I've learned that the media is disgusting. I've learned that people can eat well and exercise and still be fat. I've learned that they should stop making polyester/nylon clothing for plus size women because it's the most unflattering, worst possible fabric for anyone with curves, lumps, or bumps. Oh, and I've also recently learned that there are ingredients in most of the food we buy, such as high fructose corn syrup and MSG that actually effect the body in a way that negates the scientific formula of natural weight loss (calories consumed/calories burned) - it is really sad to find this out because there are some people who try so hard to lose weight and they are unknowingly consuming these additives, not knowing it is likely making their struggle pointless. I've learned a lot more, but I think I'm about done writing for now.
There was no real point in writing this, I just felt like talking about it so thanks for indulging.
P.S. Fat people need love too please :o)