I am going to breech a subject that might make some people uncomfortable, might make some people bristle, might make some people feel like they need to give advice...I am not bad-mouthing myself (or anyone else). I am not seeking pity or disgust. I am simply stating what is the reality of being fat. Yes, I just said that...that horrible "f" word that no one wants to say anymore...F.A.T. I am the queen of using "nicer" wording such as "hefty hunnie," "big & beautiful," "full figured," and so many other things that make it sound like a more acceptable issue than it is for me. I am fat and unhealthy. If I were fat and healthy, I would not have an issue with my size, but I am not. Every day is a struggle in one way or another, and that is going to be true no matter what size, shape, or situation I am in...that is true no matter who you are.
Being fat is hard. At (just turned) 36, my joints creak and ache, my hips hurt, my knees hurt, my feet and ankles hurt and swell a lot; I have heart issues, diabetic issues & sleep issues. My stomach is bloated yet hangs over my hips & waist, my thighs rub together and do this weird hangy thing as I start to lose weight, my breasts sag like an 80 yr old woman's might, my arms already have bat-wings & my face often (okay, always) looks swollen & my hair is getting so thin I am considering Rogaine. And to top it all off, I am never supposed to say those things because it is not politically correct. In the past couple of weeks, I have noticed I am breathing a little easier and I am sure that is from the exercise, but I still can't go out and run in the yard like I would like to with my kids. Sometimes the thought of actually going all day without a nap causes me to feel like I am going to have an anxiety attack...seriously. When I wake up, I am thinking of food. When I am eating, I am thinking of food. When I am working, talking, on the computer, I am thinking of food. I love the taste of food, texture of food, the feeling I get after eating food. I don't fit in the booths at some restaurants and my fat bulges out when I do exercises like squats. My breasts try to hide in my armpits or up around my throat if I lay on my back, but who am I kidding, I feel like I can't breathe when I lay flat anyway, so I don't do it much. I can't do hardly any yoga poses because, other than the child's pose (I think that is what it is called) my belly gets in the way and it hurts. You might think I am typing this with tears in my eyes and an embarrassed blush on my face, but you could not be more wrong. It is hard being fat, but there is also some comfort in it.
It is what I have grown accustomed to. When someone is fat, we as a society often expect less of them. If I don't fix my hair, I know that people probably aren't looking at me anyway because of my size so it doesn't matter. If I don't feel like putting on makeup, I know that people are most likely like "eh oh well." I can eat anything in any amount and, since I am fat, people may shake their heads, but it is almost expected. I have grown used to hiding behind my rolls, behind the fat that is keeping me where I am, behind the emotional wall made of 100+ lbs of excess weight. I don't have to worry about anyone expecting much out of me because, hey, why start now? I remember being thin (I was about 115-120 when my husband and I met). Every time I gained 5 lbs, inevitably someone would remark, sometimes family, sometimes friends, sometimes just acquaintances. Now I can put on 20 and no one seems to notice or someone will say "Oh my, what are you doing? You look like you have lost weight." Lol, why do we always feel the need to ask fat people if they have lost weight? I am beautiful..."for a fat girl" and mainly because I force myself to put myself out there and be the friendliest, smiliest person I can be. I know that there are people who do not see my fat. I love them for that, but it doesn't mean that I don't see and feel it every waking hour and often "take advantage" of it by reasoning that I don't have to do more because I have been this way for so long that my brain tries to tell me it will never change. I am glad my heart and body know better than that.
Having said all of that, getting healthy is hard and frustrating. I am going to mess up, I have messed up and that is part of the journey, but that doesn't mean I can say "oh well, messed up." There are going to be times I NEED to kinda beat myself up over it. Not in a "might as well give up" way just in a "ok, I need to be accountable and stop messing up so much." way. Hopefully someone else will see that yes, we are all real people who struggle day by day, sometimes minute by minute with whatever our health journey is.
Tomorrow, being Thanksgiving, I will eat more than I have been eating this past couple weeks. I will indulge in tasting those delicious treats that my husband's family makes so well. I will drink pop, I have already bought it, and it will be diet Dew, full of caffeine. I will drink diet NOT because I think it is somehow better (I know the caveats about diet, fat free, sugar free stuff). I will drink it because I like it, and because it doesn't effect my blood sugar the way that "real" pop does. And now that I am thinking about "cold pop" I am thinking about Sweet Brown and praying her Thanksgiving is blessed beyond belief ;) As she says it about bronchitis, ain't no body got time for fat.
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