A Weighty Issue

I am considered to be medically “Morbidly Obese”.

There are many psychological layers to my obesity, just as there are many physical layers to my fat.

It might not make sense, but this (my weight issue) is probably the main thing I wish I could “turn back time” on, because It has had lasting effects through my life. So many compounding factors have and do effect my weight. It is ‘out there’ for everyone to see and it’s such a social thing – food, weight, body image, etc. I just wish less emphasis was put on appearance.

My earliest memory is being told I had “fat feet” by a kid in pre-school. In my head now I say to that kid “well look at your face” but I seriously don’t remember how I actually reacted at the time. I just remember this feeling of being crushed.

The first time I was told to lose weight was by a dance teacher when I was 7. At this age I was fit, healthy and perhaps stocky – but not overweight or obese. I think she had my best interests at heart at the time – she was aware of what some adjudicators look at, and knew I had the potential to be an amazing dancer if I’d “slimmed down” to fit the ideal look for a dancer.

My brother used to have such lovely nicknames for me…Bush Pig and Yglu Taf Woc (Ugly Fat Cow backwards) were some of his favourites. He is 8 years older than me and was the baby before I came along. I think there was a little jealousy there, but he’s lovely now.

I’m on a lot of medication and this has impacted my weight significantly! Anti-psychotics are the worst, but I’m also on an anti-depressant (Avanza) which can cause weight gain.

Then there’s the sexual abuse I encountered. I have used my weight, in both a physical and symbolic sense, of stopping people from getting close to me. It’s a buffer – protection, mostly from the male species, but I’ve come to realise it doesn’t always work (some guys actually like big women).

The social side of it…

Everything revolves around eating. Why is this? Why are there so many ads on telly for food and then the next ad will be a skinny size 4 model on a beach with a hot guy or something! It’s confusing – and wrong in my opinion!
I must mention the looks of disgust I get as I walk down the street. People either look right through me, or scan every inch of my fatness with their condescending eyes! Judging me – imagining what I ate in the past 24 hours and wondering why I don’t just “stop eating”. That’s the other thing…if I’m eating in public, no matter what I’m eating (could be a salad), I get looks of abomination that I even be putting food near my mouth!

I had lapband surgery in 2005, which I consider to have been UNsuccessful. It’s not a quick fix, that’s for sure and I knew this. I have lost and kept off a considerable amount of weight from the pre-surgery diet, but I’ve given up on having my band filled.
In my opinion, the problem with lapband surgery is that it may limit your food intake, but the types of food you can eat are limited.
e.g. I found it is very difficult to digest meat/chicken & salad without it getting stuck and having to bring it back up. On the other hand – chocolate, biscuits and lollies go down quite nicely.

At various times I remember my Mum, Dad, Brothers, Sister and others telling me I needed to lose weight, or that they were worried about my weight.
I could have gone either way – prove them right, or prove them wrong. As my mental state deteriorated I became that fat person in my head. I suppose the belief became so strong in my mind that I became physically morbidly obese. Not only proving myself and others right, but putting my physical health at serious risk.
I’m not saying these people made me obese. I am saying that my young and fragile mind misconstrued their words of concern and instilled in me a core belief that I was, in fact, fat.

Now that I’m in a better head space mentally, I do want to do something about my weight…but I want it to be on my terms and for me!

I want to tell the haters to piss off and let me get on with it – your judgement isn’t helping!!!

The start of a New Year, The start of a Blog!

Happy New Year!!! Here’s to the start of a new blog!

My dog, Rosie, didn’t like the loud noise from the fireworks much – nor did the other dogs in the neighbourhood…I could have sworn I was at a dog pound, with all the barking!

I had a few (alcoholic) drinks tonight. I’m not a drinker usually, so I hope what I’m writing is legible! I mostly don’t drink because I am on so much medication and I find it just makes me sleepy most of the time.

I guess I should start by telling you a bit about myself…

I am 28 years old and I come from a very big and loving family – I think if any of them read this blog, they might encounter a few surprises! I have been diagnosed with Complex PTSD & Schizoaffective Disorder and in therapy with the same psychologist since I was 16. I can tell you it’s been a long and rugged road I’ve traveled thus far with her! I also see a psychiatrist, who I’ve been seeing since about 2005/6.

2012 was one of my most difficult, yet most enlightening years. I spent 7 months as an inpatient at a psychiatric hospital, which you may think would make this year a right-off, but it wasn’t! I learned SO much about where I came from and what brought me to this point. I learned that after every hurdle, there is soft grass to land on – my family and friends are that soft grass, as is the life I am building for myself. I learned that life is too precious and beautiful for me to feel negatively towards those who no longer exist in my present. I learned that “bad” events in life do not define who I am. I learned that a lot of my emotions are “misdirected” upon myself, instead of those who deserve it.

I’m going to share a little about my past below:

I was abused sexually from the age of about 5 to 9. Thankfully, it was not anyone in my family who perpetrated this abuse. I “repressed” the memories of the abuse until I was about 14. For a long time I couldn’t remember who my abusers were (I always knew there were two) and this really concerned me because I thought it may be someone in the family, but now – it’s crystal clear who they were and I really couldn’t give a toss about them.

Looking back, I showed some classic signs of a child who had been abused.

• I played inappropriate games with dolls…right up until I was 14.
• I was easily shamed.
• Was overly sensitive at times – especially with my older brother (whose ex-friends were the perpetrators).
• I dissociate/d a lot.
• People pleaser – especially with authority figures.

If only life could be a bed of roses though, right? But sometimes it’s a bed of thorns. Life can be hard, but I’m just beginning to see it can be worthwhile too…

There’s so much I want to say, but it’s 3:30am…time for bed.