"Too Much" Equals "Not Enough"

It seems like everything and everyone I encounter lately point out to me that I am too fat. My previous entry, It Still Hurts, describes my experience in the grocery store a week ago. Well, it looks like that was just the beginning of the end for me. In the past ten days, my weight has been all that I can focus on. I went to a doctor of mine to discuss possible options for dealing with chronic pain. Well, I never saw the doctor. The nurse who checked me in asked if I was there for another injection. I replied that I wasn't sure if that's what I wanted to do because they don't seem to be helping anymore. She then informed me that I shouldn't expect the doctor to work miracles when the real problem is that I am too fat. If only I'd exercise and eat a salad once in a while, I wouldn't be in this position, she said. I looked over at my reflection in the mirror at the end of the examining room table and felt an overwhelming sense of deep shame. And then I got up and left. I never waited on the doctor. After all, the nurse was right, right? My pain is my own fault. When I got out to the car, I took out my phone and made several calls, cancelling appointments with my endocrinologist, family physician, and OB/GYN, telling myself that I'm too fat to ask for treatment for my medical conditions. I always apologize to the EMTs for having to track down an extra person to load me into an ambulance when I need to go to the ER. God forbid that anything should happen to me in my own apartment and first responders would have to get me up the stairs.

I got on Face book a couple of days later to find a post from a friend. It showed a picture of an obese woman getting out of her car in a handicapped spot in the parking lot. My friend's response to that picture was (he used all caps) "YOU'RE NOT HANDICAPPED, YOU'RE FAT!" He went on to say that the BMV should create a special tag for fat people and require them to park in the spaces furthest from the store so that they would have to do a little exercise on their way in to buy cookies and ice cream. Again, ,I felt ashamed. It must be what everyone else is thinking when they see me get out of the car. I no longer make eye contact with others. It's less painful to look down at my feet.

I was riding in the car with a family member about a month ago and this person commented that "----- would be so much prettier if she would lose a bit of weight." So, I asked if that meant the person in question wasn't pretty because they were overweight. The response I got was that they weren't saying the individual wasn't pretty, just that they could look so much more attractive if they dropped some weight. I then asked what they thought about me, as I am much heavier, only to be met with silence. At the South Side Diner the other day I could feel eyes on me coming from the older couple in the booth directly across the aisle. I heard the older lady say to her husband "How could anybody let themselves get that big?" I glanced over at her, wanting her to know that I heard what she said and I wanted to scream out to everyone there that I was eating a cheeseburger patty, no bun, a side salad, and cottage cheese, and drinking water, all of which are foods I am "allowed" to eat on the food plan established by my weight loss doctor so FUCK OFF! But, I didn't. I pushed my plate aside, asked for my bill, then went home and forced myself to throw up, chastising myself for being "bad". For being hungry. For needing to eat at all. For being alive.

I've found myself really listening to what others are saying about weight lately. I have several friends who have been losing weight. Some, intentionally through diet and exercise. Some due to eating disorders. Some, unintentionally as a result of other physical health issues. No matter what the underlying reason, the comments made by my friends to these individuals go something like this: "You are getting so skinny! You look great! I wish I was that skinny!" I cringe every time I hear those words and remain silent, full of shame and self-loathing. I've cut back on going out to dinner with my friends because, once again, I am worried about being judged for what I order. I worry about how I look compared to everyone else and I'm angry that I am even visible. I've started leaving meetings early, to avoid the "expected" hugging afterward because I am self conscious. I'm not sleek and thin. I'm big and squishy. I don't deserve love.

I seems like I can't not focus on my weight or size anymore. I turn down invitations to go to friends houses because I don't know what kind of furniture they have, knowing that it is hard for me to get up and down from chairs. I don't fit in most booths at restaurants any more. I can't sit outside and enjoy watching the sunset because lawn chairs do not hold me. I don't like to ride with others because the seat belts in their cars might not fit around me. I can't buy clothes at the store, because they don't carry my size. I turned down an opportunity to go on an Alaskan cruise with my family because my weight has caused some physical limitations that would severely limit my ability to go on this trip. Everything is a reminder that I'm too big. It seems like no matter how many things I do "right" (like drinking water, cutting carbs, not eating dessert), it's not enough.

And I, too, am guilty of judging others based on their weight. A friend posted a picture of her daughter's ballet recital on Face book the other night. There were four girls in the front row. My immediate response? The third girl from the left is too fat. And then I started thinking about how painful her life will be if she doesn't slim down. I've totally bought into the idea that thin is what matters. I find myself thinking that thin is all that matters. One of the hardest things to hear from friends and family is "Oh, but I love you anyway." Yes, anyway. That's like saying to someone who has blond hair that I love them anyway, implying that being blond isn't good enough. I know that it shouldn't matter to me what anyone else thinks or says, but it does. There is a saying that goes "what others think of you is none of your business". It's so hard not to make it my business when everywhere I turn, I am faced with reminders that I'm not enough. Several years ago, I was out on a walk and a car of guys, I would say in their early twenties, drove past me. They rolled down the windows of the car and made "oinking" and "mooing" noises at me. As if that weren't embarrassing enough, they turned the car around and made a second pass at me, this time with 3 of them dropping their pants and mooning me while yelling "Here piggy piggy!" So, I joined a health club. I mustered up the courage to go in for my first workout, which took a lot for me to do. I heard two young men mocking me after I got up from using one of the machines. I tried to brush that off and went over to the treadmill. The most I could do was five minutes. I thought I was going to die. As I stepped off the treadmill, the man next to me, who was running on the treadmill, said to me "That's it? That was hardly worth the effort!" I went over to try the recumbent bike but my left knee wouldn't bend enough to allow me to use that either. I crumpled up the exercise plan that the personal trainer had designed for me and I left, hoping I would make it to my car before starting to cry. I never went back, even though I paid the membership fee each month for a full year.  I would so much rather admit to being an alcoholic and drug addict, a sexual abuse and rape survivor, or that I am living with mental illness than have to have the whole world see that I am fat.

I don't know where to go from here. I know that I don't have any answers. This entry is coming from a place of deep pain and frustration. I've lost roughly 60 pounds in the past six months. But, (yes, there is a but) I've gained back 7 pounds in the last two weeks, due in part to a medication change which has resulted in a significantly increased appetite. So, I'm feeling defeated, again. I worry that no matter what I do, or how hard I try, I'm never going to reach an acceptable weight. I'm finding it so hard not to give up.