In an article on BBC News website over the weekend one woman talks about how she feels about being fat. I found it interesting because so much of what she says chimes with how I feel. Here are some of the things she says and which I share (plus a few tropes of my own).
Feeling good about your body isn’t always easy when you are overweight.
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Quite literally, I am the elephant in the room.
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I am fat, there’s no getting away from it.
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I don’t think there’s a single part of me … that is small.
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Society has its own sort of perception of people like me – we are disgusting, fat, slothful, lazy, incompetent, stupid.
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[H]ow could you be that fat? The answer is simple – a lack of control, a lack of confidence …
Yes, I have a lack of self-control; it isn’t good enough now but it was much worse years ago when I first put on weight. It is partly down to the lack of confidence but it’s also, in part, the anxiety and depression.
It’s kind of sad that I’m comforted by food rather than other elements in the world.
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The eating combined with my osteoarthritis and other disabilities doesn’t help – the additional weight on the joints isn’t a positive impact.
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I did swim, but don’t any more.
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“Just lose weight.” I hear that all the time from family, friends, colleagues, doctors …
It’s not rocket science – I know that … but that means effort, doesn’t it? It means having to motivate myself and persevere … I can’t …
I can’t because mostly the depression acts as a complete roadblock. I wish it didn’t, but despite trying just about everything available I’ve not yet found a way through the roadblock.
What is also for many oversized people, me included, is that the brain doesn’t internally know one’s real size. The brain still thinks of you being your normal size and doesn’t adjust for your new size. So you don’t (instinctively) realise how much space you take up. You have this internal picture of yourself the way you were (or should be).
People are constantly judging me … I am a reflection of something that they could become. They tell themselves that they’ve got control, they’re sensible, intelligent and no way would they ever get to my size. But let me tell you, I was you once and you could be me.
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The only person I can hold responsible for my position is me. However, I refuse to accept the size I am. This is not who I was meant to be.
If I accept it then I’m telling myself that I’ve given up and I don’t want to give up.
I don’t want to be normal because normal is boring. I just want to be the best of myself.
I wish it wasn’t thus. I don’t like being the size I am. I understand the risks. I know all the things I should do to combat it, and if I could do it I would have done long ago. But having looked at, and thought about, the problem in depth, the first thing that has to happen is to fix the depression and other mental issues. That is a huge challenge, and I’ve not yet found the key to unlocking it – I wish I had!