Showing posts with label ageism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ageism. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 22, 2023

Ugly Fat Old Failure Intro

 

Image created by the author with free-use elements from Pixabay plus text art and enhancements from Pixlr. Base images by Dina Dee and John Hain from Pixabay. The woman depicted is an AI creation, not an actual person.

The reasons for the war I am about to wage date back decades, even centuries in some cases. I was not around in this form centuries ago, but I may have been there in a different one. However, this book is not about reincarnation. I will strive to remain on topic. Having ADHD means going off on unrelated tangents is a far from slim possibility.

I am a woman. A large woman. A woman who has been on the planet for close to six decades. A woman whom no-one would ever mistake for cute, hot, pretty, sexy, or any other such thing that all women are supposed to be in order to be judged momentarily worthy of attitudes other than outright disdain. This explains the presence of the unflattering adjective Ugly in the title. Personally, I feel both Old and Fat are neutral descriptors, but all too many people use these words as insults.

As for the descriptor Failure, my reason for choosing that word stems from an article I read several years ago. Sadly, I don’t remember the name of the person who wrote the article. I believe she was a doctor attending a conference. When she expressed the opinion that shaming larger patients did nothing to improve their well-being and, in fact, prompted them to avoid seeking medical care, many of her fellow physicians laughed at her. One even commented something along the lines of “do you think coddling these losers will do anything to improve their failed lives?”

This is exactly the way many doctors feel about their larger patients. It is an attitude encouraged by medical schools. I somehow survived nursing school without offing myself or anyone else. Fatphobic attitudes are prevalent AND encouraged in nursing schools. They were also prevalent in the hospitals where I did my clinicals. In fairness, the staff at one of these hospitals treated a very large woman suffering from depression severe enough that she had become nonverbal and unable to care for herself with great kindness, never shaming her for her size or for not responding. It is one of the few times I have seen a fat patient treated with real compassion.

Fatphobic attitudes were not encouraged in the EMS program I attended. We were trained that our goal was to help patients get the care they need, not to scold or belittle them. Even if they were chronic substance abusers (known in the business as Frequent Fliers.) Even if they were extremely heavy. Even if they lived in squalid surroundings. The reasoning for this (sensible) rule was a practical one. Shaming patients does not encourage them to get the care they need. We are there to help them get care.

Here are your three options for reading the rest of the chapter:

https://odysee.com/@crazycreativescheerleadingcamp:2/intro-ufof:e?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

Purchase the PDF for 100 LBC (approximately $1) on Odysee. This is the preferred option for anyone who would like to support my work but doesn't want to commit to a monthly subscription.

https://reamstories.com/naughtynetherworldpress

Subscribe to the $5 tier (Sneak Peeks) on Ream. This gives you early access to chapters from all my independent works plus Lil DeVille's naughty one-off stories if that's your sort of thing. 

https://open.substack.com/pub/naughtynetherworldpress/p/ugly-fat-old-failure?utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web

Subscribe to the official Naughty Netherworld Press Substack. There are only two options with this one, free and $5 per month. The Substack subscription gives you pretty much the same thing as the Sneak Peeks tier on Ream. 



Saturday, March 5, 2022

Blow Your Stack Saturday: Welcome to Whitewashed Utopia

 


Today's prompt from 52 Weeks of Writing was "hey, Ornery, it's Blow Your Stack Saturday! Is there anything you want to bitch about?"

Okay, that was my interpretation of today's prompt, and yes, there is.

I recently fell down the syrupy Hallmark channel rabbit hole and have been watching Cedar Cove. Like so many romantic visions of television utopia, this one has a seedy underbelly. By seedy underbelly, I don't mean that Walter White has set up a meth lab or there is a prostitution ring. I mean that behind the perfect facade of perfect people in a perfect town there is some perfectly putrid prejudice that nobody wants you to notice.

Cedar Cove is the whitest place anywhere. I have not seen a single non-white person even in passing. Everyone is straight and attractive by Hollywood standards. Look all you want, you will see none of those unsightly disabled or fat people. Disabled people simply don't exist and fat people are a bugbear used to scare the Perfectly Pretty Able-Bodied White Straight populace into earning their eating-disordered binges through orthorexia.

Shows like Cedar Cove are the television equivalent of the ladies' magazines you see at the checkout stand in the grocery store. These initially appear to be innocuous fluff but they are actually fronts for insidious attitudes designed to keep impressionable women buying products to keep themselves looking impossibly young and girlishly thin. Do you want to eat a slice of that delicious cake on the cover? Better get ready to force yourself to vomit, take a few laxatives, and engage in a few hours of punishing exercise, you slovenly oinker!

The photoshopped cover models for such magazines have no lines on their faces, no stretch marks on their bodies, and not an ounce of fat. Any model deemed too dark-complexioned has their skin tone lightened. These magazines are chock full of "inspiring" stories of women who lost half their body weight on the latest fad diet. Never mind if you have to cut out entire nutrient groups on these diets and never mind that weight reduction dieting only works long term in approximately five percent of dieters. You don't want to be a bad fatty and not try yet again, do you?

I used to spend a fortune on these dreadful magazines hoping that I was going to finally find THE DIET that was going to work permanently so I didn't have to be ugly anymore. Approximately twelve years ago I realized that the messages these magazines promote are even uglier than I am. I raise my middle finger to the beauty, diet, and fashion industries. Fuck a whole lot of that shit. 

Spirit of the Universe, please help me accept myself as I am. Please help me to keep making improvements that will truly benefit me rather than trying to fit someone else's idea of what I'm supposed to be. Amen.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~





Fat and Ornery
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors


Hangry isn't having it.
Free use image from Pixabay

Fabulous selfie of my actual middle finger by me.
You can't touch this.
It's not like I really care that much, it's just that I know that most people are cunts.









Resource Books:
52 Weeks of Writing

Self-Help Sucks

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)



Creative Commons License


This work is the intellectual property of Crazy Creatives Cheerleading Camp and Naughty Netherworld Press.

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. Odysee’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on Odysee. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

Come check out Readers Roost, the online book store featuring works by indie and small press authors. Discover your next great read at the Roost! It's the link you need when you wanna read.

Buy me a coffee

Or buy me a coffee here

Join me on Patreon!
Subscribe for as little as $1 per month.

Get the latest literary happenings and slices of life in your inbox! Now with a poem or chapter from an unpublished WIP every month. You may find yourself in possession of a sanity-scarring eldritch horror or fabulous rarity that would otherwise be relegated to the dustbin of history!




Friday, December 31, 2021

CCCC 2022 Project: Fat Friday: Food Without a Side of Guilt

 

Image by congerdesign from Pixabay

New to this blog? Read the Rules of Engagement before joining the fray!

Spirit of the Universe, please guide me to the choices that will help me live my own best life while helping others. Please help me overcome the desire to pursue validation or adulation and to instead seek the path that promotes goodness, both for me and those who read my words. Help me to be compassionate rather than defensive. Amen.

"Food without a side of guilt tastes much better." --Laurel Ann Deininger

I remember the bad old days of New Years Resolution guilt.

Every year was going to be the year when I would lose eighty thousand trillion pounds, become drop-dead gorgeous, hit the big time, and be the envy of every woman and the desire of every man. Every year started out with heavy emphasis on food restriction and orthorexia. By the time my birthday rolled around in February I was so hangry I could have eaten my entire family and I'm sorry to say that I was an absolute delight to be around (not.) It was a horrible pattern, and I'm afraid that I repeated it every year for more than three decades.

I don't do that anymore.

I think that New Year's resolutions are kind of dumb, honestly. What difference does it make if you begin a project on January 1 or February 15 or March 17 or April Fools Day or Halloween? None, that's how much. Don't wait for an arbitrary day. If it's something you feel is beneficial, do it. Only don't do it by setting impossible goals for yourself. That only results in disappointment and increased self-loathing.

My resolutions for 2022 include continuing the battle against my abusive life partner ED. I still don't entirely have the restrict-binge-guilt cycle under control although it is under control much more of the time than it used to be. 

Weight loss used to be my most important obsession--I mean goal. These days, weight loss is NEVER the aim of any changes to my eating or exercise habits. Having weight loss as a goal is a shitty recipe for inevitable failure. I don't like shitty recipes. I shoveled that shit sandwich down my own throat every day for more than 30 years, starting when I was twelve years old. It is a sandwich that I refuse to ever eat again.

Becoming "beautiful" is also off my list of must-dos. What the fuck is "beautiful" anyway? It's an arbitrary attribute. It's fucking meaningless. Feast your senses on the brilliance of the late Carrie Fisher.



Carrie was beautiful, particularly in the way that counts most. She had a beautiful spirit. Unfortunately, it was also a wounded spirit. She was undeniably harmed by the arbitrary (and stupid) standards that Western society places on women to be nubile sexpots with massive, perky breasts and not a trace of fat on their backside or thighs, regardless of age. I do not think that Carrie would have died at 60 had she not been a tortured soul. 

People think that it is okay to make shitty comments about other people's looks. My quest to call out this fuckery wherever it occurs will continue in 2022. I'm not saying that anyone has to find me beautiful. I don't even give a single fuck if no one finds me beautiful. I'm saying that no one has the right to be a dick about it, regardless of how unbeautiful they find me or anyone else.

My goals in 2022 include continuing to kick guilt to the curb whenever it comes knocking and to defeat my abusive life partner ED whenever and wherever possible. I suggest that you adopt similar goals rather than succumbing to the usual disappointing New Year's resolution bullshit.



Ornery Owl is defying convention
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors


Hangry is defying diet culture and defeating ED whenever possible.
Free use image from Pixabay


I begin my diary entries with a variation on the prayer I learned from the book Self Help Sucks by Tony Blankenship. You can pick up a copy of the book here. If you purchase a copy through this link, I earn a small commission from Amazon.

https://amzn.to/3sCWA9q

I appreciated Tony's personable and flexible approach to the Twelve Step program. You don't need to be perfect in your efforts to improve your life. You don't have to believe a certain way or pray a certain way or to a certain or any deity. I like to use the term "Spirit of the Universe" rather than God.

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)



Creative Commons License


This work is the intellectual property of Naughty Netherworld Press.

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. Odysee’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on Odysee. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

Come check out Readers Roost, the online book store featuring works by indie and small press authors. Discover your next great read at the Roost! It's the link you need when you wanna read.

Buy me a coffee

Or buy me a coffee here

Join me on Odysee

Join me on Patreon!
Subscribe for as little as $1 per month.

Get the latest literary happenings and slices of life in your inbox!

Saturday, June 6, 2020

Blow Your Stack Saturday: An Ugly Tanka

Image by John Hain from Pixabay

you think it's a laugh
making lists of ugly folk
you show your insides
those who are truly ugly
are the ones who make such lists

~cie~

notes
I happened on a list of the "100 ugliest actors," and I wondered how anyone could possibly think it was in any way okay to create such a thing. Whoever spent time creating this mean-spirited list needs to get a hobby, and having a personality transplant wouldn't hurt either.

Something I noticed was that all of the actors on their list were middle-aged and older. Society has a real problem with ageism. 

Further, does the clown who made this list think that these guys owe it to them to fit into their narrow definition of beauty?

I only saw one ugly person associated with that list: the individual who created it. To be clear, there was no picture of this mean-spirited jackass. I knew from the fact that they had created such a hateful document that they were an abomination.

Monday, May 18, 2020

Sly Likes: Feminist Poetry from H. Hennenburg

Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay

The statue depicts Dame Millicent Fawcett (11 June 1847 – 5 August 1929), an iconic British feminist.

Today I encountered a thought-provoking poem entitled The Shape of Water. It was written by H. Hennenburg in 1998.

"But do you know that a woman's voice will change the world slowly? Light will creep in where she unburdens her heart."

This poem inspired a train of thought for me.

It makes me think of a line from the song by Ten Years After.

"I'd love to change the world but  I don't know what to do. So I leave it up to you."

Then there's another song that comes to mind, this one by Ani DiFranco.

"I am not a pretty girl, that is not what I do."

Here I am, a woman who sees the ways in which we could be kinder to one another and make the world a better place. But since I am a strange old bird and not pretty at all, I have a hard time making myself heard. The world doesn't tend to listen to women who look like me.

Then again, they don't tend to listen to the women that men fall all over themselves to get next to either.

~Sly Has Spoken~

Royalty-free image copyright Julia Henze. Purchased from 123rf.com

Notes
Sly Fawkes is your ornery old Aunt Cie's snarky political alter-ego.

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese, if You Please (Or Don't Please)


Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley

Please do not repost

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.


Friday, March 6, 2020

Fat Friday: Ageism and Size Prejudice


Image copyright Open Clipart Vectors
Ornery sez:
Say "NO WAY" to ageism and fatphobia!


“You’re not fat! Don’t talk about yourself like that, it makes me uncomfortable.”

My blogger handle is The Ornery Old Lady.

I had a person comment on one of my posts “you’re not old, you’re young at heart!”

I had to laugh because if there is one thing I’ve never been, it’s young at heart. I’ve had kind of a tough go of things.

Two of society’s biggest prejudices, especially when it comes to women, are age and size. I’m middle-aged and fat. And I want to know why my saying that should make anyone uncomfortable.

(Hint–it shouldn’t.)

The Ornery Middle-Aged Lady just doesn’t have the same impact as The Ornery Old Lady, though.

Fat and Ornery

Thursday, October 3, 2019

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 3: Aunt Cie's Soapbox: Leave My Old Womb Alone (Choka)

Image by Solarus from Pixabay

lay off my old womb
I am not a candidate
for new motherhood
I can no longer achieve
reproduction, no
but it would not bring me joy
to endure the pain
of removing my old womb
it is my life choice
to keep my organs intact
despite a slightly
elevated chance that I
develop cancer
somewhere well on down the line
any womb is not
only worth saving when it
is available
to serve as incubator



~Cie~


Note:
The poem references the incidents of 2018 when my life continued revolving around my uterus despite the fact that the painful periods I had endured for 40 years had come to an end. In April of 2017, and again in April of 2018, I experienced post-menopausal bleeding, and in June of 2018, I underwent a D&C to determine the nature of the endometrial cells.
Had the cells been abnormal or the endometrial hyperplasia complex, this would have elevated my risk of future endometrial cancer by 36%, in which case I would have opted for a hysterectomy.
My cells were normal and it was simple hyperplasia. This only increases the risk of endometrial cancer by 1.6%. In the end, I felt that the risks posed by undergoing a hysterectomy, which is a major surgery no matter how casual a spin doctors try to put on it, were greater than opting for a wait and see approach. 
Post-menopausal endometrial hyperplasia can occur for a variety of reasons. It is more common in Caucasian women, in women over fifty, in women with a larger body type, and in diabetic women. I am a large Caucasian woman over fifty with a large body type who has diabetes. As it turned out, I also had a number of small fibroids in my uterus which were probably irritating the endometrium and causing it to overgrow.
My primary care physician wanted me to have a hysterectomy.
My OB/GYN wanted me to have a hysterectomy.
The gynecologic oncologist whom I consulted wanted me to have a hysterectomy.
This despite the fact that all of them quoted a very low increased likelihood of the type of hyperplasia I was experiencing ever developing into cancer.
I had one of those obnoxious trans-vaginal ultrasounds in February of this year which showed that the endometrial lining was still slightly thicker than normal but had greatly reduced in size and was within the perimeters of acceptable. I did not experience bleeding in April of this year. My OB/GYN wanted to do another D&C, but I said no. There was no presenting reason to undergo a procedure that leaves me feeling like someone has been up in my business with a cheese grater.
I consulted with a radiologist who specializes in a procedure called uterine artery embolization, which utilizes tiny radioactive grains to block the uterine arteries and cut off the blood supply to the fibroids so they shrink and cease to cause trouble. As opposed to a hysterectomy, which is a major surgery, this is a minimally invasive approach. The doctor told me I was not a candidate for the procedure because fibroids will shrink on their own after menopause, but she agreed with me that since I had not experienced post-menopausal bleeding this year, the endometrial thickness is within acceptable boundaries, and my hyperplasia is the low-risk variety for future development of cancer, a wait and see approach makes sense in my case. She discussed this with my OB/GYN and the gynecologic oncologist, and they agreed with her.
During The Year Of Focusing Way Too Much On My Uterus, I learned just how quick doctors are to recommend a hysterectomy to post-menopausal women. If a woman can no longer serve as a baby factory, let's just yank the old plumbing out, risks be damned. The fact is, major surgery is always risky although sometimes the risks of surgery are necessary. It is also a fact that the female reproductive system provides benefits to its owner even after menopause and unless it is malfunctioning in a way that makes life unacceptably uncomfortable or poses risks to a woman's health, it's best to leave it alone.
Uterus: it's not just for incubating infants. 
That's been Aunt Cie's Soapbox, Ladies! Hysterectomy is sometimes necessary, but it tends to be overprescribed, particularly in post-menopausal women.

Thursday, August 15, 2019

Real Cie Reviews + FOAD Thursday: Harassment is Sexy and Fat People Aren't Even Human


Rating: Since there ain't no zeros, I'll give you a one

Nora Roberts' Nightshade is a trope-laden mess. Initially, I enjoyed the "hard-boiled detective narrative from a female perspective," but, fairly quickly, the cracks began to show.
I became tired of the male protagonist disrespecting the female protagonist's comfort zones and this being written as sexy rather than as harassment. She was not only supposed to endure it, but she was also supposed to enjoy it. Because nothing is hotter than a guy who won't take no for an answer.
The icing on the unpalatable cake was the "disgusting fat cat lady" who "had two chins and was working on a third," and the hero could see "at least two hundred pounds of bulk under her dress." This woman proceeds to "rub one of her chins."
I thought that Eleanor the cat lady was the most interesting character in the whole mess. I would have enjoyed reading Eleanor the Cat Lady's story. I would like a whole series of Eleanor the Cat Lady stories, where Eleanor is written as an interesting, eccentric, large human being, not a revolting, sub-human stereotype.
How hard would it have been to say that a large, elderly woman answered the door, and the hero could see several cats lying in the windows and on the furniture? The personable lady smiled and invited the hero in for cake and coffee. She was wearing a loudly colorful tunic which she may have made herself.
How easy it would have been to make the character both large and eccentric without being hateful.
Fuck Nora Roberts, and fuck every author who can't write a large character without insulting and dehumanizing them.
So done with this shit.

Cie does not recommend this book and she is unwilling to even share a link to this book even though she needs every cent she can get her broke-ass hands on.

Here is a link to my Goodreads review.





Thursday, July 25, 2019

Carpe Diem Summer Challenge 2019: Beach Party for Every Body

Image by David Shaw from Pixabay

What I have been wondering for a long time is this.

Why is it that when you have a bunch of stupid guys on a beach and a person with the “wrong” kind of body walks by, and they yell terrible and mean-spirited things at this person who is minding their own business,

Why is everyone’s response to ignore and even justify their behavior rather than shouting them down?

Why shouldn’t everyone be allowed to relax and have fun at the beach or the pool?

Why is it only fun for those whose bodies have been deemed attractive enough?

Why shouldn’t fat people and skinny people and people with scars and stretch marks and ladies with saggy boobs and men with round pot bellies and hairy folks and scrawny scarecrow guys and gals with arms and legs like Betty Spaghetti have a nice time too?

I think it’s rather boring when the only people who can go for a swim without feeling self-conscious and like they must keep covered up are young people with the “right” kind of body.

Shouldn’t we have gotten past the idea that the only people whose bodies should be seen are sleek, unblemished, photoshopped visions of pornographic “perfection?”

Shouldn’t the beach be a place where everyone can cool off, not yet another spot where only the hottest hotties are allowed?

Beach parties are fun
For those with the right body
Not so much for those
Whose bodies have been deemed wrong
Ignoring not an option


~Cie~


Sunday, June 23, 2019

Come as You Are: Preaching to the Choir and Pissing Into the Wind

Probably what I’m doing with this post, but I’ve got something sticking in my craw, so here goes.
I don’t believe in lambasting another person’s physical appearance. Even if I really dislike that person. Their behavior, not their physical appearance, is what makes them a good or bad person. There are physically attractive people who are really awful people and people who are not conventionally physically attractive who are very nice people. I’d rather point out what’s wrong with a person’s actions than make derogatory statements about their looks. Attractiveness is subjective.
I also find scornful statements about people “aging badly” dismaying. We age at different rates for different reasons. Many times people who “age badly” have health issues that contribute to their haggard appearance, and making derogatory comments about a given person’s appearance is hurtful not only to that person but to other people who may not have “aged well” themselves, or who care about someone who hasn’t “aged well.”
My ex-husband, with whom I have remained friends, had a serious health scare earlier this year. He had cardiac problems, previously undiagnosed diabetes, a serious infection, and it turns out that he has a chronic condition called giant cell arteritis which is more common in people of Scandinavian ancestry than people of other backgrounds. (My ex-husband has Swedish ancestry.) He is 56 years old but looks much older due to all the health issues he has endured.


I was shocked when I saw this photo of the late Malcolm Young as he seemed to have aged twenty years in the space of five years. I watched the video from which this image was taken and thought that he might be developing Parkinson’s disease. His stance and facial expressions resembled those of Parkinson’s patients. 
I was correct that he wasn’t well but wrong about the reason. He had Alzheimer’s disease. His brain was literally being destroyed. He certainly didn’t deserve the cruel comments about his appearance or how he was “aging badly.” He was always a humble person who tried to treat others with common decency. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.
I watched my father age badly as vascular disease and congestive heart failure caused his body to retain fluid and caused him to have vascular dementia. At the end of his life, his legs were the color of dark purple grapes because of the lack of circulation. 
I’ve spent my life trying to see myself as simply ordinary rather than hideous. I shouldn’t have to fear the inevitable cruel comments that will accompany any image of myself that I share because I’m not conventionally attractive or young. On a good day, I don’t give a fuck about people’s shitty comments and small minds. On a bad day, it can make me suicidal.
Since I don’t want anyone making me feel bad about my physical appearance, which is one of those “luck of the draw” things and I drew the wrong lot, I have a policy of not dragging other people for their physical appearance, no matter how much I dislike them. Not Mishmash (who, to be honest, is ordinary looking as far as I’m concerned, but behaves like an utterly reprehensible asshole.) 
Not even tRump, whom I despise with a burning passion. I may sometimes ridicule his clothing choices because with the money he has you’d think he could afford someone to advise him on what to wear, but I will not ridicule his physique. His physique is not what’s causing derision and damage to the United States. His crap demeanor and rubbish policies are.
I will call them out on their behavior at any time, every time, all the time. Their looks? Pfft. Whatever. It has no bearing on anything.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~


Wednesday, August 8, 2018

The Cheese Grates It: The Racist, Classist, and Sexist Roots of Weight Loss Culture

Medical Community Logic

So, as I have written about a few times in the past month, I had some recent bad experience with my doctor and I've been trying to decide what to do.
I have an eating disorder. Technically EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified) but it most closely resembles bulimia even though I don't physically purge at this point.
I have diabetes (along with other endocrine malfunctions) and so the guilt gets heaped on me double with my eating disorder. I have it under better control than I used to, but I'm food insecure, so sometimes when I'm having to ration food, the E.D. part of my brain starts praising me for not eating, repeating the old "hunger hurts but starvation works" mantra. Eventually, I stop feeling the physical hunger and become kind of detached from reality. When I eventually eat, it is generally not something approved by the American Diabetes Association. It might not even be in particularly large quantities, at least not for a person who doesn't have diabetes, but since I'm supposed to curb my carbs, it ends up spiking my blood sugar and elevating my A1C.
I wanted to freaking punch my doctor when my last blood test came back with slightly elevated triglycerides and she had the audacity to ask me if I had been "indulging in treats." I've told her I'm food insecure. I snapped at her that given that I'm food insecure, as I've already told her, any damn food is an "indulgence." No, I'm not sitting in front of the soap operas gorging on bonbons, which is, for whatever reason, what we fat ladies are always supposed to eat. I doubt I've ever eaten a dozen bonbons in my entire 53 (mostly fat) years on this planet.
I'm so numbed out by a lifetime of disappointment and abuse that I literally can't cry anymore. These days when something bad happens I say "well, here we go again" and I withdraw. Anger tends to be the only thing that prevents me from doing myself in. That and the fact that my son still needs me.
Honestly, I'm disappointed as fuck that with as progressive a state as Colorado is supposed to be, I have found exactly zero doctors in the Denver/Boulder area with a Health at Every Size approach. The doctor that I'm currently seeing (and I'm probably going to go back to my previous doctor) does not provide, as she claims, a "safe space" for larger people. Oh, on the first visit she acted like she's going to treat me with a semblance of humanity, but by the third visit, out came the old "my patients who have had weight loss surgery are all doing very well" hype. Yeah, providing a bench so bigger people don't have to squeeze into a small chair with arms does not make you size friendly. 
Well, Lady, after a month of stewing over this shit, I've come to the conclusion that it is not this fat broad's fault that you suck at taking a larger person's blood pressure. My old doc may have been half-assed, but his staff was top tier. Even though my current doctor is very thorough, I can't stand her attitude. I think I'm better off with the half-assed dude. He only made me want to punch him about half the time.
I feel guilty about firing this doctor because if it weren't for her, I'd never have found out that I have a uterus full of fibroids and polyps, and it needs to come out because it increases my risk of uterine cancer. I wouldn't have mentioned the post-menopausal bleeding to my old doctor, mostly because I'm not comfortable discussing that kind of crap with men. Unfortunately, the doctor who will probably be performing the hysterectomy is a man, but the procedure he uses involves less invasive methods and therefore less healing time, which is an excellent selling point.
I don't know if I should tell my current doctor why I'm not returning, or if I should just ghost. I really don't much want to talk to her again. I doubt she'll learn anything from what I have to say anyway. She could have been a great fit, if only she'd actually lived up to her promise of providing a safe space for larger people and not been a lying liar shilling for weight loss surgeons.
The pressure on women to appear youthful, thin, and pretty throughout our entire lives is based on extremely sexist ideals, and even supposedly progressive women buy into these ideals without question. We are supposed to be a certain kind of pretty to please men. 
Younger women tend to be more compliant than mature women, so women are supposed to aspire to look young, even if we were born during the Roosevelt administration. As it happens, I was born during the Johnson administration. So, expecting me to look like I'm an eighteen-year-old ingenue is unrealistic and offensive as fuck to boot. But, this leads me to my next point.
A smaller, more slender body type tends to be associated with youth and, therefore, vulnerability and compliance. Women are supposed to aspire to appear delicate and fragile rather than sturdy. As well, women tend to gain weight after giving birth. Mothers tend to give more attention to their children than to their husband. A woman who is focusing her attention on nurturing children rather than pleasing her lord and master is not to be desired. So, even if a woman has ten children (i.e. Catherine Dickens*), she is to aspire to have a maiden's body.
A larger body type has come to be associated with gluttony. Thus, a large woman is seen as focusing on feeding her own appetites rather than accommodating the desires of men.  
(*Charles Dickens, amazing writer though he may have been, was more than a  bit of a shit when it came to his wife, Catherine, whom he denigrated for having become fat in the course of their marriage, in which she gave birth to ten children. Dickens' eleventh child was the product of his affair with Ellen Ternan.)


The push for a chiseled, athletic body type in both men and women also has roots in the ideals of the Aryan Superman stereotype, such as in this image from the cover of a 1938 publication. Encouragement of an often impossibly slender and youthful kind of beauty by any means necessary is a holdover from the Nazi idea of a perfected (white) race. I am certain that weight loss surgery would be lauded by Dr. Mengele himself.


Conversely, this image of a middle-aged Jewish man with pronounced jowls and a double chin is touted as undesirable and to be eradicated.
Ageism is also inherent in the push to retain youthful slenderness throughout the entirety of one's life.
The medical community should be ashamed of themselves. Their intolerance keeps larger people from seeking care until their situation becomes catastrophic. The fact that only fat people who are sick tend to seek medical care allows the medical community to perpetuate the lie that fat = sick. Further, to treat an ill and frightened person who has come seeking help with shame and scorn is the opposite of doing no harm.
In modern times, poor people are more likely to be heavy than those in the upper class. Poor people tend to be unable to afford medical care and thus are only seen when their situation has become catastrophic, allowing doctors to argue that they have brought their misfortune upon themselves by not seeking preventative care.
The medical community likes to claim that weight loss surgery (stomach amputation) is a low-risk procedure. It is not. Here is some food for thought regarding weight loss surgery, courtesy of Big Fat Science. Few other elective procedures come with this much risk attached.
The medical community is not infallible. They also used to believe that trepanning and thalidomide were miraculous medical interventions, and look how well those turned out.


The medical community needs to embrace the Hippocratic Oath to "first do no harm," even if this means accepting that most of their patients will never be perfect. They need to treat all of their patients with compassion and respect, even the patient who is so addicted to nicotine that she can't stop herself from smoking although she has emphysema or has had part of a lung removed. (Both people I knew, as it happens.) 
Even the alcoholic who can't stop drinking although he has cirrhosis of the liver. 
Even the drug addict. 
Even the fat person who actually does eat enormous amounts of food. Most fat people do not, in fact, eat more than thin or mid-size people. I've known a few thin people who could easily eat more than I do. 
Even the diabetic who eats nothing but simple carbs. 
People's behavior is more complex than just flipping a switch. There are psychological as well as physical components. And with fat people, trying to control their weight through deprivation dieting generally leads to--you guessed it--weight regain and then some. This post on starvation syndrome is worth a look.


Diets don't work, mutilation of a healthy digestive system is unconscionable, and people are the size they are for a variety of reasons. We need to reject the sexist, racist, classist, and ageist notion that Number Twelve should look Just Like You. 

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~



Saturday, July 21, 2018

The Cheese Grates It: Fuck Your Fat Suit Wearing Bullshit



This is a clueless, conventionally attractive, thin privileged asshole in a fat suit.


This is an actual fat person. Also appearing: Crowley.
I don’t like sharing pictures of myself because people are assholes and are going to say stupid and obvious shit like “ur fat!!11!!!”, but I wanted to make a necessary point. Hopefully, one day we won’t have to make such points. It’s a huge fucking waste of time, and I’d rather be doing something else. That being said:
I don’t think I’m beautiful in any way, shape, or form, so don’t try the old “ur just trying to force all the menz to think ur beuateeful, u old fat bitch!!!111!!” crap on me. I don’t care if anyone thinks I’m beautiful. I don’t think I’m beautiful. But I do think I’m human, and I think that all people, regardless of whether or not they are “beautiful”, deserve to be treated with common decency. If you’re the sort of person who only treats people you deem “fuckable” kindly in the hopes that they will fuck you, you are a horrible person and need to fuck off now.
I have been both thin and fat during my life. When I was in my teens, I starved myself down to 108 pounds. I am five foot six now. I was probably a little over five foot four at that point. I have a big frame. There is no way I should ever weigh as little as 108 pounds. If I do, there’s something badly wrong with me.
Not that I need to justify my body to anybody, but I have a dead thyroid gland sitting in my neck being dead. I have polycystic ovarian syndrome. I have type 2 diabetes, which onset when I was in my late 40′s and didn’t surprise me at all considering that my endocrine system is a complete dumpster fire. My pituitary doesn’t work quite right and I have some features of Cushing’s syndrome, although I don’t have the typical Cushing’s body: large upper body and thin legs. My weight is evenly distributed.
All that being said, I have a typical puffy endocrine face. I have a double chin.
I don’t look like someone slapped a clay tube under my chin the way Miss Clueless Fat-Suit Wearing Conventionally Attractive Thin Privileged Barbie Doll does.
I just look like a rather plain, garden variety, run of the mill, middle-aged fat lady that no-one would look at twice. I’m fine with that. I’m sick to fucking death of other people thinking it’s their business to tell me what to do with my body so I can look like Miss Clueless Fat-Suit Wearing Conventionally Attractive Thin Privileged Barbie Doll looks without her fat suit. No, I am not going to have my stomach amputated, not ever, unless I am unfortunate enough to get stomach cancer, and fuck you for suggesting that I should. I am not going to get injections of deadly pathogens injected into my face to smooth out my wrinkles. I am not going to have my hands bleached to get rid of my age spots. Fuck all of that ageist, fatphobic shit right to hell.
No, I do not eat all the time, so I don’t need to “lay off the Kentucky Fried Chicken and the McDonald’s.” I don’t like either of those. Further, I am actually food insecure and generally only eat one or two meals a day despite having diabetes, because I can’t afford adequate food since becoming disabled and only being able to work part time so I don’t lose Medicaid, which I need for my numerous health issues. Plus, I can’t work the kinds of physically demanding jobs I worked during the majority of my life anymore because of significant reversals in my health over the past few years. Punishing the disabled shows that a society is a huge fucking fail, if you ask me. 
And another thing:
As well as not looking like a thin-privileged asshole wearing a fat suit, being fat does not feel like wearing a fat suit.
It does not feel any different living in a fat body than a thin one. I don’t wake up every day and slap padding all over my body. The adipose tissue is simply part of my body.
If you want to depict a fat person, you need to get an actual fat person to play the part, not a thin-privileged Barbie doll in a fat suit.
Also, shit like “Insatiable” needs to not exist. It is inaccurate, it is offensive, it is mean-spirited, it is disgusting. This real, actual fat bitch says “enough.”

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~