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.

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Fudge #WEP

 

If you're hell-bent on using this picture of a pan of fudge, go right ahead.

Critique guidelines:

Major points only. Given the subject matter, I can foresee this becoming a real shit show otherwise.

http://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.com

August 1

I made fudge. If you need a fast chocolate fix, this is the quickest ever.

1 bag of semisweet chocolate chips

1 can of sweetened condensed milk

1 teaspoon of vanilla

Pour the sweetened condensed milk and chocolate chips into a bowl and nuke them for one minute. Add the vanilla and stir until smooth. Pour into a parchment-lined 8x8 or 9x9 pan. Refrigerate for 2 hours. Eat.

This recipe is the epitome of me in the kitchen. I don’t do anything that involves a lot of prep work.

I am once again recovering from severe emotional dysregulation.

I feel hopeless. Even my writing is like horrible homework.

I want to do the writing part of writing and leave the promotion part to someone who knows what the hell they are doing. I am not a social butterfly. I am more of a social pill bug. If I see someone coming, I curl myself up into a ball and hope they won’t notice me. Unfortunately, at my size, it’s hard for them to miss me.

Social pill bugs tend not to be treated well, even at the doctor’s office. Dr. Deborah Serani, a psychologist who lives with clinical depression, writes about this phenomenon in her excellent Psychology Today article.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/two-takes-depression/201905/medical-shaming-and-mental-illness

This vitally important takeaway from the article sizes up (Heh! See what I did there?) the attitude that heavy people and patients with mental illness just “aren’t trying hard enough.”

In 1948, The World Health Organization defined health as a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being. Regrettably, it didn't take into account chronic illness or disease and the layered challenges individuals face with such conditions. While the definition of health has changed over the years, most professionals - and the general public - believe health is a state of well-being that a person "earns" or "maintains." This social construct goes like this:

If you eat well, you will be well.

If you exercise, you will be fit.

If you don't have good mental health, you just aren't trying hard enough.

And that those who can't, won't or don't achieve well-being are just weak, lazy - or worse - need to be shamed to get it done.

Shaming doesn’t work, but even doctors, who are supposed to be so much smartier than the rest of us, don’t understand this. If shaming worked there would be no addicts of any kind. There would be no fat people, and nobody would have mental health problems. Everyone would eat the exact right amount of the exact optimal kind of food at every meal. Nobody would drink alcohol, smoke cigarettes or weed, snort cocaine, inject heroin, or become addicted to pills. Everyone would be content to do the jobs assigned to them by those in power.

I recommend re-reading Brave New World. Or reading it for the first time if you haven’t read it yet.

As for me, if hating myself thin never worked during the thirty-three years I tried to do just that, it sure as fuck ain’t gonna work now. The doctor should have berated my thyroid, which killed itself and thrust me onto the path to largeness when I was just thirteen years old. She should have berated my ovaries, which developed PCOS once I was old enough to menstruate. She should have berated my pancreas, which waited until I was 49 years old, but then joined my thyroid in death.

If anything, this woman of medicine who is so much smartier than me should have berated me for becoming bulimic at twelve and starting down a path of lifelong food insecurity, both self-imposed (dieting) and involuntary (not having the money to buy adequate supplies of food while social services tells me I make too much money to qualify for assistance.) Better yet, rather than berating an old broad coming to you because she has a fucking sleep disorder and the sleep specialist said she should, why not berate a society that allows food insecurity and pushes people to hate their bodies?

TREAT THE PATIENT, NOT THE CHART!

This doctor, by the way?

A pulmonologist.

I was there to find out if something was awry with my lungs, not to have bad drugs with serious side effects suggested to me on the slim chance (see what I did there?) they might turn me into the svelte, slinky vixen that every woman is supposed to be.

I am not unaware of my size nor of the theoretical correlation between my size and conditions. However, I’m working on making peace with my body and food because dieting and eating disorders (among other factors) have caused me serious trauma. Even if I remain at my current size (given my history, this is the most likely outcome) my overall health will still improve if I am receiving appropriate care for my underlying conditions.

I guess everyone would have been happier if I’d lived fast, died young, and left a good-looking corpse.

Fuck all of them.

I look out of my shell and realize I’ve failed at my goal of opening people’s eyes to the way bias against troubled people or those who don’t conform to a certain rigid standard of beauty and acceptability hurts the world.

I am aware that I’m ugly.

Those who puff up their egos by shaming those who don’t conform to their standards don’t realize they are ugly too.

I had a couple pieces of the fudge. I think I prefer cookie bars.

Not that it’s anyone’s business, but I don’t eat dessert after every meal or even every day.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by HK Mennist from Pixabay

It should go without saying, but I know it doesn't. Comments such as "but it's unhealthy to be fat," "but if you just eat less and exercise more," and "but if you just tried the sawdust and metal shavings diet" are not welcome.

As for the first comment, I'm not going to waste time debating with you. Go read this book. 

https://bit.ly/HAESCIE

As for the second comment, I am excellent at starving myself. It is my first reaction to being size shamed, along with suicide ideation. I can't engage in orthorexia the way I used to because of my back problems. Go read the aforementioned book.

As for the third comment:

Fat Friday #13: Dismissal of Fat Women's Health Concerns

"Health Professionals" be like

Excess exposure to cortisol can result in endocrine problems such as Cushing's syndrome. One of the presenting symptoms of Cushing's syndrome is weight gain and difficulty losing weight. Yet most doctors will scold larger women, admonishing them to "just lose weight", regardless of what the patient tells them is going on. 

I have issues with every endocrine system in my body. I have hypothyroidism and diabetes. I had PCOS, but being two years post-menopausal, my ovaries are now atrophied. I have been begging doctors for years to screen me for Cushing's syndrome, but they refuse to do so.

I don't care about being thin. With my endocrine system, I'll never be thin unless something catastrophic happens. What I do care about is the fact that excess cortisol exposure can lead to heart problems. Currently, my heart is fine. I would like to keep it that way for as long as possible.

NaHaiWriMo 2018 #8: Monkeying Around + The Fight Against Perfectionism

Notes:

Click the image to enlarge.

"So then I artistically blurred my photo to give a sense of moving back through time."

Nah. I moved my hand while the photo was being taken.

"But why would you want to use a photo like that? Any photographer worth their salt would delete it forthwith!"

I don't really consider myself a photographer. I'm a person who takes pictures because I enjoy it. 

This blurry photo isn't without its merits. It inspired me to create this Haiga of questionable quality.

Nobody is ever going to consider this to be a high-fallutin' work of art to rival the classics. But it is fun, and it illustrates the idea that you can make your mistakes work for you.

I have been battling perfectionism all my life. Embracing my mistakes is helpful for me. Perfectionism is an extremely destructive quality. I would like to share the ways in which it has harmed me from various perspectives.
In this post, I would like to share how physical perfectionism has caused untold harm to me and many others. Some of what I share involves my own perfectionism, and some of it involves the unrealistic standards which society imposes upon people.

On a physical level, we live in a society which demands that Number Twelve Looks Just Like You. We are supposed to aspire to a certain standard of beauty and fitness, and, if we fail to achieve such, we are deemed failures not worthy of even basic decency in the way we are treated by others.
However, rather than inspiring everyone to become super duper supermen and women, this attitude has a tendency to backfire. You end up with people who do not trust doctors because doctors continually shame them for their physical appearance or failure to be compliant with regimens that it may be impossible or intolerable for them.
So, instead of engaging in a program of regular visits to the doctor for preventative care and maintenance of chronic health issues, people avoid going to the doctor until they experience a critical problem. This helps no-one.
When my current doctor addressed my slightly elevated triglycerides (a common issue for diabetics) with "have you been indulging in treats?" I snapped. I said "I make twelve thousand dollars a year and generally eat only one or two meals a day. I eat what I can afford to purchase. I do not 'indulge.'"
In spite of the fact that this doctor is by far the most effective doctor that I have ever seen, I am considering going back to the guy who was burned out and had no fucks to give, because my current doctor has given me ample reason to mistrust her. The 'indulging in treats' bit is mere sprinkles on the body-shaming cake.
This doctor presented herself as offering a 'safe space' for larger people, and, during my first visit, appeared to live up to her promise. Thereafter, she suggested weight loss surgery and blamed my abnormal endometrial thickening on "obesity."
If you want your larger patients to believe for a second that you have any respect for them, you need to ditch the "o" word. "Obesity" is "other." "Obesity" is a pariah. "Obesity" is shit. "Obesity" is always said with a sanctimonious sneer. If you use that word, I do not trust you.
Abnormal endometrial thickening is correlated with a larger body type, but correlation is not causation. It is also correlated with being over fifty (guess I need to step into an age-regression machine), white (guess I'd better start tanning), and diabetic.
A larger body type is also correlated with type 2 diabetes. Again, correlation is not causation. I am inclined to think that abnormal pancreatic function is a strong contributing factor in both the tendency to gain weight and the endometrial hyperplasia. There may be a third factor which causes all of my endocrine issues. A heavy body type is correlated with endocrine issues, but it did not cause these issues. In fact, the reverse is true. None of my endocrine system works properly. It would be highly unlikely for me to have a thin body unless I were to become deathly ill, regardless of how little I eat or how much I exercise.
So, having a bench in your waiting room rather than just chairs with arms does not constitute offering a "safe space" for people of all sizes. I don't trust you, and that makes for an ineffective doctor/patient relationship, regardless of your ability to diagnose and possibly treat health problems.
People are not inclined to take care of things they hate, and that includes their bodies. While cleaning out my storage unit, I found numerous artifacts from the many years I spent trying to hate myself thin. Looking over the awful things I wrote about myself, thinking about all the money I spent playing a game that almost nobody wins, realizing that I caused wear and tear to my body equivalent to the harm done to it by the many years I spent working long hours at physically punishing jobs, thinking back on the times when I was sometimes spending five hours at the gym when I should have been spending that time with my son, I became extremely depressed.
To top it all off, none of this shit brought me to the goal of Magical Thinness, which would have won me the Handsome Prince with the Exactly Correct Body Fat Percentage, a billion dollars for every pound I lost during my incredibly successful "weight loss journey," fame and adoration of the masses, or anything but a far thinner wallet and a soul filled with self-loathing.
Thinspo is crap. Fitspo is crap. Dieting is crap. It's all harmful. None of it will bring you happiness, and it won't even bring you health. It will bring you self-loathing and turn you into an awful person that nobody likes.

Dieting is not about health. It is about perfectionism. The pressure to be perfect is purely for profit. Stop paying into a system that doesn't give a damn about you and thrives on your failure.

"In the long term, dieting is a spectacular waste of time for everyone except statistical unicorns." --Louise Adams

~Cie~