Tonight, I found myself watching an old episode of Oprah that I recorded a few days back. Oprah first interviewed a woman named Stacey when she weighed 550 pounds. After having gastric bypass surgery, she returned to the show, having lost 300 pounds.
The thing that really struck a chord with me was the total honesty this woman had about what being fat does to a person's emotional health.
I listened to her talk about how scared she was to fly because she knew she couldn't fit into the seats. She talked about how she couldn't clean herself after using the bathroom so she had to use the shower attachment. She had to shave her face each day because her hormones were so out of whack that if she didn't shave, she'd have a beard. People would either look at her and laugh or they would try to avoid looking completely. She talked about how isolated and alone she felt.
And I realized that I'm not quite to the point she was, but I'm well on my way. The truth is that even people who talk about being obese rarely mention the really humiliating side effects because, well it's humiliating.
I'm humiliated. I am out of control. I don't think I can do this. I don't even know where to start. Every day I tell myself that today will be the day that I begin, but then I wake up and don't. It looks so easy for other people (even though I know it isn't). Why is it so difficult for me to just fucking do it? I need help. I don't think I can do it alone but I don't think I have the courage to reach out beyond this little white box.
I think about my weight every waking moment of my day. I think about how I'm ready to go home after a couple of hours of shopping. I pretend that I'm just not much of a shopper but the truth is that my feet and back ache from hauling around my weight. My weight is the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing before I go to sleep. I'm consumed with negative feelings towards myself. I am convinced that if I'm not funny, no one would ever want to be my friend.
My son is embarrassed to be seen with me at his school. He'd rather be alone at school functions than to have me there. This is not an exaggeration or a moment of me being dramatic. He has told me several times that he's embarrassed.
I have PCOS. I don't think I'm very pretty. I settle for relationships that aren't healthy for me because I am scared no one else will come along. I isolate myself. I didn't attend my work's Christmas dinner because I didn't want all of the doctors that I work for to see me eat (I wouldn't have eaten very much anyway).
My bookshelf is full of self-help books and my old journals are riddled with pages and pages of new plans and renewed energy to get with the program. I need an intervention. I cry and cry because I just don't know what to do. Yes, I know to stop eating like a pig and start moving. Yes, I know to start making healthy choices and all of the other stuff. I'm an expert at how to lose weight. I just can't do it. I can't make it stick. I sabotage myself.
And now, I'm at my highest weight ever and for the first time in my life, I think I'm killing myself. I truly believe that if I don't get a grip with this, I'm going to die before I'm 40. And I have so much weight to lose, that I just feel defeated before I even begin.
Maybe I'm finally experiencing my rock bottom. But, I'm so terrified of failing that I'm having a difficult time even beginning.
The tears just keep flowing. If only they weighed something.
Posted at
09:40 PM
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Just leaving positive thoughts for you! *hugs*
Posted by Maggie at January 7, 2006 12:53 AM
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Self-Made Man 