On the precipice

Last weekend I had an epiphany about how fat can be treated in our culture. Granted, this is largely biased by my own experiences and propelled by my own fears.

It's like you're standing on the precipice, and with each bite of (bad) food you're inching closer... and closer... and closer to falling off the edge into death's waiting arms.

I was reflecting on some recent conversations I've had with my friend S about being fat (we both are), and remembering an unpleasant moment I had with my mother in law in regards to green coffee extract ("I'd like to buy some for you! I saw it on Dr. Oz! It's supposed to be a miracle!"), and also thinking about my sister who died almost 10 years ago due to fat-related health issues (go ahead and call it "obesity" if you must, now that it's an official diagnosis). I wondered in my head: What, truly, is the fuss over fat people?

No doubt I've posted about this before (and am too lazy to find when I did in order to link back to it!) so I won't go on and on about it again. In a nutshell, I think that fat represents something that people don't like to look at because it reminds them of what they could be or what they have been, or it reminds them of a loved one who is fat and struggling and they wish they could save the person (but they can't). It's a little bit like the concepts of cognitive dissonance and subtle contempt that are part of anti-racism theory.

In my life I've had a lot of exposure to people who are on drugs, and to clarify I'm speaking of drugs that are considered "heavier" than alcohol and marijuana. In instances where the person on drugs was a close friend, I would feel sickened by seeing my friend high and I would almost always remove myself from watching him or her use because that was even worse. Those were times when I would sadly think, "this person is on the precipice."

I have a hard time seeing others apply that to a fat person they don't know and his/her perceived eating or health choices. A few months ago I eavesdropped on a conversation between a not-fat couple who we were seated next to in a restaurant, in which they were looking at a very fat man across the restaurant eat his burger dinner. "That is so sad. He obviously needs help," said Person A. Person B replied, "Totally. He should have ordered a salad instead of that burger. He's a heart attack waiting to happen." That's about the time I asked Honey Bunny if we could please re-seat ourselves elsewhere.

The existence of Overeaters Anonymous is also a hard one for me. On one hand, I don't understand how food can be considered an addiction when, unlike alcohol, drugs, sex, gambling and shopping, it's necessary to eat on a daily basis for survival. On the other hand, whether or not a person is considered an "addict" can sometimes be very subjective although thankfully there are documented objective characteristics of addiction, care of the American Psychological Association. There are many shades to an addiction and what constitutes an addict vs. addictive behaviors, in my opinion.

ALL of this has been rolling around in my brain lately because, unfortunately, I feel like I'm on the precipice. I'm not the type of person who openly flirts with death so I consider this more of a warning precipice. Just today I entertained the notion of going to an OA meeting, which, given what I said above about that group, should give you an indication of where my head is at. It's a good thing this article landed in my lap courtesy of a Facebook friend, for a little perspective.

I hesitate to say that what I'm going through is a "problem" because I don't want to provide more fodder for our biased culture. So instead I'll say that I'm finding my behaviors of late - eating things that do not nourish me, eating too much, not making physical activity a priority - a problem for me. For the past couple months I've been chasing a ghost of my past: the physical activity gain and my weight loss successes from before I got pregnant (much documented on this blog in latter 2010 and early 2011). As none of the strategies that worked at that time are working currently, it's time to give up the chase and find something new, to find something that will work for me now. I'm not okay with being on the precipice but I'm also not okay with, as the saying goes, trading seats on the Titanic. I don't want to become consumed with trying to lose weight in the same way that I'm currently consumed by my desire for copious amounts of food and sugar. I don't want to feel like I can never relax or have time off from being physically active in the same way that I'm currently adverse to engaging in anything active. I want to remember that food is not the enemy and that being physical enlivens me, and not feel like I have to change just because I'm standing on a precipice. But, getting there... I'll probably have to walk through all of it, bad and good, thick and thin, before any sort of balance is attained. That's just me.

And my last parting shots are thus:
I refuse to hate myself for awakening to find myself on the precipice.
I refuse to hate myself because I love food.
I refuse to hate myself for my clothes fitting tight.
And I especially refuse to hate myself because other people, whether well-meaning or full of judgement, think that I should just because I'm fat.