I hate my body image. I hate it even more by the reactions I get to it from some people.
Up until 2005, from my years in High School, I was 6 foot 2 and a solid 170 pounds. If I ate a lot or a little, if I played sports (I am no sports player, but we played volleyball and softball with friends so I was active, the weight never changed.
In 2005, upon news that my mother and father where in an auto accident and my mother was killed on impact, I started to get sick. I was diagnosed with, over months/years with many medical conditions and given enough steroids and other medications to choke a horse.
Since January of 2005 I have gained over 220 pounds. It came on suddenly and snowballed. Most of the gain is due to medications, along with my now limited physical activity brought on by the medical situation.
I do my best (Since I now have diabetes) to watch my diet, and I move as much as I can, but I readily admit it is a lot less activity than I used to get.
Now on to my rant. Not to brag but I consider myself intelligent…..or somewhat at least. I used to say I was not born with looks or a personality but I was with brains. In 1999 I managed to obtain my Ph.D. and then completed a postdoctoral fellowship. I worked in a very cerebral job and loved every minute of it.
But then the accident happened and my life changed.
When I talk to nurses or people at the hospital, or new doctors who I do not know, they treat me as if I am just as dumb as a mound of dirt. Things get explained to me as if I am a child. This does not just happen in the medical area, but also in the retail one, etc.
I also get treated like, since I am severely obese I must eat a ton of candy and sweets and not know any better. This along with examples of fat shaming, engaged in by society at large to doctors and nurses in particular, I find myself ready to scream.
I am just sick of it all. It is a catch-22 for me. I always try to look on the bright side of life, and exert myself more, eat even healthier, etc., but then the crap happens, I get depressed (severely) and the positive changes go away.
So please try to be more understanding to those of us that suffer this illness. I am doing what I can to combat it, know it is unhealthy, and doing what I can to modify myself. The last thing I need is your derision for it.
I will finish this diary on a lighter note, as I always try to do….