Thursday, September 17, 2009
So today was a busy day but I started out by looking at other blogs here on Sparks. One in particular caught my interest. This woman just came right out and said "I am fat" and spoke directly to her oglers, mockers, and lookers of disgust in her blog entries. I was captivated by her honesty when describing the facts of her fatness. She wasn't being down on herself or negative self talking. She was just talking facts. That got me thinking for a bit this morning. Normally, I wouldn't say I was in denial about my fatness. I know I am fat, as this woman also said in her blog. I know I am classified as morbidly obese and there is a lot of evidence to prove this fact. Yet I avoid acknowledging this fact. I don't look in mirrors, I don't let my picture be taken, and when people stare I insist to myself that it isn't because of my fatness. On occasion when I do let myself be seen in the mirror or in a photo I can't believe that it is me. I know it is just like I know I am fat but somehow it all stops on the surface. I try not to let my physical limitations from being fat slow me down just because I am fat so I push harder to prove that I am not "one of those lazy fat women". But I am tired and my body hurts and I can't keep up. No one knows that it takes me days to recover after a public display of activity like planning and executing the BBQ or doing PTA volunteer stuff. I overeat mostly when alone so not even my closest family knows how much I can put away. Even my husband says that I don't eat that much. So I have come to the conclusion that I am a poser, a fake, in disguise. I am in denial. In denial of the largest part of me (no pun intended). In denial of the thing that is with me every day, every minute of every day, every second. How bizarre this epiphany seems to me. I don't know exactly what I am to do with it but it is out there. That will have to suffice for now.