Tuesday, June 04, 2013
My job regularly takes me to the city's homeless shelter. Having done a year-long internship at The Salvation Army, nothing at the shelter is really all that shocking to me anymore.
But there was something that caught by eye today and I've been thinking about it a lot ever since. There was a really, extremely morbidly obese person sitting in a chair. I'm not good at estimating people's weights, but he was easily one of the biggest people I've ever seen in person.
I don't know what is was about him. He just had this look on his face. A sad look. A really, really, sad and empty and painful and kind of haunting look.
I would like to know his story, though that could just be me being nosy.
I think Biggest Loser, Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition (or whatever it's called), my gym, and maybe even Spark People have made me forget about the pain, and sadness, and despair that can accompany obesity. All around me, in my little bubble world, I see people reaching goals, running marathons, trying new recipes, working out beside me. I see motivation, and celebration, and achievement, and--well--happiness. Which is fantastic. But I think I've seen the mountaintops so much I've forgotten about the people and the experience in the valleys.
Here this guy is--morbidly, morbidly obese. Plus, he's homeless. The whole experience just made me feel really incredibly sad, though I'm grateful for that feeling actually.