Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Over the last couple of years, my mom has lost a substantial amount of weight because of stress and worry. She's gone from a solid 16 to 10 (and even the 10s are becoming baggy). When my Aunt and Grandmother were extremely ill, she altogether stopped eating for a while except for the few cups of coffee she'd have every morning. After my Aunt and Grandmother finally passed away, she was able to get some meat on her bones, but not too much. Cut to the last 6 months and she's gradually settling into her new size and enjoys every moment of it. As someone who was big her entire life (maybe a 16), she's happy and she deserves to be.
My mother's obvious glee at being a couple of sizes (depending on how bloated I am) bigger than me is beginning to grate my nerves a bit. It's not just the snide comments at the size of my belly or how my 12s are way too big for her, it's her overal attitude that is getting to me. Where's the sensitivity? Where's the support?
Like many of my SparkBuddies, I was always a big girl, was even a big child. Despite knowing that I probably shouldn't be eating the things that I did so young, my mom let me eat with abandon never stopping me even when she had the power to do so. I don't ever recall her stopping me from overeating or putting vegetables on my plate. The only time I HAD to have veggies/fruit was when I was at my Grandmother's house every summer. I don't blame her for my weight ballooning when I was in high school and college, but I do hold her accoutable for my younger years. Anyway, the comments started a few months ago when I was struggling to get back to my December weight and have been a lot more frequent than I'd like lately. Just last night, I was talking about a friend who was complaining about being 135 and she chimes in, "I'm not thin, I'm only 150lbs!"
Me: "Um, excuse me?"
Ma: "I'm not thin, I've still got weight to lose! I'm a big girl!"
Me: "Come back to me when you're not at least 50lbs lighter than me and you're not a size 8/10."
Ma: "The doctor says he wants me to lose more weight."
Me: "I understand that Mom, but don't complain to me about being 150 when I've been seeing a 2 before my weight for the past 6 months."
These kinds of conversations have been happening a lot lately and I'm not sure what to make of them.
Me: "God, I can't wait to get rid of this belly."
Ma: "It's still pretty big, but it's not as big as it used to be."
Perhaps I'm being too sensitive, perhaps I'm jealous. Perhaps. Am I giving her fuel for the fire? Perhaps. Despite the setbacks I've done extremely well. I'm keeping up in my fitness classes better than ever before and am toning up nicely. I've got more muscle in my legs than she does on her enitre body. She never exercises and has no plan on doing any. Any mention of physical activity is bemoaned. I shouldn't be affected, but I am. It hurts. I just feel like no matter what I do, I cannot escape my Mother and her incessant bragging. I'm not sure of what to do besides answer back sarcastically or ignore her completely. Besides these instances, Im concerned that the Depression, anger, anxiety and frustration that my mother has been experienceing the last 6 months are turning her into someone I no longer know.
So much is changing around me, heck, I'm changing but why does my Mother have to? Why can't she just stay the wonderfully supportive person I'd run to with every little issue? I guess it's all part of growing up, but man why must she be so nasty to me? Why must she say the things she says or make fun of me for being bigger than her?
I've got to fight the negativity or it will certainly consume me.