Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Apologies

I am adept at Fat Girl Protocol.




Dictionary.com defines protocol as
1. the customs and regulations dealing with diplomatic formality, precedence, and etiquette.


Fat Girl Protocol is the set of customs and regulations on how to live as a fat girl within the social construct that allows the individual girl to have the freedom to twist the perspective of those around her to believe that she is just a fat girl who "has no idea how it happened" and "has no idea why it won't come off". There are some protocols that through my personal observation do appear to be universal.  Most are tailored to the individual.  There is another part of FGP that while it does, is not intended to deceive; and that is the part that allows us to alter ourselves, traits, and personalities to just survive in a world where people don't understand and judge us based on our fatness.   This is where I am the Queen of FGP. 


This is also why I'm sorry.


Part of my protocol was in keeping my world small.


It's a protection really.


Even when blogging my deepest, darkest fears to the masses.  My real world was small.


I held onto my weight because I was hurt.  Hurt by dirty, nasty people.  Hurt by insensitive people.  Hurt by regular "joes" that really didn't do anything than rub me the wrong way.


Keeping your world small can be difficult, but I am a pro.  Here are some of the ways I did it.


1. Be very judgmental.  The more pious you are the better.  Say a lot of things to true friends and family like, "I know I'm a big girl, but at least I love people." or "I'd rather be fat any day than stupid like ***fill in the blank***.


2.  Be very funny.  Cross the line funny.  Keeping those around you in stitches is time better spent then allowing them to have the opportunity to be real with you about their concerns for you.


3.  Try "just enough".  Make just enough effort for it to look like real effort, but don't actually make real effort.


4.  Never like anyone right away.  As a matter of fact, hate everyone right away.  That way if they're assholes you're right and if they're not you can always tell funny stories about the time you thought they were.


5. Be unapproachable.  Same reason as above but in reverse


6.  Never get to know anyone that isn't integral to your daily survival.


Long before my physical body changed, I just got tired of FGP.  I decided to stop working so hard to be accepted and just accept myself, everyone else be damned.  This is where everything changed for me, but in some cases the change was too late.


In 2011, I went on a field trip for Autumn's kindergarten class to the "farm" belonging to one of the teachers.  There was a picnic, activities, and water play.  My kid was in heaven.  I WAS MISERABLE.  I hated people because people didn't understand me at 300lbs. or they didn't want to...I don't know, but the last thing I wanted to do was to be categorically ignored for 8 hours like I was less than human.  I took up residency under a tree and figured that I would live there until it was time to go.  All the parents chatted with everyone, but me.  Look, I'm not blaming them now.  I get it.  I was anti-social.  I was in my head.  I was following FGP to the tee, because if they are talking smack about me now, it's because they were bigoted against overweight people and was because of surface me, not the real me.


While I was spending my time fat and sweaty beneath the tree, a woman approached me.  She was in a neck brace.  I asked her if she needed help spreading out the blanket she brought with her, but in my head I was thinking.  "Why?  Why here?  This is my tree!" She introduced herself as Barbara and she asked which one was mine.  I pointed Autumn out to her and she told me her son's name was Royce.  We had polite chatter.  Very pleasant.  She was nice.  At the end of the day, I said the goodbyes and the "see ya arounds" that you don't really have to mean when you live in a rural area where there is no chance of running into anyone anywhere.


I saw her once again at a parent volunteer meeting later that year.  We exchanged pleasantries and I immediately decided that I did not like these moms.  I was new to the area, they didn't know me, they didn't give two hoots if I lived or died.  This was my first and only parent volunteer meeting.  Barbara waved as I left and said "It was nice to see you".


Out of sight and out of mind.


Last summer, she sent me a friend request on Facebook.  I was already in a different mindset as a person, more comfortable with me and others.  It was evident from her photos, that I stalked immediately, she had been receiving treatment for breast cancer.  I immediately felt bad and thought, "she has always been so nice to me."  I prayed for her.  I didn't physically see her again until this spring when Autumn was inducted into the National Honor Society.  She was all smiles and ran up to me right away, hugged me and gave me kudos on my progress.  We chatted for a minute and went our separate ways.  I saw her a few days later at a band concert, where I emphatically waved and smiled at her and she replied in kind.  I never asked how she was doing.  Not because I didn't care, but because we weren't friendly like that.  I didn't want to be invasive and intrude into private arenas where I am not welcome.  I did care, I just didn't know how to express it.


Last night, Barbara passed away.


Amazing woman of faith, mother of two young sons, gone too soon.


And now I am truly sorry.  Sorry that I ever let FGP get in the way of building friendships and conversations with brave and truly amazing people.


I have lost more than weight.  I've lost my blinders.


If I have ever seemed dismissive, uncaring, or unapproachable to you...I am truly sorry.  Know that it is me, not you and I am working on it.





Thursday, April 27, 2017

Everything is AWESOME

Hi.  It's me.


Everything is great! 


No.  Really!


I have lost about 80lbs total. Things have started slowing down.  I've failed at staying active with the intention of exercise, but I'm back on track.


So much has happened since I blogged last. (Isn't that always the way.)


I went zip lining  with my hubby for our anniversary and conquered a fear on top of doing something that had never been an option when I was heavier.  I love to shop.  Not in like an obsessive way, but in the way that I am wearing clothes that are nice, they fit, and I feel proud to wear.  Every time I fit in a 18 or 16, I'm like really?  Is this really happening? This is a totally weird feeling because I remember being in high school and my mom taking me to Fashion Bug because they sold plus size clothes.  I remember putting on 18's like it was yesterday and being so down on myself.  I had no idea what life laid out in front of me and how much living I was capable of at that point.  It felt oppressive and sad.


Today, I'm in the same place and it is such an overwhelming liberation that I'm sometimes scared that I'll go to sleep, wake up and find that this is all a dream.


So as of today...I'm signing up to do my first 15k.  That is 9.32 miles.  That is scary distance, but it must be done.  If I'm not moving forward, I'm standing still, or even worse getting vacuum suctioned into my past.  I believe at this point it is going to be great to challenge myself.  So far, I have a good friend signed up to do it with me, but I am looking for other participants as well. Who better to run with you than a community of people who know how hard you worked to get here?  You know what else?  They offer a 5k as well,  so if that is your starting point come out and let it be with us, Chicas who know what it's like to pick yourself up by the bootstraps and power on.  You'll have plenty of time to train because it is not until 12/10/2017.  Its called the Hot Chocolate Race in St. Louis Mo. and they are doing early bird sign up right freaking now...lol





Thursday, January 12, 2017

Failure WILL NOT Kill Me

Today was the first day that my Timehop had a post laden with anger towards my Dad and his flip-flopping end of life decisions, his reaching out to people he hadn't spoken to in 40 years for advice instead of hearing the voice of his family, and his disregard for anything meaningful.


I hate the bitterness.


Bitterness turned to action.


My Dad gave up on life, his wife, his children, and his grandchildren.  He gave up on me.  This man who "responded well to dialysis" when he chose to do it,  just up and decided it wasn't worth the hassle and quit his life-saving treatment, then changed his mind right before he was dying, only to change it back to giving up after he had been given enough treatment to allow him to live a shallow existence for a few more days.


As much as you can want someone to live, you can also beg for it to be over.


I wished that he would say something poignant, apologize for not being there, and spend his last days telling me everything I should have been told by my Dad in my 40 years of life.  I wished that he would tell me that he loved me and I would believe it.  For the first time, I would feel like this man who was directly involved in bringing me to life would make me feel like a person he truly loved and not like a person he would've easily thrown away had it not been for the paper trail.


...but wishing will not make it so...


He died at 59 years old from failure.


Failure to act.


Long before dialysis, there was failure to take diabetic oral meds, failure to take insulin, and failure to change his diet.


Diabetes or kidney failure is not what killed him.  His failure to treat them did.


He died on 02/05/2016.  Over the next month or so...I struggled to care..not about life in general, but about him not being here.  I wanted to miss him, but I didn't.  He had long been gone for me longer than he had been physically gone and I was angry that I was not enough for him to choose to fight.  I couldn't understand how you could be presented with medical options to treat your illness and NOT utilize them.


Then it hit me like a ton of bricks...AM I DOING THE SAME THING?  Is my total disdain for weight loss surgery preventing me from treating my illness?  The answer I settled on was yes, so I took action.


I'm 12 weeks post surgery today.  I am down 60lbs.  I have lost the equivalent of my 9 year old daughter. 


I still wish I missed him, its not from lack of trying.  I understand now that there is nothing wrong with me if I don't.


Here's to deciding to live.