How do some people let themselves get so big?

Self loathing, based off being chubby when I was a kid and my dads response to it. I won't go into a huge long story, but in my case I self sabotaged because I was never taught that you could be beautiful at any weight. My weight was ALWAYS even from young childhood (and I was by NO MEANS FAT AS A YOUNG CHILD) just slightly bigger than my sister, anyway, I was ALWAYS told "you'd be so pretty if you lost a few pounds" and this is as a FOUR year old and FIVE year old. I still harbor anger against my dad but honestly, I know my reasons why, I know he was wrong, and I know where value comes from now (surely not from my pants size).

You can't see yourself as anything but a Monster, if you're called nothing but a monster from an early age.

Just sayin'.

This is going to be popular .. :noway:

I knew someone would say that. Grats! You are the winner, sort of. Maybe not. It's nice of you to give us your opinion without even knowing me at all.

Let me tell you a short story.

I went with a friend, for moral support, to her first AA meeting. Being the friendly person that I am, I introduced myself to many people and chit chatted before it all started.

I was asked how long I've had a problem. I replied with, "Oh, I don't have a problem."

I can not tell you how many people told me I was in denial. When people shared, lots were talking about denial and looking at me....

Wow, I don't even drink.

Moral of the story- get the story before you judge. Thanks.

Self hatred, depression, denial, etcetcetc

Not for me. No. I have always loved myself.
For me, food is/was a hobby. Developing new recipes and trying new things. I was always cooking and baking for a crowd. When there was no crowd around, that meant more for me. Yay!

I never had a problem with being fat until I couldn't touch my toes and being physically exhausted for days at a time. That was my rude awakening that something needed to be done but I never felt shame, abused, lonely, or unloved.

Until I started MFP, I never really realized how many calories I was actually taking in.

So, I'm not cooking for a crowd anymore. I am trying new recipes that are low fat, carb, and calories. My life is a different kind of party now and I still love and respect myself.

*I am only speaking of my own experience. I can not and will not answer for anyone else.

Not trying to nitpick, but what you described actually falls into the denial part of his answer.

Well okay then. I mean, it just sounds like letting things get to the point where you can't touch your toes, are physically exhausted and then diagnosed with diabetes is being a bit being in denial about the weight gain affecting your life and health.

Self hatred, depression, denial, etcetcetc

Me personally I agree with this, I have come to realize that I hated myself , and was completely depressed. It's like a slow suicide, you just completely give up and don't care what happens anymore. When nothing makes you happy anymore, except for maybe that 10 mins your eating chips or something. Of course the more weight you gain, the more depressed you become, and it just becomes a vicious cycle.

This exactly.

I went from 120 lbs at age 23 to 203 lbs at age 36.

Growing up, my home life was pretty chaotic - Mom and Dad constantly fought with each other, and therefore my sisters and I constantly fought with each other. Dad was cold, barely touched us, never said I Love You unless it was pre-printed in a greeting card for the rare holiday. Mom was overly affectionate and used me (the oldest) emotionally as a substitute for her husband since she couldn't get affection from her own. So I spent my childhood longing for Dad and pushing my Mother away from me (smothered).

I was a chubby kid and got bullied a lot in school ("hey, do you float in the pool?", etc.). I didn't know it then, but I now realize I was very depressed during those years. My mom took me to Weight Watchers and Jazzercise when I was 11. I loved both and by the time I was 15 I had shot up a few inches and got down to 114 lbs. But I remained seriously depressed and angry.

In my mid-20's, I met a man who quickly became my "everything". He was the prince I'd always dreamed of (hello, daddy figure). He made me so happy that I immersed myself in his life. He was british, a soccer player, a talented videographer, extremely funny, made good money, and had great taste in music...and food. He took me out to eat sometimes for every meal during the weekend. I had never tasted Thai food before in my life, for example, but he introduced me to it. I had never had a good wine, and he showed me how to pick one. It was a super sensual relationship filled with concerts and restaurants and films and romantic events...and lots of attention. I probably gained 15 lbs from eating out alone, plus I believe I was completely lost in this man and his affection. Meanwhile, he had the metabolism of a racehorse and nothing stuck to his body.

When he broke up with me, I felt my life was over. By then, I had experienced so much pleasure from all that rich food that I could no longer seem to stop eating it. And I hated myself for letting him get away, which fueled my depression, and fueled me into the food even further. I probably got up into the 140's at that point but somehow managed to hold steady there for a long time.

In 2002, I met another man whom again, I fell hard for, and he was athletic and loved to eat (and drink). There were many stressful aspects of our relationship, not the least of which that I was sick a lot that year, and we traveled every other weekend to another state to see his children. But again...I was looking for happiness in another person, so I lost touch with my own life and sense of self...my friends, family, church, and hobbies. This was my fault, mind you! But again...I became lost in the man....and the food. Trying to escape the sadness I normally drowned in.

By 2003 I had gained FIFTY pounds and found myself neck-deep in a full blown food addiction. That year was a total blur. I don't remember much, except I DO remember the food. Lots of "moments" with food: stopping at Target for Dark Chocolate Moose Munch, then at Ray's Ice Cream Shop for a huge cup of Moose Tracks (what was with me and moose's? lol), then through KFC drive through for the combo meal. All evidence was thrown away before I got home, so that no one (including myself) would know what I'd done.

I was probably eating 5-6 desserts a day, easily. If there were huge cookies from a deli leftover after a meeting, I would go into the kitchen when no one was looking and ferret 4-5 of them out in a napkin. Then I'd eat all five before leaving work, and I'd obsess about having another one. Sugar simply didn't make me sick like it did normal people. I could eat almost a whole cake and still want more. I ate relatively healthy when people were looking, so they were confused as to where my weight came from. They didn't see me downing the four cupcakes I'd gotten at that specialty bakery after work.

I did that for another decade. Every SINGLE morning I woke up and said, "today's a new day! Today I start my new diet! I will start eating better! I will lose weight! I won't eat sugar anymore! I am a new woman!"....... and by 10am I'd already eaten a Snickers out of the break room vending machine. The desire to change, matched with the lack of control, was so painful that I had to eat over it. It was a horrible, vicious cycle. I could not get out of it. I wanted to, but I was trapped.

When you are in the grip of an addiction, you live as if you are strung up by your arms and legs. Paralyzed, unable to move this way, or that. Depression and denial keep you in a zombie-like state, where you feel like you're moving through molasses. You feel helpless, hopeless, angry, sad, and ashamed. I can't count the times I thought, "what's the use? Might as well just eat and eat. No one cares. No one knows. You'll never escape. You'll always be this way. So just give in." And you do. On the one hand you want to stop....on the other, you don't because it feels sooooo good to drown in the food. You are literally torn between two worlds and a slave to the cycle of eating and restricting that spins between those worlds.

I won't go into the long story about how I got out of it. That's a tale for another day. Just know that I DID escape and I HAVE reached my goal and I WILL never go back. :happy: But you wanted to know how we got into it, so there you go. That's my version of it. Hope that gives you some insight.

I was 321lbs at my heaviest & my weight never bothered me really. I could still do athletic things, I had no aches or pains as you would expect someone my size to have. As I've always been big I'd imagine i've just conditioned myself overtime to adjust to the size. It never stopped me in anything so it never came across my mind to lose weight. No denial, no depression, no self-hatred, nothing like that.

but yeah fat people know they're fat, they're sadly reminded by most people around them who would rather mock the point than actually suggest that they might have an issue that needs sorting.

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Beats me!

I knew I was fat. I, on some level, didn't realize HOW fat. And I only say "self loathing" because when a daddy tells a little girl how jealous she must be of her sister, and that she'll never get married or fit into a cheerleader uniform if she "keeps going the way she's going", how can you not hate yourself? I had NO idea what LOVING myself was. I was even bribed by my dad to not eat, or only eat lettuce or spinach or vegetables or whatever for money. ALL BEFORE I TURNED 7. Don't get me wrong, I love my dad now. But he had some major issues w/ narcissism, and I never understood that being so young.

This was all HUGELY mentally twisting for me. I was manipulated into thinking that the first man who was supposed to love me, would only love me if I was the right weight. Eating for me was used as a punishment. I was 'rewarded' for good behavior with junk food (which was completely counteractive) and punished by taking away food and being grounded if they caught me with junk food that they didn't give me (per my father, if my mom would've had her way she'd have stopped it). I constantly, in my mind, felt I was being deprived of something good. So I snuck food, binged, would eat bowls of cereal in my bed at night repeatedly. My sister learned behaviors from my dad, and chastised me for eating.

My case is beyond different from a lot of peoples, I get that, but honestly 'fat shaming' is more common than people realize. ALL of my friends growing up were overweight. Most of them had some kind of similar issue (though not as severe) as mine.

Self hatred, depression, denial, etcetcetc

This + low self esteem, dysfunctional home life, bullying, abused, tormented, neglected need I say more.

ALL of the above!

SydneyDeb!!


VegasDeb here

I knew I was fat. I, on some level, didn't realize HOW fat. And I only say "self loathing" because when a daddy tells a little girl how jealous she must be of her sister, and that she'll never get married or fit into a cheerleader uniform if she "keeps going the way she's going", how can you not hate yourself? I had NO idea what LOVING myself was.

I totally understand where you are coming from. The ***** who gave birth to me walked out when I was a baby and my Dad's family has never let me forget it to the point that as a child I was told by an aunt that I was so hidious that no one would ever love me, even my mother didn't! Nice thing to say to a 5-6 year old!!

I've always struggled with self confidence and image issues, too ugly and fat to care but I'm trying to turn that around. It's a bloody slow process, I wish the weight came off as fast as it goes on

Self hatred, depression, denial, etcetcetc

Me personally I agree with this, I have come to realize that I hated myself , and was completely depressed. It's like a slow suicide, you just completely give up and don't care what happens anymore. When nothing makes you happy anymore, except for maybe that 10 mins your eating chips or something. Of course the more weight you gain, the more depressed you become, and it just becomes a vicious cycle.

This was me for a LONG TIME. I was overweight when I graduated high school (around 200 pounds at 5'9) and I got that way because kids can be vicious, and sneaking snacks at night after my parents went to bed was my comfort. over the next 6-7 years or so I gained about 100 pounds.... which is only a pound or two pounds a month, so it was pretty slow, and I just didn't want to acknowledge it. But every time I had to buy bigger pants, it would depress me more. Every effort to lose weight would be derailed around the 10lb mark because I just *couldn't* take it anymore. I didn't know how to do it right, and I would eat as little as possible for about a month, and then binge for several days, repeat.

Sprinkle in some horrible experiences with guys with my first few forays into the romantic world, some job losses, and other upsetting events in my life... Well, some people find comfort at the bottom of a bottle, I found comfort at the bottom of a pint of ice cream.

By that time though (mid 20s), I figured it was a lost cause... and the people around me didn't help with that. The "why bother?" attitude of those who I felt comfortable enough to discuss my weight loss goals with eventually got to me, and I stopped trying... until I got engaged and managed to lose over 50 pounds.

Then I went through several more stressful events (and again found comfort with my buddies Ben and Jerry) and gained it back plus some over the course of the next couple years. And now at 30, I've decided to try AGAIN. I'm almost 40 pounds down again this time around, and have managed to do this through a very stressful time. It's a good learning experience for me, and hopefully I can keep it off this time.

I've always known I was fat, and it's always bothered me... just sometimes it didn't bother me enough to stop finding comfort in food, which for a long time was the only source of comfort I could find. (I'm a bit of an introvert)

Endocrine diseases (i.e. diabetes, insulin resistance, metabolic syndrome, hypothyroidism, Cushing's, Addison's)
Hormonal imbalances (i.e. cortisol)
Tumors (i.e. insulinoma, carcinoid syndrome, pituitary, adrenal)
Pregnancy
Chemotherapy medications
Antidepressants
Mental illnesses (i.e. depression, anxiety, eating disorders, etc.)
Poor diet
Injuries

Nice list! There are so many reasons why people end up gaining weight. It is rarely a simple story for anyone.

In my case, I had a rogue tumor that kicked my thyroid into a tailspin. 6 years of failed treatments, medications with terrible side effects, and crippling depression pushed me toward 300 lbs. I finally ended up at 325 from binging on junk food (the only thing that gave me any comfort during that time).

I was too sick to pay attention to my weight. The merry-go-round of doctors visits and chronic exhaustion put weight loss at the bottom of my priority list.

Thank goodness a doctor discovered the tumor before it killed me. I had a successful surgery and found a therapist to stop the binging. Coming to MFP was the final step in learning to be healthy again.

The highest weight I ever got up to was 238. That was right after my mother died and I just didn't care about myself anymore. I gained the weight quickly and lost it in a few months. I'm assuming that people are depressed like I was and don't realize that they are getting that big. I didn't realize that I was gaining that much weight until I saw pictures of myself and didn't recognize the person in the picture.

For me, food was an issue from the moment I figured out what food was and how comforting it was to eat. I was the fat one in a very slender family. My average weight was 200 pounds in high school (I'm 5 ft 4.5), and my highest was about 220. I battled with bulimia after my mother died, but I was still fat. The journey of rebuilding a new relationship with good has been a long one (at least 20 years), but it's been, and still is, worth it.

I used food for comfort, companionship, and to deal with many traumatic things I was forced to keep inside. Now, the gift is that I don't have to do that any more because I have the correct tools to deal with emotions, and a whole other set of tools I use for food issues.

I was addicted to food and I also knew almost nothing about health and nutrition. This is embarrassing but I didn't even have a notion of calories, carbs, fats... etc. until I was about 20. I just never paid attention or thought it was important. I knew I was fat because I ate too much and I ate fast food all the time, but I didn't actually understand the biochemistry aspect of it. I also just didn't care....