Let it all out!
CarolineSuzanneSmith
Posts: 127 Member
Everybody has those little "fat reminders" that have collected over the years...the stories that we hold on to that remind us why we are losing weight. For example, a mean comment somebody said to us about our weight, or a horrifying experience at a clothing store where you couldn't find your size, etc... Well I thought it would be therapeutic if we were to just get rid of those snarky comments. I'll go first....
Here it goes!
-Many of my childhood pictures, up until the age of 10, consist of me posing with my three sisters. We were all cute, happy, and thin (in the healthy sense). Somewhere along the way, I developed a thyroid disorder-a very, very common disease that affects millions of people on earth. However, this hypothyroidism remained undetected for several years--years in which I gained weight, lost confidence, gained several painful memories of name-calling, and ultimately became so unhappy with myself. I've harbored those painful memories with me for all these years; even today, at the age of 22, I can hear the name-calling that happened 10 years ago, and those remarks still hurt me and wish I had a different body. The majority of those memories are listed below... by writing these memories for all to see, I'm hoping that I will somehow "free" myself of the haunting side-effects they have had on me.
-Because of the "Presidential Fitness Assessment/Awards," every student in the sixth, seventh, and eighth grade had to be measured for their height and weight. We had two gym teachers-one was responsible for actually measuring, while the other was responsible for recording. However, to keep the crowd of sixth grade girls from getting too rowdy, one teacher was at the front of the line (measuring), and the other was patrolling the rest of the line (recording)..so they were never actually standing next to each other; thus, our measurements were yelled across the gym for the one teacher to record. In sixth grade, I reached 100 pounds. All of my peers were still at a good 85-90 pounds. I stood on the scale, and Mrs. League measured my weight. Literally, she let out a small gasp (apparently she'd never seen an overweight kid before??), and called across the gym, "Caroline, 101 pounds. I am in no way kidding or over-exaggerating when I say that several, SEVERAL, of the other sixth grade girls started to laugh. I was, and still am, mortified.
-Also in my sixth-eighth grade years, we changed from our regular clothes to our gym clothes for P.E. It seemed like every girl in my P.E. class was so excited to change in front of the other girls-to show off their skinny figures. For me, it never failed: I changed alone in an empty stall-I would never let any of those girls see me, with a tiny bit of flab here and there. For changing in an empty stall, I was made fun of.
-Growing up, I was the "tomboy" of the family, and played a variety of sports, from soccer, to basketball, to softball. In eighth grade, I had my best friend over to my house, where I showed her some of my trophies and pictures from when I played sports. She looked at my soccer picture, where I was really lean and cute, and turned to me, completely serious, and said, "Wow, you were so pretty and small back then...what happened?"
-In seventh grade, I had my first dance. Surprise, surprise...I was about the only girl that wasn't asked to go with a boy. However, my friend at the time (the "friend" above), told me that I absolutely had to go to the dance. So, my mom and I set out for a new dress. Nothing fit. So, the next best thing was for me to wear a suit. Yes, a suit. I had a khaki skirt on, with a reddish top, and a matching khaki jacket. I looked like a seventh grader going to a job interview, not her first dance. I wore the suit because it was the only thing we could find at the store...none of the prettier, girly dresses fit me. When I arrived at the dance, my "friends" immediately started laughing at me. I spent the entire dance sitting by myself at a table watching all of the other girls dance with boys and having a great time.
-When I moved to Winchester, MA to begin my ninth grade year, I was sitting in English class when the teacher (who knew I was new) asked me to stand up at the front of the classroom and tell the other students about myself. Standing in front of people has always made me nervous, because I'm always afraid they are assessing my weight and internally making fun of me. So, because of my nerves, I started to blush really bad. The teacher then asked me what I did over the summer break, to which I replied, "Oh, I went to Puerto Rico with my family." The two boys in the front seats, out of ear-shot from the teacher, turned to each other and said, "Man, I'd hate to see her in a bathing suit." Other boys and girls that heard their remarks joined in at laughing at the new, fat kid.
-Because of my insecurities, I ate every single lunch alone, in front of my locker in an empty hallway, for my middle school and high school years that was spent in Winchester. I had no friends.
-Whenever I went for a routine physical from our pediatrician, Dr. Bob, I remember always hating the part where I had to weigh myself. I knew it was never a good weight, and that I would probably be ridiculed by the doctor for my weight. There was one particular physical in which I was terrified to undress and have the doctor examine me. After Dr. Bob had assessed my fat and eating habits, he wrote in big letters at the top of my chart SEVERELY OVERWEIGHT, and proceeded to underline those words several times. I, truly, can still see those words written on that chart, and I can hear his pen underlining those words right in front of my eyes.
-In tenth grade, I was talking to a guy-friend (purely a friend) during history class. I think we were joking back and forth with each other when I probably said something ridiculously sarcastic (sarcasm is my way of keeping people at a distance...to avoid any talk about my weight). Apparently this guy didn't like what I said, so he turned around and said (very loudly, in front of the rest of the classroom), "Shut up, you heifer." Kids being kids...the rest of the class laughed at me and the situation. (This guy did apologize eventually...luckily for me since we are now in the same family).
-I love my dad, and he had absolutely no idea what he was doing or saying when he took me shopping this one day...he was just being a good dad
Anyways, as was custom at our house, we went shopping in early August so that we would have "back to school" clothes. I hated shopping. Nothing ever fit. All of my sisters knew exactly what size they were (size 0 or 00), while I had absolutely no idea where to even start with the jean sizes. I was 16 years old when our family went to the gap. I was a size 8. I think I tried on a size 6, which obviously didn't fit (I was being hopeful?). So, I gave dad the jeans back and asked him to go get a new size. Dad returned to the fitting rooms with a size 16. I stared at the tag and started to cry in the dressing room. My dad thought I was big enough to fit into a size 16...meanwhile he knew that my sisters (two older, one younger) were in size 0 and 00...that is bad. I think mom knew I was upset, and I told her that dad had gotten me a size 16 because he thinks I'm that fat. Mom said something to dad, in which dad told us, "Well, I thought she was a size 16 because she is 16 years old." To dad's credit, he had a semi-valid point...so I am in no way mad at him for any of this. I just remember that panic that first set in when I thought that my dad thought I was big enough to fit into a size 16.
-My junior year of college, I ended up fitting into a size 14/16 quite comfortably. Pathethic for my 5-foot stature.
-Once while getting a pedicure with my sister and mother, the lady painting my toes looked at me and said, "Your sister is skinny like your mother, but you are much fatter." I kid you not.
-Christopher, my loving, wonderful husband, has never picked me up. I refuse to let him. I am literally terrified that I will break his back. I know Christopher's weight...he does not know mine. This time last year, I was 20 pounds heavier than him.
-Last year, I started to get really, really bad headaches. I just assumed it was stress-related, but Christopher had been telling me for months to go see a doctor. I ignored him. I hate doctors...they always want to check my weight. In August, I went to Vision Master for an eye exam. While checking my eyes, the doctor basically informed me that my optic nerves looked "very suspicious." She then went to her office and returned with a HUGE encyclopedia/text book of eye diseases and flipped to "Pseudotumor Cerebri." She then asked me if I had been having any headaches lately, to which I told her, "Yea...but they are stress-related, not eye-related." The doctor then started listing all of these symptoms for Pseudotumor Cerebri...all of which I had (nausea, headaches, dizziness, etc...). She told me, "It basically means you have too much fluid surrounding your brain...and this is usually seen in overweight females." I. WAS. TERRIFIED. I immediately called mom, who came to Vision Master to get the 411 from the doctor. From there, we went to see dad...and the list goes on and on. After an MRI (to rule out a brain tumor) and a spinal tap (to relieve spinal fluid pressure), I was told (by four doctors) that I needed to lose weight...and that this weight loss (along with several medications) would help reduce the swelling of the optic nerves due to increased spinal fluid in the brain. If I didn't lose the weight, I would go blind. Something clicked, and I started to lose weight...35 pounds at one point. Then, it was the new year, I started my student teaching clinicals (for my Masters in Education), and my wedding was five months away. I stopped being as diligent as I was before, and told myself, "Ah, you've done so well thus far...you deserve to spoil yourself until the wedding." Well, I gained back about 10 pounds of that 35 lost. Luckily, I still weigh less than Christopher...but not by very much. On my wedding day, I do think I looked beautiful, but I was still very insecure about my weight, and some of the wedding pictures I don't really like because my arms look too flabby or my face looks too pudgy.
And...that's about it! I feel better. Anybody else want to share some stories?
Here it goes!
-Many of my childhood pictures, up until the age of 10, consist of me posing with my three sisters. We were all cute, happy, and thin (in the healthy sense). Somewhere along the way, I developed a thyroid disorder-a very, very common disease that affects millions of people on earth. However, this hypothyroidism remained undetected for several years--years in which I gained weight, lost confidence, gained several painful memories of name-calling, and ultimately became so unhappy with myself. I've harbored those painful memories with me for all these years; even today, at the age of 22, I can hear the name-calling that happened 10 years ago, and those remarks still hurt me and wish I had a different body. The majority of those memories are listed below... by writing these memories for all to see, I'm hoping that I will somehow "free" myself of the haunting side-effects they have had on me.
-Because of the "Presidential Fitness Assessment/Awards," every student in the sixth, seventh, and eighth grade had to be measured for their height and weight. We had two gym teachers-one was responsible for actually measuring, while the other was responsible for recording. However, to keep the crowd of sixth grade girls from getting too rowdy, one teacher was at the front of the line (measuring), and the other was patrolling the rest of the line (recording)..so they were never actually standing next to each other; thus, our measurements were yelled across the gym for the one teacher to record. In sixth grade, I reached 100 pounds. All of my peers were still at a good 85-90 pounds. I stood on the scale, and Mrs. League measured my weight. Literally, she let out a small gasp (apparently she'd never seen an overweight kid before??), and called across the gym, "Caroline, 101 pounds. I am in no way kidding or over-exaggerating when I say that several, SEVERAL, of the other sixth grade girls started to laugh. I was, and still am, mortified.
-Also in my sixth-eighth grade years, we changed from our regular clothes to our gym clothes for P.E. It seemed like every girl in my P.E. class was so excited to change in front of the other girls-to show off their skinny figures. For me, it never failed: I changed alone in an empty stall-I would never let any of those girls see me, with a tiny bit of flab here and there. For changing in an empty stall, I was made fun of.
-Growing up, I was the "tomboy" of the family, and played a variety of sports, from soccer, to basketball, to softball. In eighth grade, I had my best friend over to my house, where I showed her some of my trophies and pictures from when I played sports. She looked at my soccer picture, where I was really lean and cute, and turned to me, completely serious, and said, "Wow, you were so pretty and small back then...what happened?"
-In seventh grade, I had my first dance. Surprise, surprise...I was about the only girl that wasn't asked to go with a boy. However, my friend at the time (the "friend" above), told me that I absolutely had to go to the dance. So, my mom and I set out for a new dress. Nothing fit. So, the next best thing was for me to wear a suit. Yes, a suit. I had a khaki skirt on, with a reddish top, and a matching khaki jacket. I looked like a seventh grader going to a job interview, not her first dance. I wore the suit because it was the only thing we could find at the store...none of the prettier, girly dresses fit me. When I arrived at the dance, my "friends" immediately started laughing at me. I spent the entire dance sitting by myself at a table watching all of the other girls dance with boys and having a great time.
-When I moved to Winchester, MA to begin my ninth grade year, I was sitting in English class when the teacher (who knew I was new) asked me to stand up at the front of the classroom and tell the other students about myself. Standing in front of people has always made me nervous, because I'm always afraid they are assessing my weight and internally making fun of me. So, because of my nerves, I started to blush really bad. The teacher then asked me what I did over the summer break, to which I replied, "Oh, I went to Puerto Rico with my family." The two boys in the front seats, out of ear-shot from the teacher, turned to each other and said, "Man, I'd hate to see her in a bathing suit." Other boys and girls that heard their remarks joined in at laughing at the new, fat kid.
-Because of my insecurities, I ate every single lunch alone, in front of my locker in an empty hallway, for my middle school and high school years that was spent in Winchester. I had no friends.
-Whenever I went for a routine physical from our pediatrician, Dr. Bob, I remember always hating the part where I had to weigh myself. I knew it was never a good weight, and that I would probably be ridiculed by the doctor for my weight. There was one particular physical in which I was terrified to undress and have the doctor examine me. After Dr. Bob had assessed my fat and eating habits, he wrote in big letters at the top of my chart SEVERELY OVERWEIGHT, and proceeded to underline those words several times. I, truly, can still see those words written on that chart, and I can hear his pen underlining those words right in front of my eyes.
-In tenth grade, I was talking to a guy-friend (purely a friend) during history class. I think we were joking back and forth with each other when I probably said something ridiculously sarcastic (sarcasm is my way of keeping people at a distance...to avoid any talk about my weight). Apparently this guy didn't like what I said, so he turned around and said (very loudly, in front of the rest of the classroom), "Shut up, you heifer." Kids being kids...the rest of the class laughed at me and the situation. (This guy did apologize eventually...luckily for me since we are now in the same family).
-I love my dad, and he had absolutely no idea what he was doing or saying when he took me shopping this one day...he was just being a good dad
Anyways, as was custom at our house, we went shopping in early August so that we would have "back to school" clothes. I hated shopping. Nothing ever fit. All of my sisters knew exactly what size they were (size 0 or 00), while I had absolutely no idea where to even start with the jean sizes. I was 16 years old when our family went to the gap. I was a size 8. I think I tried on a size 6, which obviously didn't fit (I was being hopeful?). So, I gave dad the jeans back and asked him to go get a new size. Dad returned to the fitting rooms with a size 16. I stared at the tag and started to cry in the dressing room. My dad thought I was big enough to fit into a size 16...meanwhile he knew that my sisters (two older, one younger) were in size 0 and 00...that is bad. I think mom knew I was upset, and I told her that dad had gotten me a size 16 because he thinks I'm that fat. Mom said something to dad, in which dad told us, "Well, I thought she was a size 16 because she is 16 years old." To dad's credit, he had a semi-valid point...so I am in no way mad at him for any of this. I just remember that panic that first set in when I thought that my dad thought I was big enough to fit into a size 16.-My junior year of college, I ended up fitting into a size 14/16 quite comfortably. Pathethic for my 5-foot stature.
-Once while getting a pedicure with my sister and mother, the lady painting my toes looked at me and said, "Your sister is skinny like your mother, but you are much fatter." I kid you not.
-Christopher, my loving, wonderful husband, has never picked me up. I refuse to let him. I am literally terrified that I will break his back. I know Christopher's weight...he does not know mine. This time last year, I was 20 pounds heavier than him.
-Last year, I started to get really, really bad headaches. I just assumed it was stress-related, but Christopher had been telling me for months to go see a doctor. I ignored him. I hate doctors...they always want to check my weight. In August, I went to Vision Master for an eye exam. While checking my eyes, the doctor basically informed me that my optic nerves looked "very suspicious." She then went to her office and returned with a HUGE encyclopedia/text book of eye diseases and flipped to "Pseudotumor Cerebri." She then asked me if I had been having any headaches lately, to which I told her, "Yea...but they are stress-related, not eye-related." The doctor then started listing all of these symptoms for Pseudotumor Cerebri...all of which I had (nausea, headaches, dizziness, etc...). She told me, "It basically means you have too much fluid surrounding your brain...and this is usually seen in overweight females." I. WAS. TERRIFIED. I immediately called mom, who came to Vision Master to get the 411 from the doctor. From there, we went to see dad...and the list goes on and on. After an MRI (to rule out a brain tumor) and a spinal tap (to relieve spinal fluid pressure), I was told (by four doctors) that I needed to lose weight...and that this weight loss (along with several medications) would help reduce the swelling of the optic nerves due to increased spinal fluid in the brain. If I didn't lose the weight, I would go blind. Something clicked, and I started to lose weight...35 pounds at one point. Then, it was the new year, I started my student teaching clinicals (for my Masters in Education), and my wedding was five months away. I stopped being as diligent as I was before, and told myself, "Ah, you've done so well thus far...you deserve to spoil yourself until the wedding." Well, I gained back about 10 pounds of that 35 lost. Luckily, I still weigh less than Christopher...but not by very much. On my wedding day, I do think I looked beautiful, but I was still very insecure about my weight, and some of the wedding pictures I don't really like because my arms look too flabby or my face looks too pudgy.
And...that's about it! I feel better. Anybody else want to share some stories?
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I have one quite similar to yours. In third grade they were taking our height and weight for some reason, but they wrote it down on the board where everyone could see it. I was the second largest in the class, weighing in at over 100lbs. The only person bigger than me was this boy who was freakishly tall for a boy that age. It was EMBARASSING.
Oh, and another time in 1st grade. They separated us by our weight. Biggest to the front and smallest to the back. Yep, I was standing in the front all by myself and all the other kids were laughing at me. No wonder I escaped within myself, and developed severe social anxiety that didn't even start to go away until long after I quit school. (I got my GED later on. I don't regret quitting. I was on the verge of suicide because of how I was being harassed over my weight.)
But it didn't stop at school. I'd come home, and still do, to a family who believes that women can't get anywhere in life unless they look like a model. My dad and brothers were constantly telling me how I'd never amount to anything because I was fat and guys don't like fat, employers don't like fat. The only way I'd ever accomplish anything was if I found a man who'd settle for me, and then I was to keep my mouth shut, cook dinner, and keep the house clean.
Wow, no wonder I have depression issues. LOL
I try to suppress this stuff because it's painful, but it helps to get it out in the open.0 -
I developed an autoimmune disorder and have no platelets and had to go on a REALLY high dose of steroids. I gained a lot of weight and my face and body swelled and reddened really bad. Im pretty sure I might rather bleed to death than go back on steroids... People can be so cruel, and honestly, when you know youre not the person on the "outside" that you are on the "inside" it really hurts your confidence! My own grandma didnt recognize me
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It constantly amazes me how cruel human beings can be!
its so easy to judge someone on how they look, rather than actually get to know them.
thank you for sharing.0 -
My experiences either involve boys I was attempting to date or my mother. My mother being the worst of them.
- In the 6th grade until I graduated high school, my mother and I would go shopping for back to school clothing. It would quickly turn into her guilt tripping me for being fat and making things hard on her to find me clothing, not understanding why I couldn't be thin and pretty like my little sister or my brother, who both were active in modeling at the time.
- High School: I rarely went to dances as my first winter formal taught me how bad dress shopping can be. We went to several towns trying to find a 16/18 dress that didn't look like church clothing. It normally ended with myself in tears in a dressing room and my mother openly telling sales associates how ashamed she was of her daughter's figure, noting that she was a 00 cheerleader just like her other daughter (my younger sister) was at the time.
- Senior year: I started to fight back against my mother's accusations. She.. wasn't really a nice person to begin with and accused me of sleeping with her boyfriends (ew..) and staring at porn all day (my brother pinned it on me.) Her favorite line to end the conversation or stab at me was "Watch those hips, fatty. You'll knock out our walls stomping around like that." My siblings would just laugh at what she said and start making snide comments about me.
There are so many more moments like that... I no longer talk to her, but the memories of your own mother saying that stuff to you growing up sticks with me. Every time I get on the machines at the gym, it's kind of a mental middle finger salute to her.0 -
Wow I can't believe some of these stories. I never understood how people could be so mean. For absolutely no reason.
I was always heavier growing up. When I was still in a day care centre (after school until about 12, don't ask) these kids were picking on me, I had a big butt. Well this one girl kinda stood up for me and said maybe it was only when my knees were locked (generally butts do stick out more when you do that) then I said my knees weren't locked... sigh.
When we had to do wrestling in gym, I was one of only two girls who were in the highest weight class. The other girl was like a foot taller than me and all muscle. Needless to say I hated being in the heaviest group and so bad at wrestling (or any other gym activity).0 -
this makes me want to cry b/c i can relate to this so much.
i was raised by my grandparents. my grandmother was so cruel and when i was about 12 told me i might as well have been a boy b/c no man will want me. she also told when i was about 14 that b/c of my weight i might as well be a *kitten* to find someone. i was only about 7lbs overweight then.
my grandfather once told me i should want to be an hourglass shape not a square shape. then he told me how pretty my friend was ( who was pretty tall and thin for our age then) and that i should look like her. we were 13 then.
my uncle (who was about 6'5'' and pretty heavy like 250 maybe) once told me that we had the same size thighs and i should loose weight. i think i was 13 then too. i think i weighed 110 in middle school when the other girls weighed about 100 or so.
my boyfriend in 6th grade told me "if you lost weight you could be like a super model". later that year i told a boy i had a crush on that i liked him and he told me "eww your fat!" and everyone at the lunch table heard him and started laughing. i got sent home for punching him. i was like maybe 15 lbs overweight then.
what made it all better was that in high school i got taller (i'm 5'5'') and i weighed about 135 then. apparently the most popular guy in my school liked thicker girls and we dated all the way from 14 to 19. every girl in school was jealous of this "fat girl".0 -
I too can seriously relate to all of these comments and stories. Isn't it weird how these things stick to our memories like glue?!
I too changed away from the crowd in gym and was made fun of for my weight. In the 6th grade I had my first 'boyfriend' and it took me until college to realize that it was all a big joke on me. He was the most popular boy in our grade, and I really thought that he was my boyfriend. SO MEAN!
When I got into high school though, I was conversing with a plutonic boy friend and we were both complaining about wanting a date and what could we do to become more attractive. He told me that I should lose the glasses and get contacts, and lose some weight. At the time I was about 175. I quit eating that day and ended up in the hospital a couple of months later at 129 and gall bladder failure. Those few months of no eating changed my life forever. I am still afraid of food and am dealing with body dysmorphia because of it.
I did manage to get healthy by using this website back before I got married. I was back up to 175 and lost down to 145 and got very fit. But then I got pregnant with twins on our honeymoon and so needless to say, I am back up to 175 now and officially 'obese' according to my BMI even though I exercise at least 4-5 hours per week. It's so hard because in the past, I have dealt with this stress by quitting eating and I know that that is not an option any more and for some reason my brain is like "all or nothing' so I've been eating all the wrong things instead. The weight is coming off so slow and I am about worn out!
glad to know I'm not alone!0 -
Oh wow! Let me just say I started crying because my experiences were so similar and they have left me feeling so bad about myself that I have believed for the longest time that I have no worth.
Kindergarten-I want a Barbie doll for my birthday so I can play with her hair. My dad thinks they are bad for girls because it says we have a bad body image. I have no idea what he is talking to my mom about body image. Eventually they give in and get me one to dres up. (Best toy ever for clothes and hair-which I still love.
First grade-all my friends are wearing bikinis to play next to the kiddie pool. I want one and ask my mom for one, but my dad says they are to revealing. He didn't say I was fat, but all I hear is you can't wear one and look good in one.
Second grade-I start gymnastics and really excel at it quickly moving up the ranks. I have to drop out because we can't afford it, but we can afford to pay for my Dad to go on work trips right?
Fifth grade-the doctor weighs me in at 132 lbs. and I've hit 5'4". My dad asks the doctor if I'm fat. She says no, but also says I shouldn't gain any more weight. All I know is my dad thinks I'm fat like my mom who after three children weighed 30lbs more than when they got married. Of course he thought she was so fat and he treats her like crap in part because of this.
Sixth grade-I'm homeschooled for the first month and a half because the school my parents want me at is full. All I do is eat. I'm only 10 years old and I'm left at home alone all day as my dad "works" in real estate while my mom works two jobs to pay the bills. I gain almost 40lbs. and no one realizes it until we go shopping for clothes because I'm finally enrolled in school. All I did was sit, eat and watch tv because I'm terrified someone is going to come in. I learn to hide food because it's the only thing I'm allowed to do and it's safe. (We don't even realize I'm getting sick from a tumor that's growing on my ovary. I'm just getting fatter according to my Dad.)
Seventh Grade-I weigh over 200lbs., and start shopping at the fat girls store because I can't find clothes to fit otherwise.
7th-9th grade-I try out for cheerleading every year, but the advisor "forgets to call me after tryouts" one year, another year my score sheet from tryouts is "missing" and I'm told I can't try out again because I'm to fat to wear the uniform.
Sophmore Year-I help plan Homecoming, but when I go I stay in the bathroom stall most of the time because I'm embarassed I don't have anyone to dance with and I don't want to sit by myself
Junior Year-I start and join a dance team exercising for the first time in a very long time. I lose weight and feel a little better about myself. If I look at photos I can see the tumor because my left side is always swollen or sticking out in photos.
Senior Year-Dance team starts running and working out besides just dancing and I lose almost 50lbs. Still even though I've helped plan the Homecoming dances I've never gone to one. No one asks me to prom. I've never dated anyone. People compliment me on losing weight and all I think is how ugly I am because I must have been hideous before then.
Grad School-Begin to get really sick from the tumor. My hair is falling out and I have no energy.
Working-I end up in so much pain I can't breathe and I'm rushed to the ER. They remove the tumor and my left ovary and fallopian tube. My first boyfriend is nice and really supportive when I'm in the hospital, but I didn't want him to touch me and I definitely don't want him to touch me now. I have a scar that starts just under my chest and runs all the way down my stomach. I have to wear a surgical girdle because they stapled me back together and don't want me to accidentally open myself up. My blood counts are horrible and I'm hemorrhaging blood. I break up with my boyfriend because he wants me to take care of him and do things with him and I can't stand to have someone touch me. I move home to heal.
New job-I get some energy back and start working again. Grabbing lunch is the only time I leave the office. My hair starts stayin on my head, and I'm trying to take walks. I'm finally beginning to feel better, but my boss puts two jobs on my when my co-worker starts maternity leave. I teach a class in dancing, but I'm told by my boss I'm to fat to really teach anyone how to move. I finally leave because the stress was making me sick.
Car Accident-A few days later I'm in a horrible accident and left with a permanent brain injury, a broken/damaged wrist from the airbag, PTSD, and a lot of pain in my head to my legs. I can't walk or complete tasks on my own. I have to ask for help getting water. I can't hold on to a cup so I have to use one with a straw and a lid. Family members have to help me get dressed. I'm on a lot of painkillers just to lay still. Mentally I'm not doing well because I'm so frustrated and I'm having nightmares. Im finally put on antidepressants and put in therapy. I have migraines and I can't hande change. My mom has to help me put on a bra and at some points my brother has to help me so I can even get dressed. I can't wash my hair because I can't lift my arms so we cut it short when it had been 2/3 of the way down my back. The medications make me sleepy and hungry and it's all I can do to not cry all the time. Food is the only thing there and the only thing I can handle. I don't like to go out in public and I hurt to much to do more than the most basic exercises in pt. I finally gain some mobility back, but my left wrist finally requires surgery. I can walk, but it hurts to do so. I've gained more almost 40lbs. since the car accident. I'm scare of much physical activity because i end up hurting so bad, but if I don't move I hur too. If it weren't for a friend asking me to help with the theatre at the school she teaches at I would never leave the house. The guy I was dating sleeps with a stripper because I'm not enough for him since I'm to fat, and because I won't go all the way with him we break up.
Today-I'm morbidly obese. I have permanent pain that might lessen if I lose weight. I'm trying to get my life on track. My step-brother passes away and I'm struggling to stay away from the downward spiral. I still have trouble remembering things and that frustrates me. It's easier to eat more food than it is to work out. Sweets and sugar are comfort.
This is me blemishes and all. Wounds, scars, and heartbreak. Constant reminders of how I have never been good enough because I am to much or to little. My shortcomings are many, but I deserve to earn my health back and to become stronger than I've been. Even when I don't feel like it I can choose to become healthy. I can choose to become stronger and better than I have previously been. I have to choose to embrace my life where I am at instead of what I could have been. I have to accept that I will always struggle with some tasks like processing information and short-term memory, but I don't have to always limit myself because of this. I want a future that is healthy, happy, and strong. That doesn't mean it won't be hard and it won't at times be lonely; but I will choose a life worth living.0 -
I'm so glad that ya'll have felt comfortable to share your stories! We are all blessed, beautiful people capable of achieving our weight loss goals! We can't let these little memories hold us back Good luck to all of you! 0
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