Why am I fat? :omg:
Boy, I've been in therapy for years, uncovering my issues. It is like peeling an onion. Sometimes the skin just falls off and other times I really have to dig, and it comes off uneven and smelly. One thing I do know is that FOOD is a lie, not the answer, and fat is the result.
I think I am fat because I convinced myself when I was a toddler that food was the comfort I needed. Food was survival. My eating seemed to please the people around me and was reinforced with smiles and "good girl." (However, I wasn't "fat" at this time, just a little short and round)
Then in early adolescence I was told over and over again that I would be FAT if I kept eating so much. But eating was how I gave myself comfort, used to make others happy, and helped me feel safe. When there was tension at home I ate to feel better. Like fat could protect me from the scary world. A self-fulfilling prophesy I gained weight. (I gained 10 - 15 pounds above a normal weight )
Into adolescence ( I got my period at age 10) I was scared of my sexual development and found that fat covered my desirability. I was shy and didn't want to be different from others. I was desparately lonely and frightened. If I was round my breasts weren't so big. Parents started an all out campaign to get rid of the extra weight. I dug in my heels, couldn't understand the dramatic change from "You're gonna get fat," to "You are fat," "OMG you embarrass us!" Dad was a pediatrician and mom was a sociallite. I felt ashamed, ignored and unloved. I ate for comfort and protection. Eating was the only mechanism that I knew. (My weight went up another 30 - 40 pounds, especially documented with weekly weigh-ins at my father's office - another type of torture, but attention.)
The tension of an early adolescence seemed to ease in teen life. More freedom of movement and expression. The constant focus on my weight eased when mom got pregnant. I went on a starvation diet and got down to "normal." Which I maintained into college. Still emotionally clueless, ripe for frequent gain/loss patterns. (After college I was within 20 pounds of "normal")
The rest of my life followed the similar patterns of my early life, however, the problems were bigger and longer and so was the eating. Several diets were attempted, WW, Nutrisystem, Optifast, Weight Loss Center, each time losing some and gaining more.
At age 40 I was back to a normal weight after 6 months of Optifast ( from 169 - 120), easiest diet ever, because I didn't have to deal with food. But I living with and alcoholic abusive husband, had two adopted 3 year old sons and a full time job. I ate all those pounds I'd lost and 20 more just to get a sense of safety, security, stability - kind of like ballast for my life.
I divorced the abusive/alcoholic husband and two years later found the love of my life. My first boyfriend, Ira. He loved me like I never been loved and life was great for two years, and then he got really sick. It took 3 years for him to die at age 52, and about 25 more pounds.
Since that time efforts at weight loss seem to work for about 25 - 40 pounds, but now I am around 220. I am 57 have some medical issues that are weight related and am still wanted to feel safe and comfortable.
I have done some positive things for myself.:clap2:
1) Work out 4 to 5 times a week & with a trainer 2xs/wk
2) Retired from teaching (very stressful job)
3) Express my artistic side through painting and quilting
4) Maintain my health through medication, which has brought me here. I believe that I need the banding for support during the rest of my life.
I am an emotional eater, and I know people have been able to get around the banding by eating ice cream, etc. but I have decided that I deserve to have a healthy life. (this is my new mantra)
So that's my story, not unlike the millions of stories out there. I think there is healing in the writing, so thanks for the opportunity.
If I hit a nerve of recognition in anyone, I understand because I see myself if what you share. We are a community of people who have turned to food for comfort and security - but it's been a lie. Food doesn't really make me feel better, or take care of my fears, or cover my sexuality or help me cope with stress.
:rockon: I deserve to live a heathy life.