Fat guy in a little coat…
Just watched a video that really hit home for me. I won’t go into it too much, I’ll let anyone who decides to follow the link do so. However, it has made me kind of delve into my own anxieties about being around people, as well as my battle with my weight.
It’s no secret that I am grieving and that it is a process. These things take time, just like anything else, and part of my process is getting healthy so I can enjoy my time on this earth in honor of the love that I lost too soon. Coming to grips with that was tough, but that doesn’t seem to be the hardest part.
When you’re overweight, like I am now, it’s really hard to hide anything. People can’t seem to stop looking at you disgusted, sympathetically, disdainfully, or a combination of the three. They have no idea what it’s like to walk around with your imbalance and personal baggage in plain sight of the viewing, judgmental public. It can be really upsetting at times, but I’ve come to realize that most people are projecting their own issues with weight onto you.
I mean, yeah, the looks do bug me, but I can get over that a lot faster than people who just feel the need to vocally point out my weight to me. They could care less that it took me years to get this big either. No, all they care about is punishing me for whatever experience they had in their personal life with obesity. Just like with racists, or any other -ist, these people have taken the soul and/or humanity away from people who fall into these categories. They can’t understand what it’s like to be whatever it is that they have decided to be a smug dick to me for. All they can see is the ghost of their pain, and what they have oversimplified the source of that pain to be. As much as I’d like to help that person, I can’t. I’m a zero, a place holder, and just like they have no hold on me, unless I give it, I have no hold on them. Whatever I say or do, will just add insult to that injury. And I can’t be concerned with that. It sucks, but that’s the way it has to be right now. I’ve got my own shit to sort out. All I can do is return their malice, with a look of understanding and hope that that soul is laid to rest.
After realizing this, I’ve begun to be a little more comfortable with my weight. Not to the point of staying this way (my joints really can’t take it, man, and trying to make it through these mid-west summers is some bullshit). Just enough to start getting out of the house more. Honestly, I think I look good for someone who’s had an extinction level event occur in their soul. Hell, I made it out of bed this morning and that’s a feat unto itself. I’ll probably always be bracing for impact, and I don’t think I will ever not be sad, but I figured I may as well get comfortable with the situation I am in now. This is probably just the waiting room to some other shit anyway, but in the end, I can’t let someone else’s stunted emotional growth get in the way of my journey to be the healthiest me I can be.