I’d still be chained to the bed…

WTH????!?!?!?! Are you serious? A man chained his 15 year old daughter to the bed because he wanted to stop her from “overeating” because he thought she is “fat??????????????” Are you KIDDING ME??

On and off for two days, Blue’s 15-year-old daughter was chained to her bed. She was found beaten and in tears — all because Blue thought she was overweight, according to a police report.

My Google Reader presents me several news stories a day that anger me, but this was one of the worst today. My father gets after me about my weight all the time, in the name of health of course, but he never chained me to the bed to keep me from eating! If he had I’d still be being chained to the bed because I’m still fat!

So, you want your daughter to weigh less, for her martial arts class. You find illegal pea and corn containers (peas and corn? seriously? I’d probably have gotten a party if my parents had saw me sneaking peas and corn!!!) and think to yourself “Oh, I’ll show her. I’ll chain her to the bed so she’ll stop heading to the fridge!!! Oh, and I’ll beat her with a stick and kick her a few times just to make sure she gets the message!”

So, let’s see, you’ve taken away her self-confidence, self-esteem, freedom, security – great job! You’ve now shown your daugher not only that you don’t find her a beautiful miracle, but that you don’t even value her safety and health. Family trust = broken.

Would you also chain your wife to the bed and kick her (or worse) if she doesn’t want to vaccum or cook your favorite dinner?!? I hope you get a clue dude.

Skinny Music?

I am definitely one of those kinds of people that uses music for motivation and to get me through tough times. I usually have my iPod on me, and I’ve recently found the joy of being able to download full audio episodes of Keith Olbermann’s Countdown and some other interesting podcasts from iTunes. When I’m sad I fire up the Chicago and Toto. When I’m happy I listen to…well…Chicago and Toto. What can I say? I really love angsty, sad, whiny 80′s type music…

I’ve found as of late that I have a tendency to listen to Pink when I’m trying to clean or get things done – the bold lyrics and beats of her songs gets my blood pumping. When I’m feeling unmotivated or tired and frustrated I normally turn to Will.I.Am’s “It’s a New Day” because it makes me think of the progress the country is starting to make and that gives me the jump-start I need to continue fighting myself.

On FitSugar I’ve now learned that someone has taken this idea of music motivation to a new level – sort of a musical “thinspiration” to go along with pictures. The CD is “Skinny Music” and it is for sale on iTunes and at Amazon.

The Skinny Music website offers testimonials, shirts, music, and lyrics. Before and after pictures beam at you with quotations from people that praise Skinny Music as the reason they’ve lost weight and now have happier lives.

Seriously? This is the way to solve the fattie crisis? Self-hating songs? Hate yourself into losing weight? Fault yourself for your fat causing you to not fit into that pair of skinny jeans hanging in your closet as opposed to being sensible and buying the correct size?

Reading the lyrics of these songs makes me cringe. The songs don’t do much more but promote the idea that you have to be thin to be hot and that life will begin when you are thin. On a similar note the songs also center around the idea that you have to be thin in order to be attractive and worthwhile as a female (as the songs seem primarily about females though some male testimonials are on the site). In particular the track “Who the Hell is That?” bothers me:

(and I said)
who the hell is that? ‘Cause it sure ain’t me!
how’d I get so fat? It’s a shame to see
something’s gone wrong with the photo quality
who the hell is that, cause it sure ain’t me

Lookin’ hard in the mirror, didn’t like what I saw
had a talking with myself and I laid down the law
gotta make some changes, gotta start right away
I refuse to live my life, looking this way

Granted I’m not a camera hog – I normally do shy away from having my photo taken. That being said – its a horrible way to be! I think what is needed though is assurance that you are fine the way you are…not a shock into thinking you have to change your looks.

There is, however, one song that does sound to be quite positive – even though it is surrounded by songs of self hatred – “Blowin’ You Off at 8″:

you dumped me at 16 now I’m blowin’ you off at 8
You told me I was fat — now honey don’t I look great?
I’ve dropped four dress sizes down, now you’re coming around
if you didn’t want me then, then you don’t deserve me now!

I cried and cried and cried the day you put me down
you said I’d gotten dumpy and you stopped hangin’ round
make no mistake about what you see
I didn’t do this for you — I did it for me

She does stress that she did it for herself and not the man…the man who she also realizes is not worthy of her time since he didn’t accept her at a size 16. THOSE, I believe, are things to sing about – taking care of yourself and not settling for anyone who isn’t looking out for you and your best interest.

I’m all for high energy workout/movement songs – no doubt about that. These songs however, this just seems damaging as it reinforces the idea that thin is the only way to live and feel/be “hot.”

What does everyone else think of this?

Dreams for Women

Ever heard of PostSecret? I subscribe to the feed on LiveJournal and every Sunday I look forward to reading the new cards that come in from people all over that choose to bear their souls to the world. I find myself disgusted by some, incredibly saddened by others, and agreeing with a good few. Sometimes I find myself reading one and thinking “wow…I could have sent this in.” I was thinking of PostSecret when I saw the image you see to your right and a few others in my Google Reader the other day.

The images are made by men and women all over and sent to Antigone Magazine out of British Columbia. The magazine is a non-profit (and non-partisan) magazine about women and politics and is sponsoring this feminist version of PostSecret asking for submissions of art expressing dreams for women. From their website:

Donations received from the Dreams for Women project will help launch the Antigone Foundation, a national organization that will encourage young women aged 10-30 to become politically and civically engaged, and to actively participate in leadership roles.

The images are stunning and I’d imagine resonate with anyone that struggles with self and gender image. I know they strike a familiar chord with me. I really encourage everyone to check them out, and to buy a calendar if you have the extra money.

Who knew “What do you want to drink?” could be such a loaded question?

I have a co-worker that eats very little besides McDonald’s. Not just a cheeseburger and fries a couple of times a week – no, I’m talking about a NIGHTLY (at least 5 nights a week) meal of a Big Mac Meal and 2 Double Cheeseburgers. Its always been a joke for the rest of us – “Where is so and so? Oh, he’s probably at McDonald’s.” Its also slightly a sore point for a couple of us that are a bit jealous that he eats all that and gains not an ounce on his skeleton thin frame (there are some rumors that he takes Adipex, but they are just rumors).

I hate going grocery shopping. I’m in that omg-it-is-so-hard-to-buy-healthy-food-when-my-budget-is-already-overshot and I-have-no-idea-what-to-fix-that-will-keep-for-a-week-and-that-I-won’t-get-bored-with-being-the-only-person-eating-it so I often don’t go shopping when I need to and end up relying on a coworker to go get me something to eat. I’m quite opposed to McDonald’s, for reasons in addition to the lack of healthy food, but every once in a while I have to rely on that McDonald’s loving co-worker to grab me something when he goes because there’s not much else open at 3AM nearby.

The other day was a day like that – I slept ALLLLLLLLL day and had no time to even root around in my fridge and look for something I could take with me. So, at 2:30AM when the food run was being made I threw an order in. My order? The chicken sandwich meal with a Coke.

“What do you want to drink with that? A diet-something?”

WTH? I’m offended by this on two levels. First – I’m a fat girl that just ordered McDonald’s. Really…what’s the point of having a Diet Coke with anything from McDonald’s? Honestly. What else? Oh, just because I’m fat you are going to ASSUME that I want a Diet Coke? That because I’m fat I should feel shame and order a Diet Coke because that’s what society wants me to do? Second – I’m a female in a male-dominated field…I’m guessing here, but I bet if a male had asked for something to be picked up his choice of drink wouldn’t have been questioned.

I turned, looked at him, and said “no, regular Coke will be fine.”

What did I get? A snicker and a smile.

Be Genderless to Avoid Facebook Weight-Loss/Hair Removal Ads

Ok, I know its been a while and I have SEVERAL things I want to blog about, but first, this.

I saw a brief mention on another journal (bear with me, I’m trying to find out where this was referenced…if you know what I’m talking about PLEASE help me out) that someone removed the gender from their Facebook account because they were sick of being bombarded with adds for weight loss products and fad diets.

I’d never thought of that but decided to remove mine just to see.

Its been a week – a week and I’ve had NO ads for weight loss whatsoever. No ads for hair removal either.

So after weeks of giving the thumbs down to ads for weightloss and hair removal and telling Facebook that the ads are offensive I find that all I had to do was tell Facebook I’m not male or female!

I wonder if you can do the same on MySpace…of course you can only be “Male” or “Female” on MySpace, but I think I’m going to try being “Male” for a while and see what kinds of ads I get…

Demotivator?

I was checking my normal life blog the other day and saw this.

The first thing you see are the girls in their underwear, followed by the word “Envy.” I guess due to my line of work I expected to see a stalker-type killer standing off to the side. No. Instead I see a fat girl. The fat girl off in the corner in the dark. How cliche. How presumptuous of the “creator” to say that what the girl is feeling is envy? Perhaps it is sorrow or pity.

A few years ago sure, I’d probably have felt envious myself. The setting seems to be a communal bathroom, perhaps in a college residence hall. If I had been walking through the building, probably looking a lot like the fat girl in this picture, and stumbled upon this I would have been a bit jealous. I’d have thought “Look at them, so happy and pretty, having a good time being thin and desirable. If only I looked like that I’d be all happy and smiley too.” This was before I realized the different types of beauty and shugged off the idea that everyone had to conform to the commercialized standard.

Now though, I wouldn’t feel envious of anything but the “sisterhood” the girls are expressing. There really is no way of saying what they were thinking when they took this picture, but no matter the reasoning it shows that they are comfortable in their bodies and in themselves. I’d be (I am) envious of that. ANYONE could feel that though, perhaps even the girl standing off in the dark.

Though I am sure the picture means different things to different people (once you get past the creators attempt to make fun of the fat people), I am reading into it that the girls are falling victim to the “oh we have to be beautiful and thin to be sexy” trap. The girl standing with her hand over her mouth seems to be expressing that innocent “oh noes, you caughtz me in mah underwarez” seductive move you see in the media. While it is great that they feel sexy, confident, comfortable, desirable – all those nice and fuzzy feelings – I’d just hate to think it is because they are subscribing to the idea that they have what it takes and the girl in the dark doesn’t. Same goes for her – and I wish I could hug her and make sure she realizes her worth isn’t damaged by her physical appearance…or the jerks that feel she should be envious of other, thinner people.

Trips and Yoga

I finally got to take a vacation and do some exploring and I didn’t disappear or get hacked up by some crazy person! I’m a huge fan of camping – we used to go as a family when I was in grade school. There is this awesome park, Elijah Clark State Park that we used to go to every year for spring break. It was a long way from where I used to live and even farther now that I am on the opposite side of the state, but two years ago when I decided that I’d attempt to go camping by myself Elijah Clark was where I headed for.

We always camped in a camper. Now that I’m on my own I have a tent. A nice, big tent, but a tent that doesn’t have the luxury of a porta potty or air conditioning. The area of the park that I like the most is at the very end – where the new bathhouses haven’t been built yet. The old ones are TINY – which for a fat person spells trouble. You barely have room to move, turn around, towel off…all of the important things you need to be able to do. The newer bathhouses, however, are nice and spacious and very friendly to people of size, and handicapped people.

This year I decided to be different and checked out a few places in Alabama. I visited two parks, Cheaha Resort State Park and Monte Sano State Park, and decided to rent cabins at both as it was my first time camping by myself in the mountains of Alabama. Both cabins were built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the early 1900s – stone, stone fireplaces, awesome things like that. I was especially fond of the little sign in the Cheaha cabin that said to not worry in the case of bad weather as the cabins had been there since the early 1900s and they weren’t going anywhere. Anyway, the Cheaha cabins had been newly renovated and were EXTREMELY nice. The Monte Sano cabin was nice too, but I fell in love with the Cheaha cabin.

In BOTH cabins I encountered issues. Going in I didn’t really think of it – I never imagined my size would be an issue. But those CCC people must have all been extremely tiny because the bathrooms in both cabins were so small it was unbelievable. The Cheaha cabin had a full bath – toilet, sink, shower and tub. Add a person standing in the middle of all that and you have NO MORE ROOM. I even kinda had to sit crooked on the toilet [I'm sure you all wanted to know that ] because the toilet paper holder jutted out and got in the way. In the Monte Sano cabin? The bathroom held a small shower and a toilet. Its a good thing I’m not claustrophobic because if I turned in the shower I hit a wall (I am kinda germophobic though, so that was unsettling). Both bathroom experiences were uncomfortable and disheartening because it threw me down into the fat hatred mode. I was already kind of discouraged because I wasn’t in the shape to go hiking around the mountains as much as I wanted, so this just added to it. I want to say that even thinner people would have had a hard time in the bathrooms, but who knows? Maybe its just a state park conspiracy.

I compensated by taking up yoga using the Megan Garcia dvd. I really liked this DVD. I have no idea how the postures in it translate into mainstream yoga, but I thoroughly enjoyed doing it. I even looked forward to doing it everyday. I didn’t really have much trouble at all (aside from the fact that stone floors are INCREDIBLY hard) and at the end of the 20 minute workout I felt GREAT! I felt as flushed, stretched, and energized as I do after walking or lifting weights. Hopefully this means I was doing it right. It definitely made the trip more enjoyable and was a great way to start the day. The great end to the day was sitting out looking over the mountains and the twinkling lights of Huntsville drinking a cold one.

So what did I learn on vacation? Old grist mills and covered bridges are amazing (even if exploring them almost gets you killed by falling through the floor or having two rednecks circle around you staring you down 3 times as you were taking pictures), mountain roads are CREEPY, small bathrooms are bad, and yoga is good. All in all it was a good trip!

All Eyes On Me and My Fat

I am having one of THOSE days.

You know, the kind of day where NOTHING fits right, NOTHING goes right, you feel sluggish, ugly, worthless, pathetic…the kind of day where you tell yourself, “Gee, if I was ________ pounds lighter I wouldn’t have these issues.

Every year around this time, everyone in my line of work gets invited to a huge county-wide banquet. We all sit, talk, eat dinner, clap through the awards that are given out to everyone, laugh at the comedian, and overall just have a great time. Its time that you can spend with your friends from all surrounding departments without having to rush around. This banquet is something that I look forward to because it means that I get to spend time with my coworkers and my friends from other places without being interrupted by the phone and/or radio. Of course, no one can know this…they all have to think that it doesn’t matter to me.

This year there have been rumors that I am getting an award. I can’t let on that this means anything to me. No, I could never let on that I feel honored! Why is it so deeply ingrained that I have to say that I’m undeserving, unworthy, etc? Why is it, when I say that I am excited, I immediately feel badly? I say to myself all day long that I am the best there is, but I can’t say it to anyone else. I can’t even agree with my coworkers when they agree that I am the best – I still have to say that I’m not…because I’m fat.

Then of course, there is the actual acceptance of the award. My supervisor will be standing up in front of 200+ people and I will have to walk up and join him. Oh, and, cameras! What if someone tries to take my picture??? This is where the real panic begins. I mean, after all, I’m fat.

I’ve been in a constant battle with my brain for the past WEEK over this. What am I going to wear? Where am I going to sit? I have to make sure that there are “fat friendly” exit places so that I can move around without hitting people with my butt or gut. My brain has been telling me “You can’t go, you just shouldn’t go, you’ll have to get up and walk in front of these people…all eyes are going to be on you. You don’t want people to see you! You don’t even deserve this award, or the applause, because you are fat. No, you can’t wear that top, look at how your stomach bulges out! No, you can’t wear that, your arms are huge!!!”

Already I am fighting this, and will continue fighting this probably even AFTER the banquet is over. Instead of being happy that my hard work is finally being recognized I’m paranoid over what people that I already know are going to think. I already know them – they know I’m fat! But still, my brain is torturing me by making me think that I’ll shock them all with my fatness…

I found this really cute top at Fashion Bug that I have fallen in love with. It would be perfect to wear. But, instead of just being happy…no. Immediately the brain kicks in and says “What??? Color??? NO. You cannot wear color, it will draw attention to the fat! And…SHORT SLEEVES??? Are you kidding me? You MUST find a 3/4 length shrug to wear over that so that the color is toned down and the sleeves become longer!!!!”

It would just be nice to be able to tell my brain to shut up – what does it even matter what I look like? These are the same people that have seen me roll into work having just woken up…hair all a mess, spit stains on my chin (kidding), and pants all wrinkled – and they want to give me an award. I hear at least once a week how much the people that work with me are glad that they work with me. I hear the people that don’t work with me say how much they DO want to work with me. Yet, all of a sudden, I’m not worthy of all of this because I am fat. Its just stupid!

My weight has nothing to do with my performance. My weight has not had anything to do with my doing a great job at work. They didn’t decide to give me this award because I’m fat. Why then, if my fat had nothing to do with me getting the award, does my brain want me to believe that my fat should keep me from going to the banquet and receiving the award?

If I wasn’t fat would I really feel any more deserving? I doubt it. Would I really feel that more confident about walking up there if I was thinner? I doubt it.

Is anyone but me really going to be paying any attention to my fat? I DOUBT IT.

What Has My Weight Prevented Me From Doing?

A couple of weeks ago I attended some training for the job. There were several much cooler classes than the communications classes I was taking – including a couple that featured the use of a helicopter. I have always been fascinated with helicopters, and I have even had the desire to learn to pilot one. So, during my down time between classes I walked over to the field with my other coworkers that were there and we checked the grounded birds out. It was then we discovered that during their own down time the pilots were being gracious enough to offer helicopter rides. Nothing special of course, just a ride around the city. We jumped at the offer, and got “in line.”

The helicopter this particular department utilizes is a 4 person helicopter – so a pilot and up to 3 passengers. So what do I do? I start, automatically, thinking about the worst things that could happen. “What if I get up there and I’m too heavy and my ass crashes the thing?” “What if I’m too wide, and I fall out – to my death?” I did everything short of asking the pilot – I stood there, walked around eyeballing the seat space and searching for some magical sign/sticker that would tell me that even I could ride. Alas, I found nothing but more insecurity, forcing me to say that I’d hold off on riding as the next class was starting soon and I didn’t want to be late.

Afterward, after the disappointment and self-bashing had subsided, I started thinking about everything that I’ve held myself back from because of my weight…OR because I THOUGHT that my weight would be an issue. I have been trying to recall everything that I’ve been faced with such as opportunities missed, taken, or ignored, that I have declined myself because I was too fat. That’s my only criteria; I told myself I couldn’t do it because I was too fat. My list, and I’m sure this isn’t complete, includes the following:

Never having a real boyfriend. Some people have expressed interest in me and I’ve ignored them or dismissed them because I am too fat to have a boyfriend. On a similar note, I’ve been purposely avoiding situations in which I actually could meet people. “Oh, I can’t go out to that club because I’m too fat.” “Oh, I can’t make eye contact with that person or they will come over here and I’m too fat to carry on a conversation.” ETC. I go to work and I go home. Those are the two main places I go, just to avoid the public…because I am too fat.

Along with that – restricting myself from friendships. If I am somewhere where it would be possible to make friends of a strictly platonic fashion (such as an award banquet for work, a training class, meeting, etc) I still avoid even looking at new people, for fear that they might approach. If no one I know is around I stick to the outer perimeter. If I do notice someone I know I tag along with them.I’ve kept myself from being social because of my fat.

Helicopter rides.

Rappelling. Every year I go to conference in which rappelling is offered as an activity. Every year I have wanted to give it a try, and every year I’ve told myself no…you’re too fat. This might actually have some truth to it, but I didn’t even ask if there was a max weight.

ATV training, Boating, Swimming, Lake Going, etc…anything that would require some flexibility in moving or showing some skin. If its in the heat? Forget it – I don’t wear shorts or short sleeves. I also don’t walk as fast. I would love nothing more than to go camping, wake up in the morning with the sun, go put a blanket down by the river and just do some yoga, chill, relax…but I’m too fat.I’m sure this list isn’t complete, but seriously, how much of this is because I’m too fat? How much of it is because I’m not fit enough, or because I’m just afraid to buck the system and try something that “OMG fat people shouldn’t show their faces while doing!!!”

Its a blanket excuse though – I can’t go to the mall because I’m too fat, I can’t do yoga on the lake because I’m too fat, I can’t hop on an ATV because I’m too fat. I can’t live my life because I’m too fat.

THAT is ridiculous. What I actually am is too fat to just waste my life. Its April 29th, 2008 – by this time next year I want to have been able to accomplish everything on this list.

More on the Doctor – Skewed Perceptions

A part of the whole “self acceptance” journey I’ve started on has been trying to see myself (accurately) through not only my eyes, but through others’. I’ve been trying to see myself as a worker, a helper, a friend – not just the fat woman taking up space. What have I realized? I’ve realized (maybe I’ve actually always known this, but its just become apparent) that I’m so afraid of other people’s judgements that I make the judgements for them! Yay for projection! Not only do I judge others by judging myself for them (did ya follow that one?), I judge others, just as they do, as being a friend or enemy based upon some arbitrary factor.

Take this doctor visit I had. Now, I got screwed out of my first appointment at the last moment. They told me two days at first, but confirmed one of them. I was planning on calling closer to the appointment and confirming the date again, but then I got a voicemail reminding me of my appointment that had the correct date. Both dates the time was supposed to be at 10:45 AM. So, the morning of the appointment I set out and drive the 20 miles to get there, and I end up fighting through weird traffic trying to find the place. I find the correct road and I call the office to get some landmarks to look for close to the office…and they tell me that my appointment had already been given up as they have a 20 minute window and my appointment was at 10:15. Ummm…what? I have a voicemail from your office that clearly says 10:45. But ok, fine, whatever. THEN they tell me that the doctor I wanted to see was going to be out for the next week and the only other doctor I could see was her replacement. I didn’t really want to wait another week for fear that I’d lose my nerve altogether, so I took the next appointment.

So the next day I drive 40 more miles in total to see someone that I could not find on Google to save my life. I grab all of the new patient paperwork and head into the waiting room to fill it out. The first thing I noticed was that all of the chairs had arms. I hate chairs with arms…I fit, but with no extra room most of the time. Anyway, I sucked it up, filled out the paperwork, and waited for my appointment. About an hour later (grrrrrr…) a bubbly and plump nurse came out to get me. Up first? The scale. I haven’t been weighed since my last doctor’s visit some 6 years ago. I could take a guess at how much I weighed after reading about other people with similar shapes/heights, but I didn’t know for sure. I debated over whether or not I would step on the scale or if I would ask to skip it. I decided to go for it, to see what I actually do weigh. I actually talked to myself on the way up saying “OK MC, other people with your height and your sizes weigh around 330 – 350. Don’t be surprised if that’s what the number says. Its just a number.”

338. On a scale that goes up to 350. Surprisingly this isn’t bothering me. I can’t say that I’d ever admit this to anyone around me, not yet at least, but I’m admitting it online! What was great? No comment from the nurse. No smirk, no laugh, nothing – just a notation on the chart and it was followed with “Ok, now we’re going to get your height…”

We went into the exam room and she started asking questions about the medical histories of my families. I gave her what I could, cracked a couple of jokes to make myself more comfortable, had my vitals checked. My blood pressure was up. Oh joy…let’s see, I have a stressful job, I was nervous as hell about being at the doctor…no, no problems with it before. Still no anti-fat comments, she just made another note. She even asked why I drove 20+ miles to come to this office – to which I replied that I had read/heard that the doctor I had originally wanted to see was excellent, and that it was really important to me to see a female physician.

The wait for that female physician wasn’t too long/bad. While waiting I grabbed some brochures about diabetes off the wall since that was one of the possibilities I had been considering. Diabetes and PCOS (or, God forbid, both) would both explain a lot of my problems… The door opened and in walked this…stick…of a woman.

See? I judge based upon looks too! That was the first thing I thought when she walked in. “Oh great, look at her, she’s probably 5’9 and a size 2. She’ll never be understanding, she’ll just want me to lose weight and attribute everything to me being a fat ass.” Well, I am happy to report that I was wrong. She didn’t mention my weight at all at first, and when she did it wasn’t in the “YOU MUST LOSE TEH FATZ” way, it was in the “Ok, you’ve told me you normally eat once a day, maybe with a couple of snacks depending on your schedule. We need to work on that, especially if you do have diabetes/PCOS/whatever. You’ve also told me you don’t exercise much, if any, and you have a desk job. Let’s fix the problem you have now – because it’s causing you pain – and then we’ll see if we can get you eating better and exercising to combat the fatigue and some of the other issues you’ve mentioned.” kinda way.

So basically I learned my weight, showed a random person my fat AND the most embarassing parts of me that cause me endless emotional pain, and talked about getting healthy. Surprisingly I left NOT wanting to drink myself into a coma. I made it through unscathed, not afraid of going back, and with a prescription for an antibiotic to help with the skin issue. I also scheduled a fasting blood test, which will test thyroid levels, blood sugar, all the fun stuff. I went back for the blood test, but I haven’t heard the results yet.

I judged the doctor based on her appearance and was completely wrong. She actually treated my “issue” first, without just pressing weightloss as the answer. I walked out of the office with my head up instead of down. Who knows what this doctor could have been thinking – perhaps she’s anti-fat or neutral on the situation, or maybe she’s even size-positive. All I know is that I was wrong in judging her based on her slim figure – and that’s interesting to me. This size/self acceptance problem seems to be more deeply rooted than I first thought.

Oh, and the skin issue has improved TREMENDOUSLY! I know I can’t stay on the antibiotic forever, but maybe, just maybe this can all be fixed.