On "Promoting" Obesity

Isn't there some inherent sexism in focusing on the weight of a woman who is making a living because of her singing and songwriting skills? Does every Jack Black interview have to include "relevant" information about his weight? Seth Rogen became a star without a svelte physique. No one cared if we posted about those guys without mentioning their weight, but women must be small and tiny and delicate and therefore feminine, right? And let's not pretend this is a health issue: We see images of stars smoking and drinking and frighteningly thin, and never get emails about how we're "promoting" those unhealthy lifestyles.

Pump Weight

I go in to see my endo on Tuesday.

It also so happens that the last couple of days, I've noticed that the dreaded pump weight seems to have caught up with me. I'd actually thought I'd avoided this, as it appears to me that I'm using *less* insulin than I did before I switched to the pump. Maybe I really am eating more than I was, pre-pump?

I don't think so, tho.

I do honestly think a matter of better control - and eating too many of the work lunches instead of the lunches I bring from home. I haven't had my latest A1c yet, but my last one was 6.5. Not too shabby. A 6.5 a1c corresponds to an average blood sugar reading of 138. My current average is 122, which would be an a1c of 6.0. Still not as good as my 5.9 (which I got while being, what 5-10 lbs lighter?).

As usual, my concern with the weight gain has more to do with the fact that I can't afford new clothes than it does with the "OMG I'm Fat!" rant.

I've also finally gotten comfortable enough adjusting basal rates that workouts more than twice a week are starting to look less annoying. I'm hoping it's just a matter of getting back into my regular eating and workout schedule.

For the record, though, I did finally stop buying peanut butter. Those flourless peanut butter cookies, paired with all that WoW playing, is when I first started noticing that my jeans weren't fitting as well. I needed to ditch those bad habits and pick up some better ones.

Eternal vigilance sure does get annoying, but when I stop paying attention, I go to seed really quickly.

It's a bitch.

It Only Took Me 27 Years to Get There... But I Sure Do Feel Better

The Minnesota research suggests that girls who felt good about themselves were more likely to be physically active and pay more attention to what they ate. They didn't lose much weight, but they made healthy lifestyle changes that at least prevented them from gaining more weight. Meanwhile, the researchers found that the girls who were the most dissatisfied with their size tended to become more sedentary over time and paid less attention to maintaining a healthy diet. Those who were unhappy with their bodies were, in fact, more likely to gain more weight.

Really, we've gotta stop with the "fat is an indicator of health, happiness, and quality of life" thing.

Like so many of the bullshit "truths" of life, this one really heads people down the wrong road.

Rhino

Somebody should tell that Rhino she's fine just the way she is. Also, I love me some pretty unicorns, but at the end of the day, the rhino's gonna win in a rumble.

Remember: Life Starts Now

Joy's newest Fat Rant.

Fuller Hips = Fuller Life!

Please Do Edify Me…

As to why it is that 80% of the time you read one of those “Americans are all so FAT!” articles that the only gender whose FATNESS is measured from one decade to the next is… women? You can't tell me that it's about "AMERICANS" who are getting fatter and nobody did any comparisons on male weight (I have fat rants in droves, but this particularly sexist thing about all the fat talk drives me even battier than all the gross assumptions about fat people).

But then, men are SUPPOSED to be bigger. The truly grotesque are the women, who are all supposed to be taking up less space. And it's the women who should feel really bad about it, because they'll pay more money to get rid of it, and fail. Because women gain weight even more easily than their male American counterparts.

Holier than thou.

The Body of a Mother

Most of these aren't safe for work.

My First Dream in French

Or, rather, my first dream where I found myself in a French-Arab country and tried desperately to communicate in broken French.

I was with someone else, collecting all sorts of wizardly potions for some kind of ritual at this big old house and we were in the souk and found this little sort of herb shop and we needed... gawd, what was it? Nassau, nassa, something, I don't know, but they didn't have it in straight herb form so we had to order it as part of this chickpea stew.

In the dream, I forgot how to say, "I need" (j'ai besoin de) and had to use "I would like" (je voudrais), but I was terribly dissatisfied with this expression because I really did desperately need this herb for this wizardly rite, and these two guys in the back, who spoke Arabic, English, and French, quietly made fun of our paltry attempts to communicate in French.

"French isn't so hard," they said to one another, "Faim, quelque faim, it is nothing. So easy."

It wasn't until I work up that I realized the easy words they'd used to illustrate how "easy" French was were "hunger" and "some hunger."

Even in my dreams, I'm buying food and thinking about hunger. Even in foreign languages.

This doesn't surprise me, as I learned at PP that I've gained another six pounds since January. I've also started eating blueberries for breakfast instead of eggs and bacon, to cut calories, and have started drinking black coffee all morning to cut hunger. From about 9am to 7pm, except for a short hour or hour and a half after lunch, I'm hungry all day. All. Fucking. Day. And yes, I do put snacks in there: one at 10am and one at 3pm - string cheese and some carrots - just to try and cut some of that horrible hunger.

I'm hungry all the time, and seeing negative results for all that. It's enough to drive me batty. I can't fucking wait to set up this appointment with the new endocrinologist. There's some easier solution to this crap, I know.

I don't even care what language it's in.

And I Go Swimming.... In a Swimsuit!

Fat Rant.

(and, just for shits and giggles, she has a funny little nerd-girl timetraveling video, too)

It's a Start, Anyway

I Wonder How She Did It!

Solid flesh!

In just one week!

Cravings

I had a wicked craving for a quesadilla or pancakes at 10pm tonight. Man, that sounded uber-tasty.

But you know, I'm working on staying in my clothes cause you know, clothes are expensive, and sweet fuck I just had to buy two pairs of size 18 - 18!!! - trousers for job interviews.

So I brushed my teeth and went to my room to shadow box with free weights and I realized that though the craving was certainly surprising, it was nothing at all like the carb cravings I used to get before I got sick.

I've always been a ridiculous carb addict, which I found out later was also sort of something that went hand-in-hand in diabetic families. Craving carbs is the reason diabetes still survives, I think. I think the two genes are linked; I mean, back in the day, living until 26, I would have popped out a handful of kids by then and spread those carb-loving diabetic genes all over the fucking place. Having an intense desire to scarf high-calorie food at all costs and being able to retain that weight would have put me at a distinct advantage.

My cravings used to be so bad that I would literally shake - shake, like a drug addict or alcoholic - during particularly bad cravings. This was one reason why the Atkins diet worked so well for me back when I was 18/19. After two weeks of withdrawl, I was finally able to live without those intense cravings. They didn't go away, mind you, but I no longer thought I was going to die if I didn't eat something loaded with sugar.

Food and weight are touchy subjects. We have very clear ideas about what sorts of people overeat, about what "fat people" are like, and I know that to some extent, having these incredibly out-of-control cravings (and, particularly in South Africa, some really awful bingeing sessions) has left me with a huge feeling of personal shame. Here I am, this out-of-control fat person.

But what's been worse is to no longer eat the way I did during the most stressful times in my life - the last couple years of high school and my time in Durban - and to still be gaining weight and struggling to get back into shape. I've said before that I'm pretty happy at 200 lbs. I have no desire to attempt a cool 155 lbs, which I don't think I've ever seen in my life, except maybe a brief period in fourth grade. No, I like being big and strong and tall. But once you get up past a certain size, it gets harder to find clothes, and not being able to maintain a steady weight - no matter what number it is - is fucking maddening. It takes all your self control to not beat yourself up about it.

And it's funny, you know, because I did work so hard to come to terms with this body, with what it can do. I like being powerful. I liked not having to think about my weight constantly. It's one of those big societal traps we get into; thinking about weight is a huge mental timesuck. It takes away time from writing, learning French, even getting a job. It sucks a lot of brilliant mind power into struggling with something that is, at the end of the day, rather trivial.

Yet, even knowing this, I'll catch myself shopping for clothes and I'll want to burst into tears. I'll think, "Oh God, I want to kill myself," and it's the intensity of that thought, the sudden brutality of it, that will stop me short.

Dear fucking christ, how important is another inch of flesh? How important is it for there to be less of me in the world? So important that I wish I wasn't here? There's this sick guilt you get when you *don't* feel guilty. What if you're too confident and outgoing and pretend nothing's wrong and then people come up to you and go, "So you know you're fat, right?" What do you say to that?

"I sure as hell am, and I love not being able to find clothes."

Or you laugh nervously and say you're working on it.

Honestly, I don't want to work on it. I want my weight to stay steady. I just want it to stop. I'll take a steady weight. I want my body confidence back. I don't have to be a size 2. I just have to be a size that stops moving.

Pretty please.

I need this angst for more productive things.

I Felt Terrible....

... when I was sick. But I could wear such cute clothes!

Indeed, I am well aware of the fucked-uppedness of that.

"What kept me sane throughout the diet, and stopped me from tipping over the edge and wanting to keep the new skinny self I'd worked so hard to achieve, was the realisation that my life was no better, or more successful, or colourful, when I was thin than before."