Weighing In
During fall and winter, I become a bear – I’m only interested in food and hibernation. I’m constantly hungry and tired. This is Seasonal Affective Disorder, so it also means my body is out of my control: I overeat without meaning to, well-intentioned walks becomes trudges (my legs feel like they weigh a ton), and it becomes hard to get up in the morning. I gain 15-20 pounds between October and February and cannot lose or prevent the weight no matter what I do. My body clings to that weight because it’s an insulator against the cold. It really is insulation, too: it’s an evenly distributed layer of fat covering my torso, hips, and thighs.
The weight falls off gradually through spring; the more the sun shines, the better I feel. I lose the ravenous appetite and begin to automatically exercise more, just because that’s what my body wants to do. This is genetic. I inherited it from my mother, and she inherited from her father (he is actually called ‘Bear’).
I wear the same clothes throughout the weight shifts because my actual size doesn’t change. I tend to wear loose clothing, because I don’t like to feel restricted, but in winter my pants (specifically) go from comfortable to barely tolerable. I “fill in” my clothes and start to overflow right around the time spring shows up. Realistically, winter sweaters and layers give me some leeway, but it still feels uncomfortable to me. I doubt I look much different to anyone but myself.
Unfortunately, this is not how my mind sees it. In my mind, “I’m a big fat lop”. Even though I know that this is an adaptive mechanism my body believes is necessary for me to survive winter, I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m out of control or overly lazy or eating an awful diet or something. I feel like it’s my fault. I feel like I could or should have prevented it. I feel like other people probably think I’m a weak-willed slob, but nobody says anything because it’s impolite.
Hello, friend, I have a distorted body image.
It’s strange, to be aware of both sets of thoughts:
1) awareness of this natural cyclical state, that my body is fine and healthy
vs.
2) societal thoughts of “being a fatty”.
I really despise terms like “fatso”, “fat-ass”, “lardo”, etc. I would never call anyone else something like that, but I call myself these things all the time. I’m sick of hearing these things from myself.
These feelings are exacerbated by the presence of shallow people, thoughts of insecurity, feelings of worthlessness, and many memories (from ages 6-18) of being called chunky/heavy/fat & told I needed to lose weight by my “father”.
I’m genetically and environmentally predisposed to be overweight, if not obese.
An easy 3/4 of my relatives on either side are or were at some point morbidly obese. A lot of it is due to lifestyle choice, but some of it is genetic. I’ve got a double dose of obesity predisposition, but I choose to limit the behaviors I know will lead me directly to true obesity. These conscious choices automatically restrict my weight fluctuations to +/- 20 lbs.
The “overweight” part is that my default weight has and always will be 10-15 lbs “overweight” for my height, according to the BMI. I generally weigh 20 lbs more than people who wear the same clothing size. I don’t make any excuses, because there are none to make. I eat relatively healthy (hey, I like dessert), exercise daily, and I am rarely ill.
In truth, my body just naturally carries a significant amount of extra water and muscle around. It’s not unusual for me to gain or lose 10 lbs in one day due to bloating or water retention. I also have a lot more muscle than most people my size, which is why I have more raw power than I “should”. (See: large number of men I’ve beat at arm wrestling.) I tend to stay fit, no matter what time of year, because that’s just my nature. I need to be able to run up hills, fling heavy rocks, and lift dead trees. This is just what I do. As such, I don’t pay much attention to the number on the scale.
I do, however, pay attention to how I feel. The heavier I get, the less confident I feel. That’s saying a lot, considering I don’t have much confidence to begin with. I start to feel lumpy, dumpy, and hopeless. For some reason, I always forget that the weight will go away on its own. I start to fixate on some idea that, “I’ll never be able to lose this fat. I’m just going to be like this forever.” Which makes no sense, because I already know I can and will get rid of it without doing anything special. The worst part, though, is that it spirals down into other kinds of negativity. I end up undermining all of the hard work I do to make myself see things in a better way. I don’t like this at all, which is why I’m trying to change it.
I recognize that I will always be fighting with myself. The body image problems started too young. I doubt I will ever be able to look at myself without automatic criticism or comparison to others.
I also recognize, though, that I have the power to change how I think during these times. Instead of allowing myself to become resigned in self-hate, I can step back and remind myself to be gentle. I can look at myself and say, “Hey, this is where I’m at, and it’s okay. Today is a new day, I can make good choices, and I can feel good about today. Maybe I don’t like how I feel right now, BUT spring is coming! It’s time to get outside.” I can look at myself and say, “Look, you, this is your only chance to live. Get out of your head and live, dammit!”
So, that’s what I’ll do.