A hefty piece of meat.....

February 1, 2017

 

I wasn’t always a hefty piece of meat...

 

I think I started gaining weight at the age of  10.  Like many people, there seems to be a sort of an emotional trigger that turns on the bottomless beast.  At the age of 8 years old, my parents were divorced, for my parents had an extremely tumultuous marriage. My father was away a lot while in the military which left my mother to care for me, as a single parent. When my father returned from his duties there was a lot of  physical and mental abuse towards my mother.  More often than not there would be the screams and cries from my mother as her frail body was slammed into walls and down staircases.  I can remember my mother starving herself, vomiting, and abusing laxatives . All because my father said she was fat and ugly, never mind the fact that she was frail and malnourished..  There was a lot of disrespect and infidelity in my parents relationship.  It was a toxic love or infatuation, that would have killed one of them if they remained together.

 

My mother came for a long line of people who were hung up on weight and looks.  My mother was always criticized by her father and mother about her weight.  She told me stories about having to be weighed every morning by her father and made to exercise as a young girl.  She told me stories of the bond she had with her father and how they shared a love for tennis together. My mothers  unhealthy mindset when it came to health was doomed from the start, and it only worsened due the abuse from my father.

 

After my parents divorced there was a period of time where my mother was dating a man who was also in the military.  Later on, she married him, making him my stepfather.  In the beginning, like most things, there seemed to be a care or concern for me, being his stepchild.  My stepfather would often be left to care for me when my mother was out of town on business.

 

Soon the fake care and concern faded away.

 

I remember having to be a latch key kid coming home from school to let myself in after school.  I understand this situation is not uncommon these days, with the rise of single parenting and dual working households.  I remember going home and making a entire pot of macaroni noodles with butter, salt, and pepper, then sitting in front of the TV  gorging myself.  I would eat until I was sick, After packing my stomach full of these buttery noodles, I would feel bad and disgusting. I was too chicken to make myself vomit so I would go in the medicine cabinet and try to gag myself with a toothbrush which turned out to be a fail.  Next, I would find my mother’s spoon.  My mother was a professional at purging, she even had a table spoon bent in a way that when you stick it down your throat, you would wretch.  I was still too chicken shit to do this.  Because, I was a pretty savvy kid, I figured out that in our medicine cabinet we had a little brown bottle of stuff called  ipecac. This stuff  was perfect for a punk bulimic like myself .  This stuff was amazing, I would take some and in a few minutes later I was hugging the bowl.

 

So it seems  I learned pretty early how to binge and purge.  When I would go visit my father he would make rude insensitive comments about my weight. He’d always talk negative about my mother and stepfather, calling him a white fat piece of shit, and my mother a slut and white trash .

My mother would become so angry and disgusted with me that she was verbally abusive and would make me run the track and stairs until I became nauseous and  damn near die. She would never take the time to help me get better or figure out what might be going on.  She was too busy being angry that she was sacked with me  and creating a  life with her new husband.  Typical, out with the old in with the new.

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My mothers family has always been very judgemental,  They are all petite mixed italian, people who were stuck on body images, hair, and skin tones.  So it didn’t help that I was fat  and dark with a different grade of hair.  My father was a black man whom they hated with reason. He was abusive and a deadbeat.  You can’t get any better then that. By default I became the  fat black sheep of the family.

When my mother remarried she must of felt like she hit the jackpot!!!  Her husband was a very large white country man from Michigan.  He  came from a family of very overweight  large people. Funny that even though they were all easily  200+  They were never rude or insensitive when it came to weight they seemed quite content with their body.

 

When  my baby sisters came along I was a forgotten person left to figure it out on my own unless they were in the mood to hand out ass beatings.  My step-father was always available and willing to beat me with his size 52 leather belt. I was left alone most of the time, they would pack their two girls up and head out the door with not a hesitation or a glance back towards me.  My mother and my stepfather would go off with their new family and would be left behind to eat my life away.  I would get in trouble but it was so worth the consequences.  

 

My weight began to balloon when  I was  about the age of 16,  I was over 200 pounds.  At  this point my mother was so embarrassed about how I looked that it was a daily discussion or bash session.  I can remember one really sad situation when it was time for my 9th grade school shopping trip.  I remember her being so angry and disgusted because I couldn’t fit anything.  She brought me to Caldors, an old retail chain store, something like Kohl's and made me shop in the old ladies part.  I can remember her picking out the ugliest clothes ever,  I was so upset and hurt.  Not only was I huge but my mom hated me and I was an embarrassment.

 

This only made things worse.  I was a outcast in my family.  I can only imagine that this treatment was a major contributor to why  i began to self medicate with food.  I found ways to abuse laxatives, starve myself, binge eat, you name it I did that.

 

I want to say I was in 12th grade when I lost a huge amount of weight.  I was so stressed out with my family and college.  My mother told me no college for me, and if that’s what I wanted to do I had to do it all on my own with no help or money from her.  Her plan was for me to  go to the military.  I didn't want to go to the army.  She forced me to go to the recruiters office, but the lucky thing for me is that I was too fat to join!!  

 

That was  laughable to me.  

 

After I graduated a series of bad events happened while at home.  I was working full time and taking care of my siblings. One day my stepfather started his crap with me and I packed my bag and left never to return.  I was done with the mistreatment and disrespect of my parents.

 

I began my adult hood thin unhealthy surviving on dollar rice from the chinese store because that's all I could afford being a runaway and working for 5 dollars an hour paying for a room in a crack house.  I looked forward to that daily rice.

 

I became pregnant at the age of 19, and delivered at the age of  20  years old on the bathroom floor of the crack house. I was still in a unhealthy mental and physical state.  Luckily my daughter was healthy considering I had no prenatal care..  I can remember passing out at the bus stop downtown new haven from lack of nutrition and hydration.  When my daughter turned 6 months I left that scary crack house and moved myself to a equally scary 3rd floor apt in the middle of the hood.  From the burbs to the hood.

 

When I married and became pregnant again my weight was ballooning.  I gained a easy 60 pounds with the depo shot.  As soon as I came off the shot because I was huge and psychotic. I became pregnant with twins so I was huge.  A high risk pregnancy had me on bedrest for 6 months, and soon enough I delivered my twins preterm and lost one of the babies 2 weeks after she was born.  I was a zombie numb with pain.

 

As life continued I was blessed with a baby boy and while pregnant with him began nursing school.

I graduated nursing school and began working as a registered nurse, my dream job..  I can remember being so large that I would be sweating bullets trying to take care of my patients.  I was so large that I would alway knock over something with my big ole ass.  It was horrible!!  How am I a healthcare professional trying to educate my patients on health and fitness when I’m over here huffing and puffing.

 

Such a hypocrite.

 

I decided to get my life and began the atkins diet.  I lost a large amount of weight and I continued to try all types of fad diets almost killing myself with Xenadrine, Weight Watchers, South beach, Water Diet juicing , you name it I had it.

 

The demise of my marriage finally pushed the  envelope with my weight.  While going through my divorce I became addicted to the gym and diet.  It was like a drug to me.  The more I put in the gym the more my body changed.  I was a psycho  and I thought I looked damn good.  Again unhealthy and crazy food habits.

 

Fast forward….. Now I am in  a healthier state than where I once was.  I’m in a happier place in my life and am more realistic with who I am where I have came from.  I continue to be a work in progress  fighting  unhealthy eating habits and body image issues.

 

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