#100 - Blaming something else for my weight gain

This is going to be a difficult post to read. It's a difficult post to write. But it's something that needs to be said. We all got fat for a reason. It didn't just happen. Sure, there is a small percentage of people that gain weight due to medical reasons, but I'm betting you and I are not one of them. We gained weight mostly due to emotions. Food is a great coping tool for life. It makes you happy when you are sad (gotta love the calming effects of the carbohydrate). It gives you company when you are bored or lonely. It lifts you up on a down day. Food is always there for you. Food is awesome that way. But there is the flip side. Food will let you down in the end. It's not the miracle cure to all of life's problems. Food will trap you. Once you start to overeat, you need more and more food to satisfy you. And like a junkie, you keep going back for your fix. Food can be a drug, plain and simple. You need to be careful how you use it. Food is meant to nourish our bodies and keep us alive. But we've turned food into this tool to help us get through the bad times.

I suspect if you are like me, it took some pretty bad times to get you where you are today. Why did you turn to food? I truly don't think we can lose this weight until we face up to why we got fat in the first place. It's so easy to blame something else for our weight. "It's genetic." "I have big bones." "I don't like to waste food." "I quit smoking and gained weight." "I have a medical condition that makes me gain weight." "I don't have time to watch my weight." "I don't like to exercise." Sorry, but I think all of those excuses are crap. It was a choice. You chose to become fat. Sure, you didn't wake up one day and say, "I think I wanna be fat now!" Of course not, but you chose to overuse food for whatever reason got you started. You say it's genetics? Ok so you were dealt a bad genetic hand. That only means you need to watch your weight more closely. Some people can eat whatever they want and not gain a pound. You are not one of those people. You know it. So choose. Fall back on your excuse, or work at it. You say it's medical? Then get to a doctor and solve the problem. So many people fall on this excuse, but it is VERY rare to have a medical condition that makes you morbidly obese. Sure there are lots of medications and conditions that can predispose you to gain a bit of weight (a bit, like maybe 20 pounds), but true medical conditions causing you to gain 100+ pounds are very rare. Again, you choose. Excuse? Life?

I hate to be so brutal, but it's the brutal facts. We make choices. And we've apparently made some bad choices. But it's not the end of the world, it's not game over, we can fix the problem. We can choose to use food in a more normal way. Remember, food is there to keep us alive and nourish us. It's not an emotional coping tool. This brings me back to the real reason most of us got fat. Emotions. We hate to admit it, but food was there when we were down, and it temporary lifted us up out of whatever crap we were going through. So why did I get fat? This is the hard part to write. To actually put down on paper and share with the world why I got fat. When I was a little girl I was sexually abused by a relative. It went unnoticed for seven years. I hid what was happening to me out of fear and shame. I was a little girl. I was brainwashed into thinking I would destroy the family if I said anything. And I believed that. I thought it all must have been my fault. Initially I didn't use food to deal. Though I was taught food was a reward for my silence. I got an ice cream cone after every time. Sad huh? But my way to cope overall was by becoming the perfect child. Perfect student. Perfect friend. Perfect clothes. Perfect life. Perfect everything. It's pretty hard to be perfect all the time. Finally when I was fourteen years old, I snapped. I basically had a nervous breakdown. I couldn't stop screaming and crying. Of course my parents freaked out trying to figure out what had happened to their perfect child. Ironically, my father was a psychologist, and it wasn't long before my parents figured it out. I couldn't utter the words, but they knew. They knew there was only one thing that would make a girl fall apart so bad. We went to the police. We did everything you do in this situation. I started therapy. But after all of this, I was numb. My whole life seemed false. I wasn't that perfect child. I was just me. Was just me good enough? I didn't think so anymore. All the threats that had been whispered to me came true. My family was destroyed, everything fell apart. My immediate family broke off from the extended family, and became isolated. He was right, I wrecked everything. Of course that was what I was thinking then, I don't think that now. It was all his fault. No question. But I took on all the blame. That is a lot for a fourteen year old to deal with. And so it began. I made the choice. Ironically, I used food just like he had taught me. Feel bad... eat an ice cream cone, and so on and so on. I gained all that weight to protect me from the world. If you are fat, you are less desirable. Who wants a fat girl? I was safe.

Does this story sound familiar? I wouldn't be surprised if it does. It's estimated that 25% of obese people have been sexually abused. Only 6% of the thin population have had the same experience. It's even been shown that people with a history of sexual abuse have a harder time losing and maintaining weight loss. Any small failure or set back seems like the end of the world and we quit. Food is so much easier.The choice seems so easy when you feel so bad. But where does it get you in the end? Food lies. It's a quick fix. In the end, you are more fat, more miserable, and have less self-esteem than when you started. It's a bad choice. I can sit back and blame my life's events for my weight. I can eat all my problems away. Trust me, I've done that! But I won't do it anymore. I went through therapy, I dealt with everything that happened, I came to terms with my life, and I'm moving on and choosing to live. Unfortunately my body hasn't quite caught up with my brain, but I'm working on it. For me, the fat is kind of like the scar left behind after everything. I'm still healing, and slowly the scar is starting to fade. Maybe someday, you wont even notice the scar anymore. Everyday I make a choice now. Fall back on bad habits or move forward. I choose. What do you choose?