Has it been sense February that I updated my blog? An entire month gone without recording anything? Yes, it's true. I should tell you the story about the drunk birds and the screaming computer nerd. I should tell you about seeing and ex-boyfriend and how disappointed he was in seeing me. I should tell you how I had to go to Fort Worth and hang out with white people in boots. But, I'm not going to yet. I will instead tell the story of the Fat Camp.
I've gotten fat. Not huge fat. Yet. But, I'm on my way. I'm busy, I'm a snacker. I take drugs for my disease. I am prone to pie. I drink to much coffee. Frankly, I don't like water, so I don't drink enough of it.
I was feeling more shitty and exhausted than usual. I went to the doctor. I complained about my teetering weight gain. The unstoppable weight gain. We took blood samples. I am low on B-vitamins. So, it not only my crappy eating habits, but also, my drugs that I take for my MS. As it turns out, the damn things mess with your system in so many other ways than controlling a disease. So, I could be eating just fine, and I could be exercising my heart out, and still be fat. Some people go the other way and get really super duper skinny. I, what a shocker, didn't get that set of problems.
The idea of learning nutrition makes me tired just thinking about it. Portion sizing makes me tired. I don't want to have to learn about food. It's such a secondary thing to me. I don't think about breathing. I just do it. BUT, I'm fat. And maybe I miss the badass clothes more than the learning makes me tired. So, I checked around for my options.
I am going to the hospital's Fat Camp. Yes, I will have medical support, but also, delicious meals, and super training in the form of actual classes that I must attend in order to not be kicked out of the "program". You can get kicked out of Fat Camp. Which is amazing to me. Fat people have a hard time committing to stuff....you'd think at the prices, the huge amount of money that I'm fixing to spend, that they would cut me some slack. But, nope, you have to be totally serious about it. Ok, ok, I'll try to be serious, but it's going to be really hard.
Can I just say that I totally hate this? Can I? Well, I am.
I talked about the program to a person that I work with. Our project manager butted into the conversation to give me his fifty cents about my weight. He said that he was German, and his family drilled it into his head about portion size and nutrition. And if my family had done the same, I wouldn't be having this problem. I explained to him, that partly that may be true, but also, I have health issues and medicine issues that contributed to the massive weight gain that I was experiencing. He said that just wasn't true. He stood there looking at me as though I was just another stupid, lazy, fat person. He also noted that I should stop eating fast food, that was a big part of my problem. (I should note here that I don't eat fast food. ) I've gone to McDonalds, maybe once, in the past two years. I didn't bother fixing him. I knew Jesus had already given secret information on my eating habits...so, how can I compete with the Rez?
In all honesty, part of what he said rang true with my own lacking of self confidence in the matter. Now the other more rational part of myself, told me to be careful in listening to a Kevin Bacon hair, checkered shirt donning, German, Super Christian, Right Wing, Idiot. Be very careful. And perhaps I should take into consideration the cold hard medical science that was my own blood tests, and the doctor who had multiple degrees over his stupid ass.
Maybe. The battle between the June Does was to start.
I've had work dreams, health dreams, fat dreams....oh, the dreams....the dreams of dancing pants. My, oh my, this is a big deal.
Aside from my own want to have more energy, and the nice pants that I want to wear, there is the battle of wills. The battle that I will and can control my body. The other stuff is really secondary. I need to kick my body's ass. I need to be the winner. The need is deep rooted, for what ever the reason is. My body just can't get away with this. My mind is stronger than my body. So, if it's Fat Camp that does it, than it's Fat Camp. See how my body likes this! All the pre-planned meals and delicious shakes and snack bars....take that!
So, ok, I signed up for the Fat Camp. I had to go to orientation class. I went.
Upon arrival, I had to sign in. I had to grab the packets of information. One reason for going to Fat Camp is not to have all this information. They will be telling me what to do. So, I picked up the packets, knowing that I wouldn't read them. This is going to be hard for me.
I've gotten fat. Not huge fat. Yet. But, I'm on my way. I'm busy, I'm a snacker. I take drugs for my disease. I am prone to pie. I drink to much coffee. Frankly, I don't like water, so I don't drink enough of it.
I was feeling more shitty and exhausted than usual. I went to the doctor. I complained about my teetering weight gain. The unstoppable weight gain. We took blood samples. I am low on B-vitamins. So, it not only my crappy eating habits, but also, my drugs that I take for my MS. As it turns out, the damn things mess with your system in so many other ways than controlling a disease. So, I could be eating just fine, and I could be exercising my heart out, and still be fat. Some people go the other way and get really super duper skinny. I, what a shocker, didn't get that set of problems.
The idea of learning nutrition makes me tired just thinking about it. Portion sizing makes me tired. I don't want to have to learn about food. It's such a secondary thing to me. I don't think about breathing. I just do it. BUT, I'm fat. And maybe I miss the badass clothes more than the learning makes me tired. So, I checked around for my options.
I am going to the hospital's Fat Camp. Yes, I will have medical support, but also, delicious meals, and super training in the form of actual classes that I must attend in order to not be kicked out of the "program". You can get kicked out of Fat Camp. Which is amazing to me. Fat people have a hard time committing to stuff....you'd think at the prices, the huge amount of money that I'm fixing to spend, that they would cut me some slack. But, nope, you have to be totally serious about it. Ok, ok, I'll try to be serious, but it's going to be really hard.
Can I just say that I totally hate this? Can I? Well, I am.
I talked about the program to a person that I work with. Our project manager butted into the conversation to give me his fifty cents about my weight. He said that he was German, and his family drilled it into his head about portion size and nutrition. And if my family had done the same, I wouldn't be having this problem. I explained to him, that partly that may be true, but also, I have health issues and medicine issues that contributed to the massive weight gain that I was experiencing. He said that just wasn't true. He stood there looking at me as though I was just another stupid, lazy, fat person. He also noted that I should stop eating fast food, that was a big part of my problem. (I should note here that I don't eat fast food. ) I've gone to McDonalds, maybe once, in the past two years. I didn't bother fixing him. I knew Jesus had already given secret information on my eating habits...so, how can I compete with the Rez?
In all honesty, part of what he said rang true with my own lacking of self confidence in the matter. Now the other more rational part of myself, told me to be careful in listening to a Kevin Bacon hair, checkered shirt donning, German, Super Christian, Right Wing, Idiot. Be very careful. And perhaps I should take into consideration the cold hard medical science that was my own blood tests, and the doctor who had multiple degrees over his stupid ass.
Maybe. The battle between the June Does was to start.
I've had work dreams, health dreams, fat dreams....oh, the dreams....the dreams of dancing pants. My, oh my, this is a big deal.
Aside from my own want to have more energy, and the nice pants that I want to wear, there is the battle of wills. The battle that I will and can control my body. The other stuff is really secondary. I need to kick my body's ass. I need to be the winner. The need is deep rooted, for what ever the reason is. My body just can't get away with this. My mind is stronger than my body. So, if it's Fat Camp that does it, than it's Fat Camp. See how my body likes this! All the pre-planned meals and delicious shakes and snack bars....take that!
So, ok, I signed up for the Fat Camp. I had to go to orientation class. I went.
Upon arrival, I had to sign in. I had to grab the packets of information. One reason for going to Fat Camp is not to have all this information. They will be telling me what to do. So, I picked up the packets, knowing that I wouldn't read them. This is going to be hard for me.
I looked up to find my seat.
I was in an entire room of Fat People. It really struck me. All colors, all ages, a new mother, old people, a couple, a few handi-caps....the class really ran the scale. We were all fat. And we were all fat for different reasons. Some people admitted they were fast food junkies. I don't really eat fast food, but I am a snacker. I hate to cook. I really hate it. I don't want to be creative in the kitchen. I do not want to design the foods. I want to eat and go. I have other stuff to do.
I'm sure somewhere that makes me less of a woman.
The orientation power point didn't really speak to me. I knew that it was a part of their regulations. They had to tell us all about being fat, the food and the program...on and on and on. Oh and the part about exercise. Hell, we all fucking know that part. Who doesn't know that part. Jesus, that part was stupid. I know that I should exercise more, but go ahead, find that time for me, go ahead. I have never like that stuff. And maybe if I wasn't so fat and tired I would consider it more. So, let's save that part for later. I knew the other massively fat people in the room we're thinking the same thing. Right now, right this minute, I am lugging around two of my son's weight all the time. Yeah, I'm going to think about exercise.
I was in an entire room of Fat People. It really struck me. All colors, all ages, a new mother, old people, a couple, a few handi-caps....the class really ran the scale. We were all fat. And we were all fat for different reasons. Some people admitted they were fast food junkies. I don't really eat fast food, but I am a snacker. I hate to cook. I really hate it. I don't want to be creative in the kitchen. I do not want to design the foods. I want to eat and go. I have other stuff to do.
I'm sure somewhere that makes me less of a woman.
The orientation power point didn't really speak to me. I knew that it was a part of their regulations. They had to tell us all about being fat, the food and the program...on and on and on. Oh and the part about exercise. Hell, we all fucking know that part. Who doesn't know that part. Jesus, that part was stupid. I know that I should exercise more, but go ahead, find that time for me, go ahead. I have never like that stuff. And maybe if I wasn't so fat and tired I would consider it more. So, let's save that part for later. I knew the other massively fat people in the room we're thinking the same thing. Right now, right this minute, I am lugging around two of my son's weight all the time. Yeah, I'm going to think about exercise.
The presentation, it was a necessary evil. It did seem to help some people. It also seemed to dissuade others. Too much work, all the monitoring and classes, etc. And the skinny lady giving the presentation was so happy and excited to see us all. That was too weird.
I don't want all the fanfare from someone who doesn't know me. I don't want to be excited that I'm making this big, fantastic change in my life. I'm still annoyed that I have to make the fucking change in the first place. So, let's just have a go. Let's get it started, give me the snack bars and the record keeping book, and let's just go.
Yes, I will note that I'm not to be fat...however, I'm not sure that I'm going to be part of the skinny excited cult. I'm not suddenly going to Jazzercise my way into the office, or done a red dress and show off my sexy legs. I'm not going to suddenly dance and do cartwheels. Are you fucking kidding me?
I don't want all the fanfare from someone who doesn't know me. I don't want to be excited that I'm making this big, fantastic change in my life. I'm still annoyed that I have to make the fucking change in the first place. So, let's just have a go. Let's get it started, give me the snack bars and the record keeping book, and let's just go.
Yes, I will note that I'm not to be fat...however, I'm not sure that I'm going to be part of the skinny excited cult. I'm not suddenly going to Jazzercise my way into the office, or done a red dress and show off my sexy legs. I'm not going to suddenly dance and do cartwheels. Are you fucking kidding me?
I already know how much I'm going to hate all the comments about how good I look, and how did I do it, and all of that shit. I know I'm going to hate it because we judge people who are fat, I judge myself for being fat. I'm still the same heart and soul and mind...inside the fat ass body. But,we're not going to think about that, are we? No, we're not. People will whisper how I finally quit going out to eat, and that's what did it. People are going to whisper how I finally got control of myself.
Yes, I finally have control of myself and isn't it just grand.
Yes, I finally have control of myself and isn't it just grand.
