heavy

something weird happens when you get fat. everyone around you will still talk about 'fat people' in general and it's never clear if they are doing a poor job trying to tell you personally something, if they have a psychological something that causes them not to view you as fat (even though you are), or if they really just don't care / don't think you can hear them.

my dad and i text jokes back and forth to each other. one day he started making up his own--there were a lot about byu football. then he sends this one:

"what happens when you put a ring on the finger of a byu undergrad?"

"she blows up like a balloon."

i was so shocked. my dad has NEVER said a word against me, and while we disagree about a lot of things (like the constitution and mitt romney and welfare), i cannot even imagine having a contentious relationship with him and have never, ever felt looked down upon by him. i was shocked. in his defense, he was probably on A LOT of drugs, but i just couldn't believe it.

this past weekend we saw all of my family for a farewell. it's ironic, but going around my family makes me feel worse about my body than anything else in my life. my mom and her sisters have all gained a healthy amount of weight from having kids, but other than that the only other overweight person on either side of my family is my aunt carrie (who everyone thinks is a joke, sadly). they are all skinny and good looking and wonderful. i hadn't seen most of them in a long time and as they filed past me in church and said hi i could see that look on their eyes of, 'whoa, what happened to her?'

i have a lot of feelings about weight gain. i've often wondered if growing up with brothers gave me a misconception about my metabolism and therefore caused me to overeat. or if what my mom ate during her pregnancy causes me to eat more / crave more than other people. or if i have depression. or if other people just eat nothing, all the time. or if their bodies just handle it better.

i love my body. i'm amazed with the shit it puts up with. i'm amazed that it will continue to function and grow through all i put it through. whatever you do to it, it just takes it. human life seems fragile but in reality it is difficult to die by lifestyle (even if it is becoming more prevalent). when i'm home and i look in the mirror, i see that my body is a war zone but i also see that it is beautiful and good. i always tell myself it is not so bad, and i mean it. but then i go to the store or the movies or somewhere in public and see the size everyone else is. it is, weirdly, encouraging. it helps me keep perspective and understand that it's good to appreciate my body but that i need to be realistic about what is normal or not.

i've won the mind games before, and i lost a lot of weight. the habit of exercising was so instinctual and bodily. i really did do it for the hormones and how good it felt. i was honestly not doing it to lose weight, it wasn't even a thought. but, not having exercised in more than a year, i don't have bodily memory of what that felt like, and i can't seem to get myself going.