Pages

Friday, 4 March 2022

Better For Who?!

“I want someone who makes me want to be a better person”


We’ve all heard this type of thing, right? Or someone newly in love saying they’re with someone “who makes me want to be better…” in whatever ways they are gushing about at the moment. Why does it take someone new to motivate us in this way? Why is this deemed something to aspire to in a relationship? 


I found myself in a situationship a few months ago where the other person really had no ambitions in life. They seemed resigned to working unfulfilling part time jobs (despite having degrees), living with their parents, and not even really pursuing their own hobbies or interests very much anymore. We met, had a couple of really great dates, and suddenly on the third date (my b-day) they told me they were in love with me. It was all too much for me, but also very fun and flattering and I quickly got caught up in all of their feels, without realizing they were not in fact matching my own feelings. 


They were all too comfortable in my apartment that night (third date), we had fun and all, and hey the sex was nice, but I didn’t invite or ask them to spend the night, yet they had an overnight bag in-hand already. I rolled with it, but in my head it really bothered me that they never explicitly asked that it was okay. They would do the same for two more nights, bringing more and more full-sized toiletries and sundries into my bathroom and bedroom. After a few nights of little to no sleep I told them they needed to go home. They assured me they would, but then got too stoned to leave at a reasonable time and truly tested my patience. I needed alone time, they left me with barely enough time to sleep!


Then I got a glimpse into their life by way of how they handled their “best friend” calling them out of the blue. They literally didn’t know how to handle it at all. At first they ignored the call, we were in the middle of picking food for dinner to order and go pickup, but upon my insistence, they picked up the call but appeared confused and distressed. They kept trying to look at my phone (where the menu was displayed) and talk to their friend on their own phone. The result was an overall rudeness to all parties that chafed me terribly. This continued, this half conversation with the friend who was only inviting them to a party, and their distracted half interest in the physical-present moment with me. When they finally hung up (after I insisted they take their friend off speaker phone – how fucking rude) I was shocked and appalled. They apologized for the phone call. I replied, “I’m more worried about how you treat your friends. I take friendships very seriously. If this is normal for you then this simply won’t work out.”
A week later I broke things off. It took four and a half hours of talking, crying, begging, pleading, bargaining, and completely refusing to listen to me when I tried to explain that I just couldn’t be in a relationship and that I needed to prioritize my own mental health as I had only two weeks prior lost my dog-son to illness after a month in and out of the ICU. My life was in shambles but this person had already decided that I was “the one” and that they had already begun to invest and improve many aspects of their life. I explained that I was happy for them and that they should continue to do those things because none of that had anything to do with me and everything to do with their own brighter future.


If you’ve never broken up with a cisgendered, heterosexual adult male, it is a trying and difficult thing in the best of circumstances. It became apparent to me very quickly as I tried to explain that I needed to break things off that this person had lived a very sheltered life and still clung to the few accolades they received in high school as though they were still relevant. They insisted they screwed things up and would make things right with me. When I explained over and over again that I simply needed to heal and grieve, they refused to hear me. I barely knew this person and they were on their knees and in tears begging me for a lifetime of love and partnership. 


I’m an empathetic and compassionate person, I cannot simply be callous in the face of heartbreak and pain. I was calm, I was patient, I wanted them to know that I cared but that I couldn’t be with them. I told them almost a hundred times that night that they did nothing wrong, this was me needing to care for myself, but none of it mattered. Once they felt they had lost something they believed to be fully theirs already,  they became so stubborn and obstinate that I finally insisted, “Do not make me kick you out tonight.” To which they replied, “You will definitely have to kick me out, I can’t leave if I don’t want to.” 


They began to list each new thing they had started to improve or invest in their life. They insisted they wanted me to meet their parents (I told them on our first date I never wanted to meet anyone’s parents). It became unbearably obvious to me that I wasn’t a whole person to them at all but merely someone to fill the void in their life and check all of their boxes for a girlfriend or partner. I asked them if they felt all of this on our first date and they admitted that they did. I had a hunch that they saw my profile on Tinder and simply decided I was their person. It’s bizarre but it happens. This isn’t even the first time this type of thing has happened to me.


How could someone you barely know inspire such passion, such motivation, such sudden desire for self improvement? I’m not here to blame or imply that there was anything wrong about this other person, simply that it wasn’t the right time or fit for me. They refused to let go and continued to text me for the next few days. I had told them I was going out of town to visit a friend and would have my phone off but that I wouldn’t block them but I also wouldn’t reply to them. Their texts were hot and cold, pleading and then flippant. Finally they left me a voice message that was very long and upsetting. I told them it was enough and they agreed. I thought it was done. I found out later that they had sent a friend request to my bff on facebook along with a lengthy diatribe about how “She’s a player and uses men all of the time! She’s no good!” and so on. My friend refused to screenshot the message but read it to me while I was driving one day. It really felt like they crossed a line by messaging my friend like that, but I told my friend that I wouldn’t do anything in response either way. I was done. 


The last time I remember being the one to say, “They make me want to be a better person!” makes me wanna laugh or barf to think about now. The person was a loser, obsessed with get rich quick ideas but did little to nothing in their actual life but the bare minimum, but I was dazzled by their good looks and seemingly hot job. Ha-ha! It took dating two different Googlers to say, “NEVER AGAIN!” Looking back I see now that there is a reason for this “better person” stuff. It is often the first time, or maybe just the first in a long time, that someone was looking at me with new eyes/perspective. They were reflecting only positivity towards me. Nothing shocking there, new relationships bring about all sorts of seemingly new and good feels. To have someone see the parts of you that you hate or others have disparaged and actually admire and adore those parts? It can be transformative. And it was for me then. 
What is interesting to me is that very few relationships have made me feel that way. When I met my ex-husband, while we were friends first, I never had that feeling of needing or wanting to grow/improve/invest in myself “for them” in that way. We met very young though and weren’t fully formed individuals then. We were together for fourteen years, mostly happy, but then we simply wanted different futures. We split ten years ago. We’re still friends. My subsequent relationships have been far less interesting and exciting, but certainly filled a need I had at the time in one way or another. No regrets! Ha-ha!
After my last LTR ended on a sour note (some people are just plain rude) I decided I wasn’t going to jump into anything again so soon. I wanted to take some time to get right with myself before sharing my life like that again. Previously, I had always struggled with being alone. I grew up the oldest of three siblings and always had to share. Even when I left my husband I moved in with a roommate. After all was said and done, I suddenly found myself alone, unemployed, and wanting to figure out how to be okay with that in a very deep and real way. I did not know what I was asking for! Ha-ha! 
I have C-PTSD, so silence was a big trigger for many years because silence meant something was wrong or about to happen. Silence would make my skin crawl. Silence was never to be trusted, and people less so. Some friends gave me an Amazon Echo around the same time and when I was faced with the possibility of being able to simply say any song or artist and have it play it, my brain broke. I sat there for almost thirty minutes completely frozen. I usually have at least two songs stuck in my head at any given time, so this was a shock. I had nothing. I sat there in silence. Hating it. Confused by it. Fighting it but unable to conjure anything at all, until I was finally resigned to it. I would eventually tell it to just play something eighties, and soon had music playing almost constantly. 
It was a dark time personally. I had been thrown under a bus by my manager and fired over the most petty nonsense ever. Soon my whole team would quit that place. I turned forty. I didn’t want to date anymore. I hated where I lived. The only thing I loved at that time was my beloved puggo. Everything just seemed terrible and so I shrank my life and world down to almost nothing. All I did was apply for jobs, interview for jobs, and walk and feed my puggo. I was barely eating, certainly not enjoying life in any real way, but it felt necessary. 
Then my former teammate reached out and asked that I apply for a job at her new employer’s office. I did and I got the job. After nine months I moved back to a town I love and got my own apartment for the first time ever. I still can’t believe it sometimes. But that time I spent alone, really and truly alone in the world and not seeking any sort of external validation, taught me so much. I’ve always known I was a survivor, but to be truly independent and on my own terms felt unreal and magical somehow. Even if what felt like a palace to me would be a shack to others, I was proud and started to truly feel good about myself and where I was heading. 
I know, I know, “What does this have to do with that whole being a better person stuff?!” The thing was, it was never dating or status or money or a job or validation I needed to actually be a better person. I just needed to get to know myself on a deeper, quieter level, without all of that external “noise” so to speak. So much of what we surround ourselves with is actually negative and not in alignment with our paths or passions. That is the “noise” I mean. The more time I spent alone, quiet and just allowed to be, the more I loved my life and myself, and of course that amazing puggo. 


I have a lot of past birthday related trauma, so I often try to peace out so I don’t have to pretend or possibly get triggered and lose my shit. Feeling quite good about where I was headed back in 2019, a colleague insisted that I should do the things I was wanting to do but holding myself back in fear. “No one can do that for you, so just do it!” So I booked my first solo travel adventure to Hawaii and not only checked off something that had been on my bucket list for ages (visiting a seahorse preserve in Kona and holding a seahorse), but it was also a life changer. Yes, Hawaii is beautiful and special and if you do it right you don’t have to have a negative impact on the nature or culture there. For me it was about getting out of my comfort zone and routine and finding my inner peace. I found it! And I actually slept so well the first night that I woke up refreshed for the first time in my entire life! 


I’ve had insomnia pretty regularly since I was twelve years old. Waking up refreshed always seemed like something that only happened in commercials or movies. I have always hated mornings, even when I owned a cafe and had to get up before the sun each day, I got used to it but never enjoyed getting up. That first morning in Hilo was magical! All I could hear were nature sounds. What sounded like a bajillion frogs, singing birds, rustling trees in soft breezes, the gentle lapping of the waves at the shore nearby, all became a symphony. The air smelled sweeter! I visited the lava flows that day on my own in my rental car with The Carters and Lizzo to keep me company along the way. I couldn’t stop smiling and singing. It was so surreal to see the landscape change from paradise to post apocalyptic, but it also felt comforting in an odd way.


I had no one to share this magical experience with. It didn’t bother me or make me sad, it was simply a fact and I accepted it and was committed to enjoying myself as much as I possibly could. The next day I visited that seahorse preserve and stayed the night in Kona. The next morning I woke up refreshed again. All I could hear were the waves. I stretched out in the king sized bed in the condo I rented and relished in the moment. Every part of me felt in harmony, inside and out. I went for a drive and got some yummy coffee and checked out some little shops but found myself in a sad mood on my birthday. I was nervous about the activity I had booked for myself that evening, but maybe also excited. 


I wanted to be excited but there’s so many things that can happen when you’re just trying to do regular things in the world when you live in a fat body that I was getting increasingly anxious about going snorkeling that night with manta rays. I had never snorkeled either, but I am a decent swimmer, and it said kids were welcome. I got a massage to try to relax and calm my nerves. I had a mimosa on the balcony of the condo at sunset and texted my friends about my adventures. Then it was time and I headed out to the dock to meet up with the boat crew. It all went great and I had the time of my life! The manta rays would swim up and do backflips almost a foot away from my face! It was exhilarating!


I drove back to the condo exhausted, wired, and starving, so I stopped off at a Taco Bell drive thru for my bday dinner. Ha-ha! When I got back to the condo I put my feet up and scarfed down my tacos with glee. Feeling fully satisfied, I put something silly on Netflix and just sat there for a few minutes when it hit me: Bliss! Peace! I felt so satisfied with just everything in that moment. All that I had been through, all that I had done or even given up, all that I had chosen and moved towards and it was all syncing up and I felt so at peace. I then had like the best shower of my life and slept better than ever, again awaking refreshed. 


I realized that this waking up refreshed business had everything to do with not having the “noise” of others around me. Not that where I was staying was secluded at all, in fact it was a tourism hot spot, but I don’t just mean people in general. I mean the “noise” and influences in our day to day life. The things we must say and do in order to keep the peace for others, in order to get through the day, in order to keep our jobs or a roof over our head, the mask we must wear in order to live in a capitalist society that fails us all every single day. It’s a lot! We don’t even realize it because we’re so used to it. It feels normal because it’s all we know. That inner peace stuff always felt like some myth or mystery only to be unlocked by those worthy or studious or whatever, certainly not me.


You don’t need to go to Hawaii to find your inner peace. In fact, please don’t, the Hawaiian people are struggling and we should do all we can to support them and not invade or make their living conditions (ie drinking water) worse. You can find that peace within yourself. Not through meditation, though that works for some, I could never quiet my mind enough to actually get any benefit from the attempts. Much of life is in the trying though, and I put value in that for sure. Much of getting anything or anywhere on this journey of life is simply showing up. So how do we find this peace and show up for ourselves? Why do we rely on others as a cue to want to better ourselves? Why does it feel impossible to find a mate? Why does it feel far fetched to find inner peace? I don’t consider myself a dreamer. I don’t really feel that I have any dreams like I once did long ago for my future or whatever. I do think life is a journey and what you put in you will often get back in return, but not always. I don’t believe that anything in life is meant to be or fair. Things happen, nature takes its course, you can learn and grow and move on, or you can wallow in your misery and get stuck. I got real comfortable in my own misery. I cast myself in the wrong movie, you see, and found that I was “just fine” in its sad storyline, until I wasn’t. 


Even when I was dating physicists, oncologists, security engineers, developers, and millionaires, I just wasn’t feeling it. Even though these suitors were high caliber, even at the top of their fields globally, and definitely into what I had going on, it wasn’t right. Because they had focused so long and so hard on their careers, these people weren’t emotionally equipped to connect with others at the depths I was seeking. Even deep conversation was a lofty goal for some of them. I soon became far less dazzled and intrigued by the usual resumes found on dating sites and stopped dating entirely for a couple of years. I thought at first that there must be something going on with me to not feel as into these people as they did me. 


I don’t care what a potential suitor does for work, so long as it isn’t a torment in their life. I don’t care what kind of car they drive or brand of clothing they wear, I only care about getting to know someone and connecting. That’s it. It seems so simple and easy but boy howdy is it not! If you’re dating cisgendered, heterosexual males, you are dealing with humans who have not been socialized to develop many likable traits or even a full personality. Many don’t have a thought of their own in their head to share, yet they are deemed successful by society because of their degrees or career or their possessions and status. 


We often talk about what people are bringing to the table. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want anyone to bring anything to my table but their whole selves. I don’t want anything material or monetary, I want realness and truth. I want people in my life with flaws and big hearts. I want people who haven’t had it easy and have found a way to be true to themselves anyway. A degree sounds good or looks great on a CV, but when it comes to love and romance and building a life with someone, it doesn’t mean shit. You can only learn so much in traditional schooling. You cannot learn to love yourself there. There’s no degree in being a good person.


I don’t need a person to share my life with in order to feel fulfilled and I know this now. I am actually and truly happy on my own. It is a little scary, to be honest. Scary to be so contended with one’s own company that I cannot imagine wanting to live with another person again. Another person in my space? Yikes! No thank you! Ha-ha! I mean it, but I also know that life has a way of showing us what we need when we need it to. So I have faith in myself and that what I am doing is right because it feels right. I dip my toe into the dating pool from time to time but it’s not something I feel that I have to do in order to fit in or feel complete. I am a fully formed and whole person. I don’t need someone else to feel complete. I can live as big or as small of a life as I want to, and that is liberating!


I don’t think most folks have had the time or desire to really just be alone with themselves and to truly get to know their own nature on a deeper level. I know I didn’t for a long time. It is hard to face. It is hard to hold yourself accountable for your own growth and fulfillment. It is so much easier to look outside of yourself or your life and seek/find fulfillment there, or to blame others or just circumstance on what is lacking in our lives. It is what’s expected. Get the degree, get the career, get the car and the house, get the spouse and the kids, live happily ever after. But that is not how my story goes. There is sooooo much more to life than just the obsolete nuclear family fantasy. 


When you do get to know yourself, when you can fully trust your instincts and know your needs and wants, all of that other stuff feels so silly. If you’re seeking happiness as a destination, you have already gotten lost! Happiness is a benefit or a passing but hopefully frequent feeling. It is the result of being on the right path for you. It is not somewhere you can just plug into your GPS. Happiness and the true meaning of life, I think anyway, is connection. Feeling connected to others, to ourselves, to our community, not only brings feelings of happiness but also increases longevity. That is a fact proven by science! When we feel more connected we are happier and live longer, regardless of our lifestyle or health.


I don’t think any of this is a secret but it may feel that way. I know it did for me for a long time. What we want from connections matters too, though. I think intent/motivation plays a larger role than we want to believe it does. If you wait for someone to come into your life to shine a light on the parts of you that you didn’t like so that you can be a better person, it’s a half truth in a way. Or a half life. To do it for yourself because you know you deserve to feel happiness and fulfillment is something wholly different. So much of what we feel about ourselves inside and out has nothing to do with our own thoughts or beliefs at all! So much of it is society, capitalism, beauty standards, religion, or familial obligation. 


We aren’t born into this world hating our bodies or assuming we are wrong simply by existing. This is all pressed upon us from such an early age we have no memory of it. And it is all so socially accepted that few even question it at all. If you can get rid of all of that for even just a day, and just sit with yourself quietly and listen to the true you inside, not the negative plant begging for water/attention (ego), you will find that peace you seek inside of you. You will find the parts you want to improve or regrow, they will become apparent. You will see that you’re not wrong, you were hindered. 


Look, our parents did what they could with what they had at the time, and as we get older ourselves we may see the effects our upbringing has had on our lives and ourselves. It is up to us as adults to re-parent and better support ourselves in the ways that work for us now. It means not allowing the negative self-talk to take over but to acknowledge that the thought is there but it doesn’t belong to or come from the real and true you. You can picture letting it go like a balloon, if you’re the visual type. You can picture it as an poisonous plant that keeps trying to take over the lovely garden that is you! If you water (give attention to) the negative plant it will grow and take over. If you ignore it and deprive it of attention, it will wither. You can water the rest of your garden and allow your inner self to flourish. When you do you will soon see that this can have a ripple effect on the rest of your life. 


You are worth showing up for. You are worth trying for. You are worth every ounce of effort and energy there is in the world in order to feel better about yourself and who you are. Where you live, what you do for work, what you possess materially, those are not who you are. Marie Kondo cannot tell you what brings you joy, only you know that part! Fads pass, retail therapy is so fleeting, but you are with you for life. This is the relationship we need to nurture and cherish and protect from harm. When we do this the rest really does follow! 


We can better ourselves now, without paying for it or seeking permission externally. We can be our best selves every day. What that looks like will change, maybe even every day as well. And why not?! We are constantly growing and absorbing new information, so we should accept that our best selves are constantly changing too. We can take inspiration from anything but I choose nature itself to be my muse. We have worked so hard as a species to separate ourselves from nature, but that is where true connection lies, I think. The more connected we are to nature, the better our understanding of our place in it and our impact on it and each other. With that in mind, how could we not want to better ourselves?


It feels impossible to find a mate because we seek something outside of ourselves in the hopes of “having it all” or finding happiness. That isn’t how it works though. You gotta know that by now! I’m not saying you can’t find love until you love yourself. I am saying that the love you find is where you are at in that moment of your life. It is up to you to decide if it is right and sustainable for you or if you’re not ready for your ultimate love yet, like I am. I’m still very much loving my solo life and almost sort of falling in love with myself in a way. I don’t want someone at my table or to bring anything to it. When I’m ready, I am certain that another person will come into my life when they are ready and whole and loving themselves too. I imagine the connection will feel like waking up refreshed. I want that for all of us. We deserve it. But so few of us realize it or put in the work to get ourselves there, ya know?

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (We only recorded a few episodes but they were good!)

Donate to this blog here: https://ift.tt/n9SG8hE currently donations will be given directly to Black women in need through my network.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (updated frequently and not just about fat stuff): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same shared content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

Are you on MeWe? I started a fat-feminist group there called, Rad Fatties Unlimited, look for it! I’m also on Space Hey: NotBlueAtAll

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.) notblueatall@notblueatall.com



via I'm Not Blue at All https://ift.tt/OSMG1no

Wednesday, 2 March 2022

Who The Health?!

We’ve all seen similar stories covered in our local news or even in our news feeds online, “So and so was a nurse who loved snowboarding with their spouse and doing things in their community until one day they injured their back lifting a patient and later found they couldn’t move without excruciating pain.” and then they get into all of the care they were offered, therapies tried or meds prescribed. They get into how their life was taken away from them by the pain. Now house or couch bound, hope seemed all but lost. Then one day something they were offered works and “now they’re running 5k’s again! Isn’t life full of miracles!” BARF! Look, I’m not a full on hater here, but we’ve all seen these stories of otherwise socially acceptable-bodied individuals getting everything offered and thrown at them so they can “get back to living!” and all of that. The reality for anyone outside of what is deemed to be a socially acceptable-body is far more grim.

I know so many people, myself included, who have lived with chronic pain for over a decade. We have had to bear witness to our own limitations increasing along with the pain. Because we live in bodies deemed “other” we don’t get offered anything but enforced suffering or outright denial of our personhood. It is so appalling and degrading and wrong and yet this feels more common than those feel good stories will ever be (at least in the USA). I’ve had well meaning friends insist I get my right knee “checked out” and all I can offer back as a response is a slight smile because I can’t do the emotional labor of having to explain the failings of our healthcare for profit system and how it seeks to do anything but care for us. It seems an easy thing to say, hey go see a doctor, but the reality is so fucked up I can’t go to a doctor’s appointment or even the ER without first fasting because they will see my fat body and immediately pathologize it/me as diabetic (I’m not, but that is beside the point).

The way hospitals and doctors treat those in pain is absolutely horrific to me. I was accused of being both a drug seeker and not in pain at all when my gallbladder failed and I had to drive myself to the ER and refused morphine or any other pain meds. I explained to the team caring for me that I wanted to be clear headed so I could make informed medical decisions for myself and their reactions were akin to seeing an extraterrestrial. At one point the doctor looked right at me and said, “I’m not even sure you’re in any pain.” and smiled at me. I looked them dead in the eye and said, “I came in here at a 9/10 and you’re saying I’m not in pain? I’ve been vomiting from the pain alone!” It would take another 3 months to get the correct diagnosis (after 3 wrong ones) and another 9 months after that before I could get on the schedule to have my gallbladder removed. And mine was a common and relatively straight forward procedure. Imagine if it was rare or involved far more complicated issues?!

If you are white, able bodied, and below a size 14, you get treated with care, urgency, and kindness. If you are anyone else it is an absolute crap shoot! If you are Black, fat, queer, non-binary or trans, you will be forced to prove yourself and your humanity at every step if you’re lucky enough to get past the initial “Oh maybe there is something medically going on with this person” and that is a tough one to get past. I know some pretty incredible, talented, brilliant and the most caring of people and the level of pain they live with day to day absolutely boggles the mind. I say this as I am coming to terms with my own chronic pain. Realizing all of these years later the damage past jobs have caused to my body and how those 11 months of excruciating pain changed me as a person but also took a lot of my mobility away.

To seek any kind of treatment is like gearing up for battle. One must steel themselves before opening up to medical professionals these days. We must advocate for ourselves and ask ridiculous questions like, “What would you offer as treatment to someone in a smaller body with this same issue?” because we know the only “treatment” we are ever offered is to shrink our bodies and suffer in pain regardless of scientifically known outcomes. Many physicians won’t even physically examine our fat or Black or disabled (or all of the above) bodies. To them we are a nuisance at best and repulsive at worst. It is at the hands and words of these so-called care providers that we get the worst of the abuse and trauma thrown at our bodies and minds. What about the lives we were meant to be living? What about our contributions to community or the world? Just because I have no desire to run any k’s ever, doesn’t mean I should have to suffer and lose mobility or be denied treatment. And the shit thing is, even when we are offered treatment for pain relief (often meds), it doesn’t even mean it will work or be sustainable. I have friends who get regular cortisone shots in their spines and knees and hips and things just to barely get by. They are not thriving, they are functioning at a very low level, but not because of anything they have done or deserve at all. As if being a good or bad person should have anything to do with getting the medical care and attention one needs. 

Living in a body deemed as “other” means having to ask again and again for accommodation. Will the waiting room have a seat I can use comfortably? Will the hospital gown fit? Will I be able to get up on the exam table? Will I be able to get up onto the x-ray table (that thing is tall!)? Will I fit in the MRI machine? Will they have a back/knee/arm brace that fits me? Will I be denied surgery due to my size? And all of this is before we get into insurance coverages, co-pays, or final billing amounts. UGH!

There needs to be a massive overhaul of our entire healthcare system, but failing that (because it has always failed us), a paradigm shift so that simply seeking relief from horrible pain isn’t seen as “drug seeking” or simply being a “big ole baby” (the way nurses talk about patients when they don’t realize we can hear them! Whew!). I think there have been some recent attempts here for better and more accessible tele-health options. I think I read about one specifically aimed to help fat folks get better medical care too, forgive me for not knowing the name (please comment if you know it!). I think it’s a great idea and good first step in the right direction. I wonder to this day if I would have gotten the same correct diagnosis from a surgeon I never met because they had a hunch on over the phone. If they saw my fat face would they have still ordered that one last test? Would I still be suffering from a zombified gallbladder? I can’t know, but I have a hunch. 😉

Because I’ve had such physical jobs in the past I have also been injured on the job and had to go through worker’s compensation processes in order to get care. In case you didn’t know, you cannot just go to your regular doctor if you get hurt at work. Nope! You have to go to an occupational clinic and lemme tell ya, both times I had to do this they treat you like a scammer the second you walk through the door, no matter your actual injuries. It is utterly dehumanizing and I hated it so much. Having said that, they did have a back brace that fit me and it has been a life saver for me over the years since I’ve had it. But there was zero care, zero compassion, zero empathy in these clinics. 

I don’t really have a big point here other than just UGH FUCK THIS SHIT! I am currently in need of an eye exam (I’m way overdue), a dental cleaning (and like many thousands of dollars in dental work that I likely won’t ever actually afford to get and thus have a tooth rotting out of my head), and either physical therapy or chiropractic adjustments/treatment for my knee (I feel like it’s misaligned at my hip maybe). Only the eye exam and teeth cleaning would be covered by my insurance and I have pretty damn great coverage, all things considered. Yet it is somehow on me to “BE HEALTHY” and all of that bullshit thrown at us in marketing campaigns every fucking day of our lives. Health in this way is not accessible or even attainable for everyone. We all need to let go of that notion. 

No matter your life or lifestyle, being able bodied or healthy is temporary at best. There will come a time when you will need medical care/attention/treatment. This is simply how bodies work, they break down over time. Just because my car guy says that my little Toyota will “run forever” doesn’t mean that I will. My running days are long gone. I wish I could just go in for a tune up like I can my car! Ha-ha! I really hope I can find a chiropractor who will treat me humanely and with compassion because I have some childhood trauma from chiropractors that I’d rather not revisit but also unafraid to, ya know, because I think it’s my best option for my knee knowing what I do about going to the doctor for such things. And I think it’s perfectly “healthy” to be pissed off about all of this! Because it’s fucking maddening and we all know better, dammit!

I saw a post in a group I’m in on FB yesterday asking if everyone is always denied knee replacement and must suffer many years of pain and mobility degradation or if smaller bodies get approved for these procedures right away. What I thought is what I saw in comments, that yes smaller folks get more approvals, but more often than not it isn’t the patient that is the issue but the “success rate” of the procedure as far as longevity. One person said they knew someone young and thin who was denied and forced to suffer for decades because it wouldn’t be viable to do it again at age 60 if they did it in this person’s twenties. That person died in their early thirties because they also had seizures, and living with the pain, decreased mobility and a myriad of meds, lead to their quality of life degrading. Had they had the knee replacement they could have survived the seizure that took their life away because the other issues that came after would have been prevented. But it is doctor’s who insist on these “success rates” and such because to them it’s about “the work” and never the human receiving the procedures.

To be told to lose weight in order to get necessary medical procedures/surgeries is inhumane, cruel, and dangerous. You are telling someone that their pain and their life mean nothing if they are not such and such a size. You are telling us all that we do not matter to the world in any capacity unless we accomplish what no scientific study to date has proven to even be possible! What the hell is the point of that?! You might as well ask me to jump over the Empire State Building as it is just as likely to be possible! Even if it was possible to lose weight (insert the biggest eye roll emoji here), how could anyone expect to accomplish this while suffering in excruciating pain? To look someone in the eye and insist that their life is in their own hands in that most vulnerable of moments?! Are you fucking kidding me?! We should all be glad that I am not in a position of power and punishment doling because I would have a special sort of place juuuuust for such “care givers”.

The stigma our healthcare system has custom built-in for itself to deny care to as many people as possible is also claiming it is all our own faults for being fat in the first place, regardless of what our medical needs actually are. Not to mention the fact they no one truly knows for certain why populations of humans, and many other species, have increased in size at the same rates globally. I’m no scientist, but I read a lot of articles written by them. I know that no scientific study has ever found a way to lose weight in a safe, meaningful (as in more than 10 lbs), and permanent way, ever. So when a doctor gets on their high horse about this stuff or reached for the stomach amputation pamphlet (they always do), I ask them very pointedly if they consider themselves a believer in science. Not that I think belief has anything to do with science, but you know what I mean. Someone who studies science and uses its principles in their work should not be offering suggestions of health organ amputation to anyone! Nor any other ridiculous method of weight loss getting hyped up today. They should know better, they are paid and educated to know better, and yet they and the insurance companies refuse and we are left to suffer at their hands and willful ignorance.

May the force be with us all.

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (We only recorded a few episodes but they were good!)

Donate to this blog here: https://ift.tt/SpQXkrY currently donations will be given directly to Black women in need through my network.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (updated frequently and not just about fat stuff): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same shared content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

Are you on MeWe? I started a fat-feminist group there called, Rad Fatties Unlimited, look for it! I’m also on Space Hey: NotBlueAtAll

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.) notblueatall@notblueatall.com



via I'm Not Blue at All https://ift.tt/JmVNZpE