I'm not proud of many of my personality quirks, if you'll allow me to be so kind to myself. Well, it's my blog, so I'm going to be. If you know me, or have read more than a handful of posts, you know that I'm not the picture of mental health. I'm not going to delve into all the ways that mental illness has impacted my life; that would take to long and be humiliating. Sometimes I get very upset, and possibly suicidal, about things that most other people easily shake off. Most of the things that get to me have to do with how much I hate myself. You can only take so much of the whole self-loathing thing before you start to collapse, like a black hole. A critical mass is reached, and then there is an explosion. It could manifest as a bout of severe anxiety and depression, self-injury, suicidal thoughts or behavior, or hiding out in my flat. These moments are more frequent than I'd like to admit, but I've developed countless strategies to get past them. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't, but there was once a time in my life when I didn't have them. I was totally at the mercy of the illnesses from which I suffer. At least I'm a little better off now. Progress.
Unfortunately, one of those survival strategies consists of (as I mentioned) hiding out and eliminating human interaction for days at a time, sometimes longer. In that vein, I also try to stay away from situations that could trigger a hospital stay or a suicide attempt. For example, a couple of months ago I had a chance at what was for me a dream job, or close to it. An opportunity was provided to get back to work, and as a writer, no less. Against my better judgement (but in line with hope) I jumped at the chance. Then some familiar anxieties and fears started massing in my brain. And from there a little bit of madness ensued, and I knew I was in danger. So I backed off and was ashamed. I had disappointed my friends and family. Those closest to me had yet another reason to see me as sad and pathetic. And I gave it to them.
But I digress. A couple of news stories recently have put me on edge, and I feel that need to hide again. Emotions are too intense, fueled by a shattered ego. Usually I touch the raw nerves myself. Rarely does anyone else. I try at keeping them hidden, or at finding privacy so I can wince and guage the damage done, and then from there heal a bit.
The news stories I mentioned have to do with obesity. As I said in my last post, it hasn't been an easy month for the fat. But the "socially contagious" obesity story, along with the report of a man who was told he couldn't adopt his nephew because he was too overweight (500 lbs), have me snapping at strangers, reaching for the lorazepam, and closing my bedroom door. There are other signs, as well, that I won't bore you with. Why do I feel so under attack personally?
Part of the reason has to do with how we're supposed to be a society that is becoming more and more tolerant of differences. And we seem to be moving the other way with people who suffer with the eating disorder responsible for obesity. A doctor on television this morning said, "We don't want to add to the negative stigma of obesity, or to socially isolate anyone, we just want people to be aware that being around overweight friends could contribute to your gaining weight, too." I would hate to hear what he would have said if he DIDN'T want to socially isolate obese people. He went on to say that being around obese people "normalizes" obesity, and that is a health threat.
I heard the doctor and the story, and then thought about it for a few minutes. I felt the tell-tale emotional outrage growing within me, and I sought privacy. Suddenly, the lack of self respect I feel because of my weight fused with a strange sense of guilt. I felt like a pariah. J'accuse! Sirens were blaring. I was getting more irritable, was on the verge of tears, and at one point had to resist the urge to take 6 or 8 lorazepam so I could just knock myself out for the rest of the day. Then I was on the telephone with an SP comrade l and just started crying. I made an excuse and got off the phone. This made me angry, so I hit myself in the face twice.
I don't know what conclusions to draw from all this. All I know is that it's true, and that I'm glad I have no plans for the weekend. And I'm ashamed to admit that part of me wants to physically hurt the people who are further stigmatizing obesity. The aforementioned doctor on television this morning is over in Cambridge. Some dark part of me wants to beat the shit out of him. I feel judged by a society that has no place judging anyone. I'm a good, reasonable and compassionate person who doesn't deserve to be told that he is a health risk to others just by existing.
I'll leave you with what some CNN correspondant said about all this. She was thin from what I could tell. She said, "If your social network starts to spread out and include obese friends, you may find parts of your body spreading." Very funny. I'm glad she could find humor in an illness that leaves the patient socially crippled, mentally anguished and physically in danger of his or her life. Not to mention reduced quality of life. Fuck her. I hope she gets AIDS and then loses a leg to a bear. Twice. Now that's funny.
2 comments:
So well put, darren, but don't hurt yourself. relax my tortured friend.Eve Mb.
The whole idea of social obesity is ridiculous to me. Sure there is some influence on what we eat from our friends, but to go forward and claim that I become obese because I know obese people is ludicrous. I have PLENTY of obese friends, and I'm 5'10", 185 lbs. My wife is overweight, one of my best friends(your brother) is overweight, I've had overweight friends my whole life, and I'm glad that I've had those friendships, because people obsessed about their looks are bitches. I've spent the last 4 years eating just about every meal of my life with an overweight person, and I'm not overweight. Fuck you, Journal of Medicine.
Social outcasts tend to congregate, for the same reasons that other groups congregate, and that's because they have similarities. I love food, and I could never have a very good relationship with someone who didn't enjoy food, I've tried. I once dated a woman, for a very short time, who would make substitutions on every meal that she got, commented on how many calories things had, how much fat, how unhealthy I was eating, etc. Even though she may have had what society would call "a perfect body", I found her disgusting, judgmental, and not much fun to be with. I tried to continue the relationship for a while, because I actually listened to my then-friends that said "Oh, you'll never get someone as pretty as her again, you better hang on to her." I had the "American Dream Girl", a blond, big chested cheerleader, and I should be proud. But eventually, I realized that I was kidding myself, and that I was not happy, because she was an ugly person. So, I contacted a female friend of mine, who was plump, and who I enjoyed spending time with, to rekindle a friendship, and maybe more. I'm now very happily married to her, and I love the fact that she loves food, and can enjoy the good things in life.
Wow, talk about a tangent. My point is, social obesity is just the latest incarnation of isolating one group of people to make everyone else feel better. We(as the American society) have to have a group to pick on, be it the blacks, the gays, the asians, the hispanic, the poor, the women, the jews, the retarded, whatever. We have to feel better than someone else to have value. The fat are just the latest in a long line of targets. It sucks, and America really has to start believing in itself, and finding good in themselves instead of finding bad in other people to make themselves feel good. I know that seems like politically correct bullshit, but its not, because I think that we all need to friggin relax, and stop being such sheep to the media and the need to fit in. And I'm not being holier-than-thou, either. I love to make fun of people, but I don't generalize groups. I'll call someone a slope-headed mongoloid, but I won't call a whole group of people slope-headed mongoloids. Except southerners. But they're not really people.
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