Sex And The Single Load

Good points on the last post, AC. I'm just going to add a couple of points and then I'll stop bitching. People who have never had to deal with obesity just don't know how awful it is. They just don't understand that the "financial incentives" cooked up by insurance companies (obviously for added profit) are not going to help a single person to lose weight. There are countless other reasons to do so, and if they don't compel, nothing will. It's up to the individual, and it requires Herculean strength even after the decision to get in shape is made.

Last night I couldn't sleep, and I was thinking about this and that. I had just polished off a bottle of pinot grigio and was literally sitting in my closet with Toulouse (my cat) curled up in my lap, and reading Bertrand Russell's Why I Am Not A Christian. I was wearing my night shirt and had a Suzy Q in my breast pocket. In case you don't know, a Suzy Q is a delightful, mass produced confection made up of two pieces of cake with a strange, slightly oily "creme filling" in the middle. I couldn't quite focus on my reading since I was drunk (again, this is a rare thing for me) and fighting off an incredibly nasty, punctuated depression. It was that scary angst and melancholy that led to the bottle of wine in the first place. At around 2am, as I gently stroked my dear Toulouse, I opened up and starting eating my creamy delight (sounds like gay erotica). It was the mindless act of a drunk, fat man, as I wasn't hungry. But food has always been a comfort for me, although less so now that the surgery has made it impossible to binge. Suddenly, I got really mad at myself for turning to food. At 35, I thought, I should know better. A deep chasm of past experience opened up and I looked into it and didn't like what I saw. Violently, I smashed that Suzy Q against the wall of the closet. Some cream shot out and landed on Toulouse as I twisted a dark arc of cake across the wall. Then I made a fist and the remains smushed out between my fingers. The absurd spectacle and sudden violence amused me, and for once food did chase the blues away without me actually having to eat anything. I would have thought it a dream, but this morning I woke up and found what looked like a crime scene involving a piece of cake.

The point is, dear reader, to the extent that there is one is that people who struggle with obesity frequently have an eating disorder that is fueled by thoughts and emotions beneath the fatty surface. Insurance companies are not going to cause a single person to lose weight, nor will further stigmatizing obesity help anyone. I think of all the things I tried in my life to lose weight. When I was 17 I tried OptiFast, which was a program where you drank all your meals. I lost 100lbs, but gained it back. I could go on and on and on. Until I finally decided to have Roux-n-Y gastric bypass surgery, open surgery, a prodecure that is extremely painful and difficult to get used to. Not to mention the 1-2% of people who actually die from it. And even though I lost a lot of weight and kept it off, I'm still obese! And while most people are not obese, they do understand how difficult it is to lose weight, even 5 pounds. And yet that still doesn't stop people from vastly over-simplifying this illness, and even insulting those who suffer from it.

I mentioned the reasons that exist to lose weight, and there are so many. I can think of one off the bat which is more compelling than every other one put together: sex. I'm not just talking about the physical act of love, but sex appeal, as well. Yes, health is a reason to lose weight, but it's nothing compared to wanting to look sexy. Think of how people smoke and drive when they have a buzz from drinking, or do drugs, even though it is to the detriment to their health. When I was in high school and was obese, I cared about my health, yes. But that was a moon cast shadow in importance compared to my desire to look good naked, or in jeans. Hell, a lot of people take up smoking just to look sexy! So if my desire to get laid, or at least want women to want to fuck me, didn't turn me into a health fiend, what could? Most people at the gym have only a vague notion of getting into shape for their health. It's philosophical. The real pay off, however, is a tight ass and to leave a trail of swooning women (or men, or both).

If you think I'm being crass or simple-minded, just look at how sex is used to sell. They even have that saying...sex sells. The car you drive, the clothes you wear, and most of the products you consume are sold to you using a very simple pitch: this will make you desirable. It's primal. Yes, it's true that one doesn't have to be fit to get ass. I've had more ass than a toilet seat in my life...ok, maybe not, but I do like that saying. But I've always been pretty lucky when it come to tricking members of the opposite sex into thinking I'm worth the time of day...at least for one night. But it would have been so much easier if I weren't a fat fuck. And I love women, and sex, a whole hell of a lot. Sex, sex, sex. I lost my virginity when I was 14, to a girl in my middle school who was my age. She was a virgin, too, and I think I got more out of the experience than she did. After the deed, we held each other in a sweaty, post-coital embrace. I remember feeling a bit guilty for hurting her, but we talked and laughed and she put me at ease. As she drifted to sleep, her tiny body curled up next to my girth, I remember thinking, "I like this...I want to do this as much as possible."

After that, there was a long dry spell. A couple of sticky encounters in high school, once with a man, but nothing worth talking about. About the time that I joined the Socialist Party (age 17), I came to three conclusions about sex. One, I enjoy the company of women on a level that language cannot adequately explain. Certainly a thought common to those whose sexual tastes are for the fairer sex. I also realized that even beyond sex I just got along much better with women and they generally got along well with me. To this day, I just hit it off with women as friends with great ease and comfort. but that's another issue. Two, I have to lose weight if I'm going to get laid as often as I would like. And three, I'm an ass man. I later realized that even a woman's elbow or ear would drive me nuts, but the ass was just...wow. Anyway, I had to lose weight. Either that, or get to know my hand.

I thought that when I served as a delegate at a SP convention in Chicago, at 17, I would try some moves and get me some radical ass. Late one night, in someone's hotel room as a group of us got to know each other, I thought for sure I would hook up. It just didn't happen. I hit it off as a friend and comrade, but fat just isn't sexy. And that's what fueled my constant attempts at losing weight. When I used to work out every morning at the Boston YMCA, back when I worked the overnight shift at a hotel nearby, I would pass the mirror in the locker room and (if nobody was looking) would look at my naked body and ask the same question...would I fuck me? The answer? Perhaps after a few drinks...maybe.

College provided several one night stands, three relationships, and one love affair with a married woman (it felt so grown up...an actual affair!). So I think I did pretty well, and am oddly pressed to conclude that there logically must be something attractive about my personality, because my man boobs and gut weren't helping me bed women. A friend at UMass Boston, a beautiful actress with whom I had a serious crush (that I tried to hide, with varying degrees of success) was pretty frank about my plight. I can't remember what she said, but it amounted to, "Would you rather be an obnoxious misogynistic hunk or a fat guy who women liked?" I responded, "Why can't I be a hunk that women like?" I didn't realize it at the time, but it was a compliment. I just remember being fixated for days on how she openly called me "fat." I never courted her, but at least I didn't kill our friendship by pushing her for sex. I wonder where she is now.

But I digress. I'm allowed to do that since it's my fucking blog. As for the weight loss surgery, was that motivated by a desire to be more desirable? Definitely. On the surface, my doctor and surgeon and friends all talked about "quality of life" and, of course, better health. No doubt that was a motivating factor. Deep down, though, I looked forward to that magical moment when you walk into a new girls' bedroom.

An Epidemic Of Judgmental Cruelty

Excellent commentary, Apocalypse Cow. I couldn't have said it better myself. It just occurred to me that a friend of mine is writing a dissertation about obesity in America, as part of her endeavor to get a Master's degree. If memory serves, part of it has to do with the way the media refers to an "obesity epidemic." So some good will come from this study about "socially contagious" obesity; Clare will have more to write about.

Just think of how many stereotypes exist about obesity. It's supposedly indicative of a lack of moral fiber, stupidity and laziness. These depictions in popular culture are pretty common, and those who complain about them are considered overly-sensitive. I have a fantastic sense of humor and don't really have a problem with fat jokes. But this New England Journal of Medicine study is different from Eddie Murphy in a fat suit, or Monty Python's exploding obese bastard. As I mentioned in my last post, one of the scientists involved in the study said (on CNN) that he didn't want to stigmatize or socially isolate obese people. Then in the very next sentence he stated that having fat friends "normalizes" obesity and will cause weight gain. He went on to say that even if you don't have fat friends directly, fat friends in your social circle (a friend of a friend) can lead to the aforementioned normalization and increase your weight. In a society that celebrates youth and thinness and attacks fat people as dumb gluttons, I can't think of a better way to socially isolate and stigmatize than to say what he did. The fact that it was a peer-reviewed study provides a patina of respectability to the poorly drawn conclusions, which are mostly made by lay people who hear or read about the study but never actually read it themselves.

There's nothing good about being obese. My brother and I have been that way all our lives. And it really pisses me off when people diminish our stuggle. Eat less and exercise is what I hear and read. Writer Betsy Hart of the Scripps Howard News Service puts it this way, "[obesity is] about a generation of us who just can't say no to anything, including food. But it's becoming increasingly clear that it's also very much about a food culture that feeds that lust, pun intended." The myth is embraced and even celebrated. Given the abject misery that obesity causes, if losing weight was an easy thing we would have done it a long time ago. I can't speak for myself, but my brother is extremely intelligent and a very hard-worker. He also has a strong will and when he is determined to do something, it gets done. Back in the day he played and taught tennis. Hours and hours of hard work and dedication paid off...he was outstanding. He even went to a high-priced tennis camp in Vermont and stood out in the crowd. He also used to be a chef. When he realized that there was no real future in it, and that the work-to-pay ratio didn't add up, he went to school and learned about computers. The result of that was a considerable increase in his quality of life. He knows how to put himself into something totally, and is a thoughtful, hard working fellow.

My point is that he has the desire to lose weight, and his abilities are considerable. Yet he struggles with obesity. The advice to "eat less and exercise" is a cruel and dismissive insult. But people never pass on an opportunity to feel superior to others. I do it, too. Like Apocalypse Cow, I look down on southerners, too. But that's different. I've been down south many times, and those people are really twisted, in general. Ha!

I don't mean to go on a rant here, but I feel compelled to mention that "overweight" and "obese" are terms used in the media as if they were synonymous. They aren't. I sometimes hear the figure that 2/3's of Americans are obese or overweight. That includes people who are 5 or 10 pounds over. The social stigma attached to obesity, as well as the pathology that causes it, is very different than having a few extra pounds. For one, the "ideal" weight, as defined by doctors, is somewhat arbitrary. Ten pounds above your ideal weight does not have any concrete negative health impact. In a sense, overweight is an aesthetic judgment while "obese" is a more concrete clinical assessment.

Certainly, environment contributes greatly to obesity. But studies also show that "multiple genes" make the problem much more likely, and difficult to overcome, in some people. This may even be true in select populations, based on shared heredity. The recent obesity studies, and news stories, that have come out lately have revealed a sad truth about Americans. Not that we are weak gluttons that can't say no to cookies and cake, but that we are simple-minded and keen to judge others. I guess that's more fun than looking at the science and understanding that obesity is based on environmental, social and genetic factors. The deck is stacked against some of us.

As I mentioned before, the media stories about being fat have bothered me more than they should. I dropped out of high school simply to avoid gym class. I got my diploma by making a unique arrangement with the school. I'm not sure what my weight was back then, but I was "morbidly obese." I was treated like a punk for skipping PE, and only one teacher spoke to me about how my weight contributed to my truancy, and my desire to quit. Everyone else acted like it was a mystery why I acted the way I did. Now I realize that I should have stood up for myself and related my problem more openly. But those teachers who treated me like shit are not blameless. That's all past now, but the way I felt back then about how my body made my life so miserable is definitely contributing to my anxiety and self-loathing now. Even with all the weight I lost, I'm still fat. The thoughts of suicide, the self-harm and the isolation that have taken place in the past couple of weeks are connected with this "socially contagious" study. I just turned 35, and my weight loss surgery took almost 200 pounds off my body, yet the judgmental attitude and over-simplification of my plight still has fantastic emotional currency with me. It's like I'm back in high school, hiding in an empty classroom and reading, waiting for gym class to end.

Obese Pariah and Me Losing My Mind...Again

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.

Land Of Plenty

Finally got around to changing the picture. Now you see Frieda Kahlo's Broken Column, something she painted in the '40's, around the time she was having a lot of surgery on her spine. I was going to post a nude by photographer Milos Sadik, but I couldn't find it. When I do I'll put it up.

It's been a hard month for the fatties. First you have an obese woman played on the Silver Screen by John Travolta in a "fat suit." I don't hold it against him, as it is a strangely common thing these days for a slim actor to do. But it irks me, and I'm not sure why. Then in the last week came word that United HealthCare wants to "reward" clients for living healthy lifestyles. That's sounds super, but what it means is that smokers, the overweight and obese, police officers, rock climbers, etc. (anyone who emerges as a special risk on the actuarial tables) will be charged through the nose. Now this really pisses me off to no end, especially since a lot of people seem to think it's a good idea. On CNN yesterday, one fellow they asked naively spoke about how wonderful it is that financial incentives will exist to make people healthier. This is not a good thing. The government already takes care of the elderly, poor and disabled through Medicare. But that's not enough for America's private insurers. They want to price out anyone they can and cover people who basically only need check-ups and protection against the costs associated with catastrophic illnesses. These HMO's and insurance companies have shown again and again that they are too inefficient and unscrupulous to be allowed to provide such a necessary service. It's yet another indication of how we need national, socialized medicine. If you disagree, I'm sorry, but you're just not paying attention.

I'm most offended, however, by the recent study that refers to obesity as "socially contagious." And I know that I shouldn't be, but I am. It's a large study, and everyone involved with it is reputable. I just can't help seeing the irony of a consumer culture that collectively loathes/mocks those suffering from an eating disorder. We really are a fucked up society. Let's hope our attempts at spreading our "values" around the world fail, because those values indicate that we are 330 million people with myriad mental illnesses that need treating (body dysmorphic and narcissistic personality disorders, to name two). I'll just leave it at that. But it won't be long before insurance companies will want to know how fat your friends are. The letter is in the mail. I can see it now...

Dear Mr. Higginbottom,

Our operatives couldn't help but notice your recent inclination towards socializing with people of generous proportion. As a result, we're going to have to request that you establish monthly appointments with your physician so that we may better monitor wellness trends in your lifestyle. Failure to do so will result in an automatic increase in your premium.

Oh, and the stock market just closed at -300 points or so. And on my birthday, no less! Sweet.

Flight of the Conchords

I just discovered the show, "Flight of the Conchords" on HBO and fucking loved it. Just, wow, man. So good. It raised the philosophical question, "Is it gay if I put a wig on my friend and pretend he's a woman and have sex with him when he's asleep?"