- 5 years ago
- Wedding: September 2014
Dear Intrusive, Clueless Female In My Personal Life,
This letter is in regard to your recent post on my Facebook picture. On it, you commented “please go eat a cheeseburger.” You must have realized you said something that may have been unwanted, since immediately after it you commented “you’re totally gorgeous, though!” While I can appreciate the sentiment and your interest in my dietary life (/sarcasm), here is why I really don’t appreciate your commentary:
“Go eat a cheeseburger”? I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you are not aware exactly how many cheeseburgers I used to eat on a daily basis. In high school, I was a loser with an absentee, alcoholic/addict mom, a dying dad and a stepmom that wished I would choke. In order to cope with such a lovely life situation, I began eating every single solitary feeling I ever had. I would secretly go to McDonalds and get 2 Big Macs, 2 Southern Chicken Sandwiches and a large fry and 2 large cokes, and eat every bit of it. Sometimes I’d get mad at myself and throw it up, but usually I’d just wallow in self-pity until I got hungry again or dinner was ready. This went on every day for years, and because of that my weight skyrocketed.
As you can imagine, my ballooning size did not help things in my social life: the kids the tortured me for being a nerdy weirdo hit the bully jackpot since I now was a nerdy FAT weirdo. I left school crying most days and to make myself feel better, would eat McDonalds. McDonalds didnt judge me. Cheeseburgers didnt make fun of me. The food filled the void in me that life was creating.
Before long I was obese and pre-diabetic. A kind and compassionate physicians assistant intervened at an appointment and helped to get my weight back on track. The plan seemed simple, but it’s execution was anything but: food had become my only friend, and losing it made me depressed beyond what I can explain. I felt suicidal, lonely and worthless and didnt understand what my purpose on this earth could possibly be. I had to be put on several anti-depressent and anti-anxiety meds that not only made me bloated but made my hair fall out as well.
The task of losing weight and getting my health in order has been nothing short of monumental. Every single day I struggle with food and the desire to start binge-eating again is always there. I have busted my ass to make myself the healthy person I am today.
So, while I perceive and understand your oh-so-eloquent “go eat a cheeseburger” comment has alot more to do with your own weight than mine, next time try thinking before you speak: I may be “skinny” and “pretty” now, but on the inside I’m probably alot like you: insecure and struggling.