Paradox busting time

Brought to you by the kind and unknowing support and inspiration of The Militant Baker (check out her blog. No, really. Do it.)

I am so tired of this crap. So frustrated with people around me going on and on about MY body, as if they have some obligation to point fingers at me, telling me that I should be, to quote Louis CK, "less people." Their favorite reason for trying to "help" is the health benefits they seem to find in restricting my life and the way I live it.

I wonder if these people know that they are in fact spouting nonsense and clichés?

I will not try to write a summary of my thoughts. Instead I will quote my source at the Militant Baker, because she summarizes in one paragraph what I would most likely take page upon page to try and put words to.

Everything you know about fat and health is wrong. Fat people are more likely to survive cardiac events and outlive thin people. Fat can protect against cancer, heart disease, anemia, and type 2 diabetes. Yes, diabetes. You can't make a fat person thin and you can't make a thin person fat. Eating garbage and being obese are not the same thing. No one has proven that fat people eat more and exercise less than thin people. Fat people can eat perfectly balanced meals and exercise and still be fat. And thin people can eat junk food all day and sit around and still be thin. Diets don't work. They just don't. Dieting doesn't make you healthy; it makes you sick.  And you do realize that a shit ton of research about obesity is funded by weight loss companies, right?

And look at that, it even includes helpful links.


In addition, I would like for people to stop the diet talk. I am not interested in ANY of the dozens of diets out there. I am not interested in your results or how much weight you've lost, and I am absolutely not interested in joining any diets or cult/program/organization whose sole purpose is to tell me I suck the way I am. Talking about dieting in a room full of other individuals is inconsiderate and disrespectful. You don't know if anyone around you have or has had an eating disorder that you are triggering. You can't know if there's someone around you struggling with low self esteem or self-hate. You have no right to be "helpful" to someone who doesn't follow your standard.

I am not saying "Don't be on a diet". That is entirely your choice. I am saying "I don't want to hear about it. I won't be joining it."

I love food. Real food. Good food. Not powders mixed with water. Not "power bars" that taste like Styrofoam and saw dust. Real food, cooked with real ingredients. I don't understand fasting and cleansing. I don't get the whole depriving yourself deal (not anymore, at least. I used to do the Starve Yourself dance a few years ago). As long as I can have real yummy food, I am happy. And happiness is the best feeling.

Sochi 2014

Normally, I would try to not turn this blog into a political statement, because politics makes me angry and frustrated and those feelings slow my mental healing down to a crawl. However, when it comes to the combination of the Olympic Games and open discrimination, I feel that there needs to be a statement made.

The original Olympic Games started as a way to honor the gods living on Mount Olympos and to stop the endless wars between the Hellenic city states.

The modern Olympic Games are held to show that politics have no room in sports. Hitler tried to make the Games in Berlin into a political statement, and he failed. Now the Games are being held in another country that openly persecute the citizens of said country, and put restrictions on the athletes participating. Not even Hitler tried to ban athletes from participating, even though said athletes had characteristics the Nazi party didn't approve of. Why should Putin get away with something not even Hitler dared doing?

Even if I owned a TV, I would not watch these Olympic games, and I ask people to boycott both the games and the companies sponsoring the games. We have the power to show the world that discrimination isn't accepted. Let's embrace tis power and once more hoist the colors.

Here is a petition you can sign and here is a list of companies to avoid.

For people living in Sweden, I would also recommend avoiding watching any TV station that has bought time at the games, most notably SVT1, SVT2, and TV4 (same owners).

"Everyone has the right to life, liberty and security of person." - Article 3, The Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

Our digital age

Just a few minutes ago I got linked a Letter To The Editor about how our digital world is ruining society. The text is in Swedish but I linked it anyway, because it's interesting (and you can try to run it through Translate, if you want to).

Basically, the guy points out that computers and the likes are running our world, and if they should fail, we'll be stranded. Therefore, we should "close down the Internet" and go back to using analogue watches and technical things.

While I agree with many of the points he makes, the main part of the post, that humans should return to a pre-Internet time, I find to be a bit silly. Let me explain before you explode, okay?

I was born in the mid-1980's, which means I was there when cassette recorders, VCRs, and non-digital toys were the things you used. We even played outside without having to be banned from the screen first.  *legasp*
I was 10 when I used a computer for the first time, and that was in school.
I was 12 years old when my family got a computer for the first time.

I am still not used to seeing small kids with iPads and smartphones instead of skip ropes and tennis balls. Both children and their parents are afraid of the kids getting scraped, bruised, or dirty while playing outside. When I was a kid, I had scrapes and bruises all over my arms and legs from the moment the snow melted till it came back. Mom can tell you how long it took me to get absolutely covered in dirt, leaves, and grit after I went outside.

I nearly pissed myself laughing when the computers went out at the grocery store close to where I live. People just stood there, about as confused as sheep on a road, all because they couldn't pay with their credit cards. Being used to paying with cash, I just asked a clerk to check if the ATM was working, and when he got back and said it did, I left my groceries by the cash register, went to the ATM, got cash, payed for my groceries, and went home. When I left, the queues to the registers were over 20 people long and everyone was complaining about not being able to pay. The ATM was 60 feet from the registers.

Last week, the power went out in the building I sit in and the computers died. People actually got angry, and bored. The power was gone for less than an hour (I was too lazy to check the time XD). To me, it was a perfect opportunity to take a nap, but the angry voices sifting through the walls kind of ruined it for me.

The Internet has an added benefit in letting us connect to people all over the globe. I can talk to friends in Las Vegas in real time without ruining my budget. I can crack jokes with friends in Tacoma and Minot without having to wait for letters that may or may not reach their destination.

I think many people fear the power of the Web because they do not realize that the physical world and the Internet no longer are separate. Anonymity is nice and all, but ANYTHING you post on the web, be it social networks, blogs, or in e-mails, can be accessed at any time by anyone who knows how. The only way to keep your information safe is to NOT POST IT. EVER. If you can't say something about or to someone in the physical world, what makes you think it's ok to say it online?

A computer is a tool, not a part of your body. I love my computer, but if you take it away from me and tell me that I can't use it for a month, I'll just burrow into a blanket with a cup of coffee and a good book. If you touch my books, I will kill you. :D

2013

I started this blog in July of 2013 as a means to reflect over things that happens and have happened in my life. I started out with the intention to write mainly for my own benefit, but it quickly became an obligation and I stopped writing for a while.

After reviewing and pondering the reasons as to why I write, I came back and now I only write when I want and/or need to.

This post will be a reflection on the past year (I know it's somewhat late, but I've felt like crap and things have happened, things I might or might not write about in the future). Don't be alarmed, I'll keep it short...ish.

Let's boogie.


2013 started off OK. I got several grades back from my history classes and I passed all of them with banners held high. I had hopes that I would manage to get to the 2/3 mark of my bachelor's degree done before Spring would turn into Summer and getting the highest grade possible on my projects really elevated my mood. Towards the end of January I also started an internship at the Salvation Army second-hand store. (Please wait with your comments until I'm done, 'kay? 'Kay.)
Let me just say that three things about this period in my life.

1. Don't shop at the Salvation Army stores. They treat people like crap and their size-ism is not only unchecked, it's disgustingly rampant.

2. Full time studies and 3/4 time work might be the vanilla bean chocolate cake for some, but believe me, it will not last. Not unless you have no need for sleep, food, or time to wind down.

3. You can meet brilliant people at the most unexpected places. The person who got assigned to show me the ropes turned out to be one of the funniest, kindest, smartest, and all-round amazing people I have ever met. We both left the store last year and ended up at the same place again. (That sentence turned out weird, but I don't know how change it. Any ideas?)

During the first weekend of March, my mind and body had finally had enough abuse and decided to shut down completely. I remember spending the better part of that Saturday on the floor, crying my eyes out. On the Monday, I went to the doctor's office and got assigned two weeks sick leave. At this point, I wasn't coherent, and I was shaking like I had just crawled naked out of a snow pile (I don't recommend this, so don't try running around naked in snow. Well, I was wearing a t-shirt and underwear, but my point still stands). I went to the store from the doctor's office and told the people there that I wouldn't be back for a while.

Two weeks turned into six weeks before I was strong enough to get myself and my messed up mind on my feet and out the door. I had had a lot of time to think during this time and I figured out that my distress, depression, and social phobia all stemmed from my puberty and the relentless bullying I had been subjected to. I also figured out that trying to prove my worth to others would no longer fly and I started to change things in my life.

Mid-May I was overly tired of being on edge and jumpy, so I asked my doctor if I would benefit from anti-depressants. May 11 I took my first dose of Sertraline and I haven't regretted it for a second. Now I'm on venlafaxine because the sertraline didn't work for me, but I'll get to that.

June began with a very relaxing trip to a spa, courtesy of my parents, who were celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. I sorely needed that trip, because the employment agency were messing up my case, misplacing papers, and "forgetting" things all the time. Because someone recovering from stress really needs more stress piled on... *sarcasm*
Towards the end of June, Boy, me, and my dad-in-law went to Boy's family's beach house for Midsummer's Eve. If you haven't experienced a traditional Midsummer celebration you've missed one of the best holidays EVER. Sure, the sky was grey and it rained on and off that whole day, but the view over the fiord was breath taking, the food was delicious and I had a great time.
June also saw me joining my friend at a photo archiving company, and I'm still here. It's a good place to be and the people here is just what I need.

In July I worked up the courage to ask my doctor about sterilization. He was surprised at first, but quickly realized that I was serious. I got a call in August about seeing a gynecologist at the end of September. I started the sterilization process on September 20.

Here I would like to make a small comment about the whole sterilization thing. I have NEVER wanted children. I do NOT see children in my future. I can see my sister's children coming to visit, but that's it. I do NOT want children. I have NEVER wanted children, and I am damn sure that I will NOT want children in the future. Telling me that I will regret this choice is not only disrespectful, it's rude, hurtful, and extremely condescending. I am fully capable to make decision about my own body, thank you very much.

Boy turned 28 in October and another argument with the public insurance company and the welfare office started. Why is it that public officials, who are payed to help you, seem to either be completely incompetent or behave like you're trying to steal their favorite toy?
During this time, I started to look at other aspects of my personality. I had pretty much managed to grind "advance notice, y'all!" into my parents head, and "self-care" was starting to become part of my passive and active vocabulary, so I felt it was time to take a look at other things. One of the major things was sexuality. I have always felt like I was pansexual (feeling sexual attraction towards people regardless of gender identity or expression), but it had always had an additional feeling of "Are you sure?". This is when I got linked to a page about asexuality and I had maybe the hundredth "A-HA!" moment of the year.

Now, I don't like labels. Labels are for mayo and clothes, not for people. It just makes life much easier to start with a label and work from there.

Asexuality didn't really fit, however, since I experience sexual attraction when it comes to Boy. I would say that I'm somewhere in between asexual and demisexual, but again, I'm not a huge fan of labels. I am just me, and that's enough.

My birthday came and went and I was happily surprised that people really remembered my gift wishes (I don't care about gifts, really. It's just very nice to know that people remember my wishes). The end of November also saw the escalation of the problems with the welfare office, and a change in medication for me. Said change in medication had the beneficial side-effect of making me not really care about the woman handling our case at the welfare office and her attempts to undermine our safety (this whole mess seems to have worked itself out, so I'm not worried anymore).

On December 16 I went to the hospital to undergo the sterilization surgery. This was the happiest and the most painful time I have experienced in a really really long time. Trust me, getting your uterus filled with water in order to make things easier to see for the surgeon is very very VERY painful. It was worse than any cramps I've ever had and the pain just didn't want to stop. Thankfully, they gave me some painkillers that worked so-so, and two hours after the surgery I was bored out of my mind. I was counting ticks on my heart monitor and messing around with the plastic thing on my finger to see the effect it would have on my heart rate, just to entertain myself. I was discharged four hours after the surgery and we went to my parents' house to celebrate my mom's birthday.

The end of the year was fairly uneventful, with the usual heap of food, gifts, scared-out-of-her-wits cat, and dinner with parents' and dad-in-law on New Year's Eve.

And with this I wish you a blessed year to come and many amazing experiences in the future.

I am not a number

I am a huge fan of The Militant Baker and I make no excuses for that. I read her blog every day, I follow the Militant Baker on Facebook, and I would be so extremely happy if I somehow could attend the Body Love Conference this year.

The Militant Baker introduced me to this astonishing concept of loving myself just the way I am. Of not defining my worth based on the scale or a tape measurer, but on the fact that I exist at all.

I got introduced to the concept of beauty. Real beauty. The kind of beauty all humans have. The kind of beauty that is not defined by clothe size or numbers on a scale.

Because all bodies are beautiful. ALL bodies are BEAUTIFUL. And all bodies deserve love.

Because of this, I have added Smashing The Scale as one of my three resolutions (the other two are based to lowering my dentist costs and cutting out foods I don't like, but still eat *epic eye roll*).

I am Smashing the Scale because I am tired of the shame and guilt associated with having a body like mine.

I am Smashing the Scale because I am finally reaching a point where I love myself and yet I crash and burn every time someone tries to police my body.

I am Smashing the Scale because being healthy just doesn't seem to be enough when one is overweight. I have no medical problems associated with my body, yet people in my immediate surroundings are still on me about losing weight. If my weight causes me physical illness, I will do something about it. Until then, sod off with your weight policing.

I am Smashing the Scale because I will never be a size 0 or a size 4 or even a size 10 and I am tired of feeling ugly because of it. I am also tired of watching other beautiful people getting harassed because of someone else's body hate.

I am Smashing the Scale because at 5'8" and 210 lbs I shouldn't have to feel like an ugly giant.

I am Smashing the Scale because I shouldn't have to prove my intelligence just because I'm not a "conventional" beauty.

I am Smashing the Scale because thick, thin, or somewhere in between, no one is allowed to make you hate yourself. No one should have to hear the phrase "They would be so beautiful if they only lost/gained a few pounds."

I am Smashing the Scale because I am me and no amount of body hate, weight policing, shame, guilt, or prejudice will change that. I am a large girl. I am tall, I am fat, and I am beautiful.