Because, really, screw health issues.
Feb. 6th, 2013 07:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
railentheANNOYING DAY OF HEALTH STUFFS.
1) Up five pounds. My reaction: BLAH
2) Found out Marilyn Monroe, THE standard, was a size 14. My Reaction: feeling less paranoid.
3) Find out I have no idea if I'm eating too much or not enough for my activity level. Reaction: *runs around punching air and generally going "RRRGH!"
4) Take measurements and find out that my body fat percentage is right outside the 'athletic' range at 24%. Reaction: *lost*but the BMI (which is admittedly NOISE) has me at obese still.
This, friends, was my day.
I woke up and busted the hell out of my leg—again—and decided “Screw it, I’m not really doing much of anything today.” I got up and had a late lunch/breakfast of fruit, cheese, and summer sausage, did some pushups, did nothing else really, logged food, and—as the stuff above proves—obsessed over numbers.
Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if I’d have this problem if I was a guy. Constantly checking the scale, counting every calorie, obsessing over whether or not the fact that I moved a piece of furniture should count as workout minutes.
I’ll admit it—this is unhealthy.
I’m back to where I was in high school—obsessed over every little thing like when my grandmother convinced me that, at 110 lbs, I was a fat cow.
I shudder to think of what she’d say to me if she saw me here at 165lbs.
I hate being obsessed with these numbers.
But they were being foisted at me as recently as a week ago, when I went in for my crap knee and was told—again—by my doctor that he was concerned about the 50 lbs I’ve gained in the last five years.
If you look in my closets, you won’t find uniforms of any sort—cheerleader, band, formal server—nothing like that. I don’t have a series of dresses that I’d like to get back into. I don’t have anyone I’m trying to impress. Or trying to prove something to.
And that is why the fact that obsessively measuring every crumb, every gram of sugar, every little bit of fat that goes into my system, is so incomprehensible to me. I keep doing this and yet I don’t really have a reason to.
It is infuriating.
It is frustrating.
And I can’t stop.
I’m backsliding.
And it’s going to take a while to work through it.
Now I’m going to do a few things that don’t involve thinking about weight, or body parts, or numbers.
Because if I don’t I’m going to give myself a splitting headache.
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no subject
Date: 2013-02-07 08:33 pm (UTC)But one thing is for sure:
THE WOMAN
WAS NOT
A STICK.
Being comfortable with your own weight is not helped at all by society as everyone has standards and will be gratuitously nitpicky if they aren't met. One of my childhood friends used to be on the plump side whilst I was skinny (this was a LONG time ago) and so she went on a diet and sure enough lost the weight - the problem was that once she did she got on MY CASE for being pudgy (this was before I was legit pudgy and I was still thinner than she'd been when she was on the doughy side) aaaaaaaaaaaand eating with her was no longer fun. But the thing is that if you take what other people think out of it - it's really not as much of a big deal. (I do of course understand watching weight out of health and clothes size concerns but for the sake of argument let's go with it just being the society perception issue.) I've been fat and I've been thin. Honestly didn't really notice much difference. But what recently made me roll my eyes was when an acquaintance commented on how great I looked and asked if I'd been on a diet. I was exactly the same as I was the last time I saw them. Since then I've decided not to care what other people say or think about my weight since they're hardly reliable when it comes to that. I'm going to try working out a bit just so my trousers don't fit as snugly but otherwise I'm not all that bothered about my skeleton of a father saying I am a humongous blubber mountain and that I resemble my obese cousin. So I'm pudgy. Does that make me any different as a person?
(And yet ironically I get annoyed when people say Mont is fat... I guess I just get sensitive about people insulting my cat - I'm fun if she's got a bit of bulk since it means she's eating well and healthy.)
I don't have a slow clap so this will have to do
Date: 2013-02-08 01:53 am (UTC)The scans that my doctor have me in for are cholesterol (well yeah) and obesity.
OBESITY?
You're going to order a scan like this without any actual discussion about it? You're going to do me like that, doc? You're SERIOUSLY going to declare a problem and not even tell me about it?
What the fuck.
Frankly I've never been more tempted to declare "fuck it" and just down the entire pantry in a go, but THAT WOULD KILL ME AND I NOW AM RATHER FOND OF BEING ALIVE.
So instead I will just sort of seethe.
(And today's stick figures. WHAT THE FUCK. <3 Marilyn!)
no subject
Date: 2013-02-08 12:34 pm (UTC)*facepalm*
Another problem is that the standards are based on certain body types - most of the women who were pin-ups in the 30s-50s weren't as tall as the models we have today so of course the BMIs were different and it appears as though women have got thinner over the years when really taller women just became in vogue. If a 5'0 girl is the same weight as a 6'0 girl then of course the shorter girl will look fatter by comparison. The fashion industry prefers taller and thinner women not because they necessarily look better but simply because they lack a distinct form to get in the way of the clothes so they make better bases than a girl with contours on her.
But when you're an adolescent you're not really taught about BMIs and how height is a factor in there - you're just told you look pudgy and you must work to fix it or else you fail as a human being. The pressure that is put on teenage girls to either starve or flog themselves to death in pursuit of the perfect body is heartbreaking especially as they can not only risk hampering their development but also dance with death. (I remember reading about one case of a 18 year old who wanted to keep herself thin enough to resemble a 12 year old and said she was glad she didn't have periods and would only regain weight when she wanted children, convinced she could just turn the periods back on. To be honest I'd rather be fat and miserable during period season and keep my fertility chances than dangerously thin and quite likely destroying my chance of having children.)
no subject
Date: 2013-02-09 06:57 am (UTC)Also, this is my face when BMI comes up:
BMI also doesn't take into account the athletic framed person. I work in housekeeping, which means quite a bit of lifting (So yes, I even lift) and which means that I have a lot of muscle located under an admitted layer of soft puff. Heck, I GAINED a bunch of weight during my best performance at DDR unofficials--I wore short shorts because I had iron thighs that would pop seams if I flexed my legs for a jump! It's happened at work! (Small waist, Medium legs) (I miss jumping. *glares at knee*)
ALSO...
Date: 2013-02-08 04:49 pm (UTC)If you look at her post 1946 you start to notice her weight yo-yoing all over the place - one moment she's plump, the next a stick that looks as though it'll snap. The reason for this was a combination of an uneven diet and amphetamines - during her youth the studio she was under contract to wanted her to match their standards of beauty and kept demanding she slimmed down and amphetamines were at the time a popular diet pill since they served as an appetite suppressant as well as a pep pill. Since she was a very short girl of 4'11 she had to work extra hard to look thin on camera and to make sure she stayed slim the studio commissary was under orders to only serve her chicken broth. (There's an interview from the 60s where someone asks her what she misses from her childhood. Her response? "EATING!") Of course the amphetamines famously led to a chemical dependency that led to several breakdowns, one of which resulted in Garland staying in a sanitarium and being prescribed a 9PM bedtime and 3 square meals a day. Once she was out of there she was sent back to work and told by the execs that she'd gained a lot of weight that needed to be lost. Her weight at the time? ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE POUNDS.
That's a 21.2 BMI according to the calculator.
It's no wonder the woman had terrible self-esteem issues and abysmal health throughout her life!
And the sad thing is that when she was thin she didn't look good - she looked scarily unhealthy. (Her legs spook me because they should not be that thin! Why don't they have any fat on them!?) Sure she didn't look fantastic when she was overweight but at least you don't get that horrible sense that she should go to the hospital when you watch her.
Which is yet another reason I've decided I'd much rather be a fat ass than have no ass to sit on at all. *nods*
WAT ASS
Date: 2013-02-09 07:04 am (UTC)The more you dish the truth at me the more I realize this is seriously fucked up. (I mean, I'm five one ROUNDING UP, and I know that's a bit of weight, but, dude, black people are mostly muscle usually, and I've been taking exquisite pains to keep it that way--I LOVE being able to lift things the rest of the staff can't.)