Fatness isn't inherently bad. 

       I felt like I needed to say this, especially after all I've learned losing weight this last year. It's been a long, difficult journey that's been peppered with self-loathing and dealing with my own internal biases. I've recently discovered fat activism and it's changed my perspective on weight loss as well as health. There's a lot to unpack there, but I'll come back to it.

       In early 2018, I had a conversation with one of my doctors about my chronic pain condition, Fibromyalgia. She suggested that if I simply lost weight, I'd feel less pain. But I knew that wasn't right. Two years prior to that conversation, I weighed 70lbs less and was in the worst pain of my life. It was then that I was diagnosed. The extra weight had piled on from medications and being housebound because of the condition.  Still, this doctor insisted it would work and refused me other care options until I lost weight.

       I was enraged. Logically, her argument didn't make sense to me because I knew what my pain felt like at that lower weight. The fact that she didn't believe I knew my own body was so infuriating that I decided to do something about it. I would do as she asked, I would play by the medical system's rules, only so I could prove a point and finally be taken seriously for my pain.

       Losing weight was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Calorie counting is not easy, even though I made it seem that way in some of my earlier posts. I struggled, I cried, and I did feel like I was starving myself regularly. But, after 6 months of dieting, I lost a significant amount of weight. Guess what happened? My pain increased tenfold, just like I knew it would.

       That terrible chat with that biased doctor had broken me, and I put myself through hell to prove a stupid point. I never returned to see that specific physician (she was an unnecessary addition to my medical team at a time when my pain clinic had a discount on private care). Unfortunately, the damage her comments and suggestions made is still ongoing. I wrecked my metabolism just to access better care. The anti-fat bias doctors possess, that we all possess, has hurt me and will continue to hurt others until we make changes.

       As I said before, I discovered fat activism this year. There are some lovely people out there trying to make a difference and getting people to acknowledge their own biases. Here are a few awesome peeps on Twitter for you to follow:

• @meghantonjes
• @comfyfat
• @fatgirlfreedom
• @yrfatfriend

       Your Fat Friend also writes wonderful essays on Medium about the anti-fat bias that are really worth a look: How Healthcare Bias Harms Fat People. If you want more information, Your Fat Friend and the others I listed above are great resources and it's better to hear it from their point of view rather than myself as I am now a small fat after my weight loss.

       Anyways, if you would like my perspective: I think the main point of this cause is to get us to recognize our own biases and deal with them to hopefully stop demonizing fatness and fat people. It's not an easy task; many of us, even fat people themselves, harbour this extreme negativity towards fatness. We've internalized these biased views of society and for many of us who are or were fat, we've turned against ourselves because of it. I know I hated myself whenever I looked in the mirror, ever since I hit puberty. Even when I wasn't fat by any standard (age 10 or 11), I hated any bit of fatness on my body. When I did gain massive amounts of weight, I still looked the same in my eyes. I had always been fat, I was always going to be fat. When I did set out to lose the weight, it came from a place of self-loathing and I shamed myself through the entire experience.

       Even after I lost 50lbs, I still harboured those feelings. But you know what happened? Being thinner, and fitting into straight sizes (S-L, 0-14), made me feel beautiful and acceptable. It made me feel like I was better than people who were bigger than me, and that's terrible! This right here is my anti-fat bias at work. I'm not better than them and I can't let my bias make me think this kind of discrimination is okay.

       It takes a lot of self-talk and head-work to stop these internal judgements. Still, it must be done because I don't want my biases reflected in my actions. I don't want to treat people poorly, even subconsciously, because of their size. I know how awful it is to experience this kind of prejudice, and it's something that will take a lot of effort to eliminate from society. Anti-fat bias, in particular, is very tricky to root out because it's propped up by the medical system.

       Society insidiously imprints us with this negativity against fatness and fat people by using numbers under the guise of science to make the hatred seem okay. Clinically, I'm still 'obese' at a BMI of 32, down from 41 this time last year. Now, that word itself is not neutral and is often thrown around as a hateful term. I use it only to reference the specific medical measurements that have helped fuel society's hatred of fatness.

       The Body Mass Index is a strange scale that assigns numbers to determine what your 'healthy' weight is for your height. 'Overweight' starts at 25, 'obese' starts at 30 and 'morbidly obese' begins at 35. It's a simple mathematical equation to find out where you land, but it doesn't make sense. BMI doesn't account for muscle mass which means big burly athletes with no fat can be considered obese. It was also based on average weights during the early 1900s when food was not nearly as plentiful as it is now and people regularly starved themselves out of necessity. So, of course, you might be thinking, "Why haven't they updated the standard then?" Well, that's a good question with an unfortunate answer. The reason no one has updated the formula is that using the BMI scale simply conforms with our already existing biases against fatness. Why change something that helps confirm what society already believes?

Because hatred on a grand scale is wrong.

-Dana.


Have you ever felt medical professionals were biased against you because of your weight? Did you ever struggle with self-loathing because of your weight or your internal biases? Let me know in the comments down below!

Today, I turn 24 years-old. Today, I made some choices about my future.

For a long time now, I've been coasting. I'm not really pushing myself. I'm not striving to achieve anything. My chronic pain condition (see: Fibromyalgia) has really been holding me back. I can't work, I can barely sleep and I've really let myself go while trying desperately to maintain my pain levels. This stops today.

I've set myself some goals for the following year. These are targets that I've wanted to make progress towards for a long time. Things I've put off for years. I hope to achieve some or even all of these by my 25th birthday.

Before Age 25 I Want To:

• Lose Weight 
• Clear up my Acne
• Finish Writing a Full-length Novel

What on earth am I supposed to do with myself?

I'm asking honestly here. My partner and I haven't been apart for more than three days prior to this and him being gone six days for a conference seems like an eternity. We aren't very co-dependent, we tend to do our own things, but generally we're just around each other or in the same space when we're both home. My schedule also tends to revolve around his since I don't work much due to my illness. I go to bed when he goes to bed, I wake up when he wakes up (maybe I go back to sleep after, but he's like my first alarm for the day. I know it's morning when he's up and moving.), and I plan to eat/make dinner around when he gets home from work. While I'm super excited that he gets to go abroad for this conference (all the way to Sweden no less!), I'm also a bit beside myself as I have no idea what this next week is going to look like.

Kissing him goodbye this morning was surreal and I felt nervous. I'm going to miss him and worry about him like crazy, but this is something I should get used to doing. He may have to go on more business trips as time goes on. For now, I'll just settle in and do things on...my schedule? Ugh, that sounds weird. I'll just keep busy by watching dramas I need to catch up on and working on my partner's crafty Christmas present.

And yes, Netflix, I'm still awake. Please play the next episode, I'm trying to see how many it takes until this week is over.

Dana~


"Have you ever struggled being apart from your significant other? Do you like it when they go away on business/personal trips? Do you go with them every time they travel? Leave me a comment below!"

I thought receiving a diagnosis was an achievement in and of itself. I thought everything that came next couldn't be as bad. The logic was, "If I know what's wrong with me, I know what I can do to help fix it." I never counted on my illness begin incurable. Modern medicine is so advanced that we've made AIDS treatable to the point that it's very unlikely to die from it anymore; so in my mind there shouldn't be many incurable illnesses left. Turns out, not only was I wrong, but I was being very naive.

Fibromyalgia is what I was diagnosed with recently after decade of searching for answers. It is a chronic pain condition that causes widespread pain throughout my body as well as sleep problems, sensitivity to high/low temperatures, muscle spasms, overactive nerves, bad joints, fatigue and many other issues. Basically, I can't walk very far or stand for very long and using my joints for prolonged periods of time can cause serious problems. On my bad days, I end up confined to bed rest. Even on my good days, I can really only tackle a couple short tasks or run one errand without causing a painful flare for the rest of the week.

While knowledge is power and knowing what caused all these problems helped me, I didn't realize how limited my treatment options were. Exercise is usually the blanket, throw-away advice from doctors and rheumatologists. However, it only seems to help a small portion of fibro patients improve, for some it can make the pain much worse. I, unfortunately, ended up in the latter group. As I continued my research post-diagnosis, I found that there was very little new information on treatment. "Pain management" was a term used most often, talking about how to learn to live with the pain. It also seemed that there was very little research going on about how to cure fibromyalgia patients and most efforts seemed focused on just dealing with the pain. Learning this broke my heart. They weren't trying to make us better, they just wanted us to complain less and do more. (Shut up and be useful.) This kind of thinking is not helpful for the patients who just want to be better, who want to eventually be pain-free. For now, we accept that pain-free may not happen, but we need to hope it is a possibility. Hope is all we have.

Around this time, I heard the phrase, "Fibro won't kill you, but you'll suffer every day until you die of old age." While that isn't the greatest outlook to have, as a person with this disease I feel like it still rings true. Fibromyalgia as it stands is a life sentence of pain, insomnia, and the inability to complete basic daily tasks. Like many fibro sufferers, I can't work. Since my wrists lock up, it makes it hard to drive a car or use a computer for long periods of time. Working retail or any other minimum wage job that would have me on my feet most of the day also wouldn't work as I usually can't walk or stand for longer than five minutes at a time. The only other choice is working as a call center employee, but with the emotional toll that can take on a person's mental health, it's extra dangerous for a fibro patient to take on that kind of work. This is because fibromyalgia patients have a suicide rate 10 times higher than the general population [1][2]. The cause for the high suicide rate is split between the fact that fibromyalgia cause severe depression due to pain levels and the anti-depressants with suicidal side effects often prescribed to fibro patients to treat their pain.

Speaking of treating the pain with prescriptions, there aren't many options in that department either. Anti-depressants are usually prescribed as fibro patients often present as severely depressed and many doctor's believe the pain to be psychological. (It's all in our heads! No.) There are some pills that some patients have had limited success with such as Lyrica and Gabapentin, but, like exercise, they only seem to work for a small portion of sufferers. Many fibromyalgia patients then go on to rely on opioid prescriptions like Tramadol to make it through the day. The problem there is that with the number of overdose and addiction victims rising, doctors have been taking away valid opioid prescriptions from non-addicted chronic pain patients [3][4][5]. This leads to loss of function and increased pain flares for patients who had returned to almost full function. Unfortunately, this problem is not being addressed as the chronic pain community doesn't seem to have a voice loud enough to be heard over the shouting about overdose deaths.

Therefore, fibromyalgia patients find themselves in quite a bind. We can't work, and sometimes even taking care of ourselves is too much. Adding onto the fact that there just isn't enough research being done to cure us and chronic pain patients losing access to their prescriptions, we can easily start to feel like we've been imprisoned in our own bodies. I continue my own research and participating in fibromyalgia communities in the hope that I can find ways to ease the pain and break free of this life sentence.

Dana~


"Do you suffer with chronic pain? What's your biggest hurdle? What treatment have you found to be the most helpful? Let me know in the comments below."