This week I plan on focusing my posts on something that hit
me really hard last week.
The single one event that actually inspired me to begin this
blog is: The Biggest Loser.
The Biggest Loser…
the TV reality/game show that contestants go on to lose weight and ultimately
try to become the “biggest loser” by losing the highest percentage of weight.
The prize for winning is $250,000 and the obvious fame and following that comes
with winning a game show. I have tons and tons and tons of respect for this
show and it holds a very dear spot in my heart because it was the catalyst that
inspired Erin and I to begin out weight loss journey.
However… this past season’s winner has provided me the
perfect opportunity and a good reference to explain my story.
I will begin by providing the link to the article that I
will be referencing.
This past season has finally revealed the dark side of
weight loss. When someone takes it too far. Now before I really begin I will
say that I have no idea if the winning contestant actually suffers from an
eating disorder at all… however by looking at her… she does not appear to be
healthy. She may be. But who knows. Regardless I feel like we need to take this
time to talk about what happens when it is taken too far. You hate to see this
happen to anybody however, it may be good that someone in the national spotlight
can be used to show what not to do. I think the most important aspect of this situation
that needs to be talked about it the mental side. Which is what I plan on
focusing on this week. Please take some time to read the article because it is
a very accurate representation of what can go on inside someone’s head who
suffers from a situation like this. Here’s my story, Which I have decided to
break up into two parts.
Part-One: The mental part of growing up as the fat kid.
Part-Two (Tomorrow): The mental part of weight loss.
Growing up I was always overweight. From 1st
grade through college. I am not sure how it affected anybody else but for me I
can say that it was something that haunted me everyday. I hated it. I hated how
I looked. I hated how others treated me. My name is Matt… which unfortunately
rhymes with Fat. So naturally it became a common nickname and what really
sucked was it was true. I hated being fat. I hated that it kept me from doing
things I wanted to do. All my friends played travel soccer. Unfortunately for
me once I reached a certain age (13ish) my weight and lack of fitness began to
hold me back from doing many things. I was always good at sports too… just couldn’t
keep up with anyone. Sticking to the sports thing for a second many people
asked me why I never played football? Well to be perfectly honest I did look
into it one year. I think was like 12 or something. I found the sign up sheet
and went to sign up and read the rules. Weight Limit for my age group… 140lbs.
I was well over 150 at that point. So there I was… too fat to play football.
The one sport where being a big kid can play to your advantage. Self esteem?...
gone. So I couldn’t play soccer, couldn’t play football, basketball was
beginning to be too fast-paced for me… so I tried to stick to individual sports
like tennis or golf. I was really good at tennis. But once again I got to the
point where my weight and fitness hindered my full potential. So I quit. I tried
to be a skateboarder because it was the cool thing to do. Always sucked at
skateboarding. Can’t do too many tricks when you cant jump that high. I tried
really hard to be a surfer as well. I could longboard without any problems. But
once the waves became big… couldn’t do it. I hated being fat. Outside of sports
things sucked too. Shopping for clothes was awful. As a kid wearing “husky”
pants was embarrassing. Trying to fit in with the “trends” sucked. Surf brands
love to make everything slim cut. Bad news for me. Socially it sucked as well. Every
single time I ever met anyone the first thing that went through my head was “He/She
thinks im fat”. I always felt like I was inferior for this reason. I felt like
people viewed me as sloppy, lazy, and didn’t care about myself. I always felt
sub-par and even if I was better at something then someone else… I would be
judged and looked down upon and ultimately picked over for being overweight.
Going to a pool party or the beach was my worst nightmare. If I was not wearing
a shirt at the beach or a pool the only thing I could think about was people
looking at me. It sucked. All these things shaped my outward personality as
well. I always tried to be the funny/sarcastic kid and tried to get people to
laugh so they would like me. I would find myself doing things I know I shouldn’t
do or being a jerk to people because it was “funny” or it impressed a friend.
Another thing that stung down deep was how people(mostly
adults/family friends) would address my fatness in a nice way. I cant tell you
how many times I would hear “MAN! Look at him he’s growing up to be a big
strong kid!” or even just when people would address me as “big guy” “strong kid”
“built like a horse” or whatever. I wasn’t stupid. Those are the polite ways to
address someone’s fatness. And those I think hurt worse then dumb kids calling
me “fat matt”… atleast they didn’t beat around the bush!
The most ironic thing about growing up dealing with all this
was it just caused me to eat more. You would think all the pain and anxiety and
crap it caused me, I would do something about it right? Wayyyyyy easier said
then done. Food was my go to for comfort. I would lie in my bed dreaming of
being skinny and what it might feel like wishing I could literally take a knife
and cut my stomach off …. And then go down stairs when my parents would go
somewhere and binge out on anything I could find. Then I would go back up to my
room and hate myself for my recent binge, and repeat the process.
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