On being fat
I've been fat most of my life. When I turned six, mom left me at home with dad and grandma to go for english-learning adventure in Texas and El Paso, New Mexico, which was just before the marvelous and memorable start of grade one.
All the kids brought their new school bags to show off and fill them up with whatever was placed on our desks. Crayons and workbooks, gel pens and exercise books, ton of commercial pamphlets and a timetable... She complimented all the kids on these colorful fancy bags and I was like "I've got a plastic bag today. And I ain't going all the way back for my school bag, cuz it's far and I don't give a shit about how posh y'all are. But you can bet I'd win this competition with a margin." All the parents laughed but I knew my value.
However, the key thing about this new school was it's kitchen. Cause the chef was a star. I never knew about his budget or anything, but I could tell that his food came from fresh ingredients and was made with passion. And they always gave me extra when I asked. Sometimes even the meat. And I loved that and enjoyed it, which was the issue. Nobody cared that I was overeating and becoming circular in shape.
By grade two, I was overweight and after changing schools then, the other kids began with the remarks that make a kid feel insecure. I was the fatto. And in spite of my returned mom trying to help me fight it, it remained that way allthe way through primary, secondary, and high school.
Entering university and engaging in culinary practices followed by busy schedule caused by volunteering on events organized by world-class sport associations, keen to do whatever it took to give everyone the sponsor-provided refreshments in addition to feeding those who paid them excruciating fees for broadcasting rights, it didn't get better. And I'm not even talking about my first year in Plymouth, working in a restaurant so that I could afford to pay rent, only to come home and cook some more.for myself. I grew to over 100 kilograms and my BMI was quickly approaching the morbid obesity threshold set at 30.
That's when I started taking things into my own hands, reducing quantities of food intake over the following holidays and adopting the stomach-full-of-veggies diet complemented by no-yeast rule. From what I've read and experienced, this is the number one best method of weight reduction and maintenance, in addition to being wallet friendly.
Just by some pitta, small pack of ham, entire iceberg lettuce and a sixpack of tomatos. Maybe add coarse mustard to spice it up. And make good dinners. Like 2-eggs-whole-cauliflower fry-up with half baking potato on the side. Or fish and brocoli stew with some whole grain pasta? Lentils with tomatos and onions topped with boiled egg! Baked beans with a chop-up of leftover vegetables and toasted pitta and turkey rice burrito are also great option.
Add my 2 kilometers of swimming per week and you get mere 70 kilograms of Mattved. Easy. And long-term. I lasted until last autumn, two whole years!
Then, the whole cancer thing came about, followed by lung infection colostomy and all that jazz, rendering me back at above-100 weight. Is that entirely caused by the condition? I don't know. But the politically correct approach is to respect it, feel sorry about me, and blame my medical state. And that's bullshit, because the core of it is my inability to take care of myself. I failed and I'm disappointed with myself.
Hopefully, I'll change this again after the colostomy reversal. Using the same method. Anybody wanna join me? I promise, it feels great to anchor your BMI within the norm. Even if you prefer tails of the normal distribution in any other aspect of your being.