Radical Self-Care

There’s a thing that I think a lot of, if not all, fat people go through. Well, two things.

The first – putting off life until you’ve lost enough weight.

And the second – believing that you aren’t deserving of self-care.

They are both nasty, insidious beliefs that latch on to out insecurities like a parasite, and refuse to let go.

It’s the second that I’ve been dealing with lately.

A bit of background – my depression and anxiety have been worse than usual as of late. The reason for this is that I had to suddenly stop taking Abilify. Apparently, I no longer qualify for their free program, and there is no way I can afford the medication on my own.

So that sucked. I even had to take the semester off, because of how bad it got. I could maybe handle classes now, but I would have been so far behind that it would have been nearly impossible to catch up.

I’m going to be honest – the withdrawal from Abilify was really bad. I had a lot of suicidal thoughts, and I wanted to self-harm really badly. I spent a lot of time in bed, online, trying to escape my depression. I also seriously considered checking myself into a psychiatric unit, going so far as to pick the one I’d go to.

But then I got back into the Fat/Body Acceptance movement. And it has, once again, changed my life for the better.

I am slowly getting used to the idea that I have every right to care for myself, in whatever way my mind and body require. Whether that means staying up until 4am, or sleeping in until 4pm. Whether that means going out or staying in.

I have been doing my best to care for myself, and I feel better for it.

One of the things that has been a part of my self-care is to stop socializing with certain people. I’m not naming names, but I have had a friend for a few years, whom I considered my best friend. Recently, however, I have come to terms with the fact that she took advantage of me a lot. In addition to that, I was essentially a “second-choice” friends, it seems. A person that you only hang out with when you have no one else, or no one better.

I deserve better than that.

So I sent her a message, asking her to contact me. I thought, I’ll give her one last try. That was a week ago, and I’ve had no response. I’m about ready to give up. I might ask her roommate how she is doing, and that will be it. I will stop checking her tumblr, and just end it.

I don’t want to. But I have enough toxic people in my life – I don’t need another.

Other people in my life are less easy to deal with. My grandmother, for one. I always here about what I could be doing to be better, including writing a list of things that I am grateful for, utilizing positive thinking, exercising, and yes, losing weight.

It’s difficult to talk to her, because she thinks she is helping. But all she is doing is further wrecking my fragile emotional balance, and distancing me from her.

But how do you cut ties with family? Certainly, I don’t want to completely sever our relationship, however this might be a case of “loving from a distance.”

Well, this post has certainly gotten of track. Back to my main point:

I have been practicing radical self-care. And it is the most amazing thing ever.

For the first time in my life, I am putting my own needs first, instead of others. For the first time, I am recognizing that I have the right to pursue happiness. For the first time, I am accepting that I deserve to feel safe.

And it is amazing.

A Triumphant Return

Wow, I haven’t posted her in a while. Life has been moving on, as it tends to do, and I’ve been trying to move with it.

To be honest, I had basically abandoned this blog. But you know, I like it. I really like it, and I’ve decided to revive Reading While Fat.

I have mentioned that I have social anxiety disorder before, I’m sure. This is particularly relevant in this case, because sometimes I have to remove myself from Social Justice issues. This is kind of complicated, because of course it’s quite a privileged thing to be able to do. On the other hand, I literally can’t deal with politics and social justice because of a disability. So I don’t really know what to think of it. In any case, I had to step away for a couple of months.

This was both good and bad. It was good, because it allowed me to look at things with a fresh light, to gain a new perspective, and to heal mentally and emotionally.

It was bad, however, because I stopped reading Fat Acceptance blogs, and fell into a pit of self-hate. Every day, I am bombarded with information though television and the internet. And quite a lot of that information tells me that my body is bad. That I need to change my body to be worth anything.

I know, intellectually that this is incorrect. However, it’s hard to fight that mentality. And I had what one might term a relapse – I really wanted to lose weight. Like really badly.

But then I fell into feminism again.

Feminism had is problems, I totally get that. It largely concentrates on the issues of the white cis woman, and others can get pushed aside. But there are some awesome feminists out there, and Intersectional Feminism is the best.

There was a specific incident that lead me start trying to accept my body, actually. I was online, doing something – I don’t remember what – and I read about Macklemore’s song Same Love, and how it’s not as great as the hype. And so I read about Mary Lambert, who of course is in that song.

So I looked up her music, and holy shit.

She’s fucking amazing.

This song right here. It’s called I Know Girls (Body Love).

And I adore this song.

Really. Listen to it, if you haven’t before.  It’s amazing.

Anyway, I listened to that on repeat, and I was back.

So thank you, Mary Lambert, for being amazing and bringing me back from a self-hating depression spiral.

 

Feeling Feminine

If someone would ask me what gender I am, I usually answer female if they’re not familiar with non-binary genders and I don’t feel like explaining. If they do, or I have the patience to explain, then I say genderqueer. But really, I’m closer to the term genderfluid. Genderfluid, basically, means that I change or move between genders.

I would say that I have three genders that I move between. The first what I would call agender, though I may not be using the term correctly. Most of the time, I just don’t think about my gender. I feel largely androgynous. My second most common gender would be masculine, or male. Most rarely, I feel feminine, or female.

That would be how I have been feeling lately. I’ve been feeling ridiculously girly, compared to how I usually feel.

But to be honest, I don’t really know what to do with these feminine feelings. I don’t have a lot of really feminine clothes to wear, and the ones I do I feel self conscious in.

I suppose I feel the need to hide my body. I feel ashamed of the way I look, and I choose my clothes carefully so that I don’t stand out, and then when people do notice me, they don’t have to be exposed to my fat.

And I hate feeling that way.

In my life, I balance a fear of judgement stemming from my social anxiety disorder with a sort of defiant view of society where I hate the idea of allowing others opinions to effect the way I express myself. So even while half of me is afraid to be judged, the other  half of me flips the bird to society and tells it to fuck off.

It’s an odd sort of harmony.

In any case, I wonder why the defiant part of me is cowed by wearing skirts or even vaguely revealing shirt. I don’t even know what to think anymore.

And it’s not like I have a lot of money to buy the adorably plus sized clothes that I see online. I particularly love Domino Dollhouse, and I just want everything they have. But the question is, if I bought it, would I dare to wear it?

I think I’ll paint my nails tonight. And maybe I’ll wear make up to class tomorrow, if I have the nerve.

I hope I do.

On the Way to Self Acceptance

I won’t lie and say that I love my body. Nor have I fully accepted my body as it is yet. But I feel that I am on my way, and I have never been happier with the way I am. Even when I was 3 or 4 sizes smaller. Sometimes I like to think that I was happier then, and that if I could lose the weight, I would be a better, happier person. Of course, this simply isn’t true. It’s the rose colored glasses that we look on the past with, tinting my vision. I thought I was too fat then, I know, and had horrible self-esteem, at least partly due to my weight.

Not to say that I have great self-esteem now. But it’s better.

I suppose I first started hearing about body acceptance or fat acceptance when I started reading feminist blogs. Feministe is where I started, but I quickly found the amazing Kate Harding’s blog, and my life changed forever. In the best way possible.

At first it was difficult. I went through a stage of denial, learning that it is nearly impossible to lose weight and keep it off, and that diets fail, and all sorts of things. I didn’t want to believe it, because if it were true, where did that leave me? Unhappy, that was where. Because everything would be better if I lost weight. My life would greatly improve.

Of course, I know now that it isn’t true. But I believed it. I believed it wholeheartedly, and it was hard to let that belief go.

That was a couple of years ago now.

I’ve gone back a bit. I’ve wanted to lose weight so badly. I’ve wanted to be thin, because how could I be attractive if I wasn’t thin? Of course, I know that fat people are beautiful. I often find fat people quite attractive, myself. But I can’t imagine others feeling the same about me.

I know I still have a long journey ahead of me, in accepting my body the way it is. But I think I’m well on my way, and I’m happy enough where I am.

And every day, it gets better. I get closer to being more open and more happy with my body.

Of course, I still have to deal with a society that insists that being thin is the ideal. That equates weight with health. And I have to suffer through diet commercials, and hearing my family talk about the latest fad diets and how I’d be so pretty if I lost some weight. And even if they don’t do it on purpose, I alway hear little comments from friends and family about weight, mine or others, and it gets a person down.

But when that happens, I just go read body-positive blogs, make myself feel better, and get back up again.

Musings on Fashion, Gender, and Fat

As I may have mentioned before, I am a Female Assigned At Birth (FAAB) genderqueer person. I am also “morbidly obese,” though I’m not fond of that particular phrase. I’m sure there’s a better one out there somewhere, but if I know it, it has slipped my mind. Oh yes! Deathfatties. That’s me.

The combination of being fat and genderqueer is odd to me. I don’t know how they intersect, sometimes. I tell myself that I don’t want to wear skirts because I’m FtM, and men don’t wear skirts. But sometimes, I just want to wear a skirt, damnit. And I wonder if it’s because I’m ashamed of they way my body looks in a skirt. And I shouldn’t be ashamed, I know that. But the struggle with what society says about my body is a never ending one, and I don’t think I’ll ever overcome it.

The same thing with everything I wear. Am I trying to dress like a typical guy, or am I trying to dress in a way that is socially acceptable for my size? I don’t really know, to be honest. Sometimes, I think, I want to dress like a guy, like the guy that I am. But sometimes I don’t, and on those days, I need to have the freedom to express my feminine side.

Something I’m still working on.

And it doesn’t help that I don’t have a lot of money. I can’t exactly afford a lot of clothes. Jeans are what I wear, because jeans are practical. Skirts… not so much, as much as I may love them. Of course, that’s just my opinion.

Oh, but I want to buy a skirt. I can’t afford a skirt, but I want to buy one.

I have made progress in my style. I got jegging style jeans from Lane Bryant, and I love them. And I got a pair of skinny trousers, and they are amazing. Some time ago, I would never have worn them.

So yay me!

And. And today I bought a pair of boots. With heels.

I am so accepting my feminine side, it is awesome. Alas, were clothes only more available and cheaper and more in my size, I would be in heaven.

Okay, I admit it. I wanted to buy boots because I have a date tomorrow, and I want my boyfriend to like my new shoes and heels and I want to be taller than him. But still. I love them. Yay K Mart.

I’ll have to get some pictures posted soon. I mean, I want to address my slowly stepping into fatshion, don’t I? That means I need pictures, right?

Now I just have to find my gift card for Sock Dreams. The best place for cute socks, they have a whole section for plus size. I’ve got my $25 dollars worth picked out, yay!

New boots, new thigh-highs. Now I need a skirt.

Suggestions for cheap-ish plus size clothing is very welcome, thank you!