I have insomnia. Self-diagnosed, true, but I think I am intelligent enough to know what it means when I am on day three of a string of days when I either don’t feel tired, or, like tonight, I can’t stay asleep.
But the science of medicine seems to believe that everything is caused by something… except my obesity. That’s hast caused by my crappy diet and laziness.
So its unsurprising that the laundry list of things I suffer from are all CAUSED by my fat.
Yep… simple search with my Kindle fire brings up this article on how obesity and sleep deprivation are linked. Don’t you love it when writers like this make the fallacious jump they all make which is so automatically say that the fat is the egg and the sleep issues the chicken. Lose weight and get more sleep, you lazy slobs, it says.
I have also been diagnosed with Restless Leg Syndrome, which is, once again, one of those fatty conditions. One search and you’ll find the helpful articles on how to treat RLS, and losing weight is there.
Never mind that I didn’t have RLS before prolonged use of anti-depressants, which is ‘linked’ to RLS. I have been fat since childhood, but I am sure the logical conclusion that people draw is that I am breaking down, system by system, because of my fat.
It gets tiring having every single problem you face reduced to ‘lose weight’ without any real push by doctors to find out why I am fat.
Both my parents have been recently diagnosed as having ‘underperforming thyroids’ to use my dad’s turn of phrase. The last time a doctor had taken an interest in my thyroid was when I was an undiagnosed asthmatic child who was being bullied at school for being fat when I was really just taller and more developed than the other kids… at first. That test said my thyroid was fine. Twenty years and multiple doctors later and I still can’t recall that it has ever been checked since.
To be fair, it probably was before I had my gastric bypass in 2002. I wonder what constitutes an ‘underperforming thyroid’.
I think my weight is a direct result of a traumatic childhood: bullying at school and a severe disease faced by my mother when I was in grade cool lead to a definable lack of stability in my home and life.
I wasn’t born to be miserable, harassed, or reduced to a blob with a laundry list of issues. But here I am, blogging it up at nearly 2 am because my legs are jerking too much to allow me to stay asleep.
The whole situation is maddening and depressing, and in a way that I can’t express to most of my friends who have never had to deal with a personal disease laundry list while also dealing with home issues, work issues, societal issues and thus don’t know the burden of chronic illnesses and the bitterness that is produced when there is a lack of real answers, except the go-to three always given to me: see a shrink, lose weight, take some more pills.
Lifestyle lifestyle lifestyle… medicine has concluded that its all my lifestyle so I should just act differently.
Luckily my best friend understands… for the very worst reason. The post traumatic stress syndrome she suffers from due to the abuse she received from her sexually and otherwise violent first husband has left her in the same boat… a laundry list of physical issues, from migraines to stomach problems, back pain, etc., and no real cure in sight, per say. She was lucky to have gotten the migraines sorted and it has done wonders for her PTSD and the depression she felt over being so physically messed up. But she knows the go-to answers. She got them too. Lifestyle change and shrink and hope she can destress enough for her body to work right again. And yes, she is ‘obese’ and like me, she doesn’t agree with reducing all her problems to her fatty core. I call mine nougat. I have a fatty core of nommable nougat. Add that to the small amounts of blood in my coffee stream and you can see why my boyfriend thinks I am both sweet and naturally energetic.
Medicine is supposed to fix us, guide us to well-being. Its failing in this country. You see the presidential naysayers blame Obamacare for 3rd world lever medicine, and yet we had the distinction of being the sickest first world country before Obama even took up his first term.
Since I practically have to diagnose and self-treat because of all my issues plus a lack of medical benefits through my employer, I choose to see me life defined through stress. Even my weight gain is a symptom of stress. In doing so, I feel I have empowered myself to go ahead and try to fix it through that lens. Yeah, this means I still have the same cliches of diet, exercise and lifestyle changes to choose from to treat myself, but I would rather face down a bear with knowledge of its true name than take it on with nothing.
People can tell me I need a professional all they want now. After all, hello insomnia… and the two canker sores I have has erupt today tend to agree… but I can tell you this.
My legs have semi calmed and I am very sleepy. Writing relaxes me when I am stressed. So maybe going out on my own limb to figure out what will actually work FOR ME, based on an UNDERSTANDING OF ME, is a good thing after all.