Hello everyone!
I had a health scare in my family. Now, I am slowly realising that it has had a huge impact on me. I feel so ashamed just writing this.
A family member required immediate surgery where they ended up getting a stoma and doctors quickly took note of multiple comorbidities. At the top of all their lists, the same concern: obesity II. After their initial hospital stay, they lost enough to be on the upper end of overweight - all in all, a drastic and rapid weight loss. The months of recovery were hell for our family.
The diet for patients with an ileostomy is quite restrictive and, frankly, it has f@ckd with me hard. I had to cook two sets of meals every day because I am vegan, everyone else in my family isn't. Now, my motivation to cook in general, but mostly for myself flew out the window after a week. Not trying to make excuses, but I was so tired.
So, I snacked on vegan ingredients, fruit, and cookies/chocolate for a long time, all the while berating this family member for not following his prescribed diet. I feel that at some point I turned this critical, clinical eye on myself. So every time I ate, I felt watched by others, I was afraid I was getting too much sugar etc. Of course, it might also be that the critical eye was always turned on myself and it just got worse when monitring someone else's diet.
The more this family member deviated from their diet, the angrier I got. The more I compulsively went on walks. I hated my snacking. I was passive aggressive at many people for their snarky remars about my love of tortilla chips - as in, I went on a hunger strike for a day or two. I broke down when I've been told to watch my own weight by a concerned relative, while another pondered at length why my generation is so fat. And all of this was amplified by all the doctors (from the surgeon to the cardiologist, the orthopedist, the neurologist, the physical therapist) telling us that excessive eating and drinking got the patient where they are.
Fast forward to today: I have been back home for two weeks now. The first thing I did was step on the scale, scared that I had gained weight. It turns out I lost weight. This should make me happy, right?
I am terrified. Terrified that I cannot assess how my body feels and how food makes me feel. Terrified of food itself. And terrified of going to visit my family in a few weeks and the fresh hell that awaits me there. Every time I call their caregiver they berate the patient's appetite (which has returned with a fury), berate themselves for having a beer after a long day and worring about every couple hundred grams on the scale from day to day. Clearly, the caregiver also isn't well.
I am writing here primarily to ask how you are dealing or have dealt with this critical eye especially when it's turning towards others. I find myself heavily judging people in larger bodies. I am scared of the visceral digust and hate that bubbles up. A few friends even noticed that my language around fat and weight turned sour. I know I have fatphobia ... but I thought I had it under control. At least somewhat. Anyway, I am looking for therapy now, but I am under the supervision of a psychiatrist (though she sees this as stress and said it is normal to be concerned over one's weight if your health is affected).
Would really appreciate some insight. Thanks for reading!
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