I’ve talked before about how I am fat and happy. I struggled for many years with anorexia and bulimia and those were the darkest years on my life. I was consumed with numbers and laxatives. (Sorry, TMI I know, but this entire article may be TMI)
I’ve come to associate lower BMI with depression and higher BMI with being happy. With today marking one week ago of having found my dads body, I cannot imagine eating. We found him last Saturday and I had one piece of pizza Monday afternoon. I felt hunger again on Thursday and ate. I don’t recall Wednesday because it was his funeral, but I likely ate something so people would be happy.
I think it’s important to know that every fat person you see, is not a lazy slob who emotional eats. Some of us have deep rooted past that are trying to keep from resurfacing.