Information Overload

Does anyone else have information overload from the year+ of virtual conferences due to COVID?

Before COVID, I encountered some amazing conferences, workshops, and seminars that I would have loved to take part in. However, travel time, admission fees, and making a commitment well before the event (not knowing if I would need to work) made a natural limitation in the number of events I could participate in.

Then came COVID - and the world went virtual. 

Every group I'm part of started holding those same conferences, workshops, and seminars online. Woo-hoo! That meant no travel time, greatly reduced admission fees, and being able to cancel at the last minute because you would almost always get a recording of the information later. For that matter, it was rare that a cancellation was needed because I had very little work as it was. 

The first few months of this were just short of heaven. I was loading my little information-starved mind by the bucketful. I was going to meetings that were being held worldwide and it was just beautiful to hear viewpoints from many cultures while getting the knowledge I craved.

Then after a few months, it became more difficult to sit through another hour or two of anything, no matter how beneficial, at the same desk where I sat working for hours before and after that time. 

I started multi-tasking to pass the time. I'm a photographer so editing is something I can do while still listening, but it did make it hard to take notes and it made it impossible to pay total attention to the broadcast. But I still did it.

By this time more and more groups were going online and there were groups I had never heard of inviting me to this workshop or that seminar. I assume they got my information from the groups I was already part of. But the topics were so very interesting... so I signed up for more and more events.

Fast forward a few more months... All of this wonderful input that I had been so glad to get previously became too much. I no longer cared about the subjects I previously thought were so fascinating, or at least didn't care enough. I canceled more often, knowing that "one day" I would eventually get around to that compelling knowledge through the emailed recording link.

But I found that there wasn't time for all of the new classes while trying to fit in the ones I missed. I filed them away in my email folders with the hope that in time, I would finally engage, while subconsciously knowing I wouldn't.

At some point - I'm not sure when - I gave up. I didn't even file those emails anymore. I was barely able to make it through the meetings that I really needed to attend online, and found myself missing even some of those. These are meetings that I would drive 30 minutes each way to attend before COVID and now I couldn't make myself sit at my desk in order to attend.

I've thought a lot about why this happened. I'm one of those who needs almost constant input... as a big part of my personality is to be learning, growing, and mastering the world around me. Why did I decide to give up the great opportunities for that easy to obtain input?

My only valid hypothesis at this point is information overload. Even though I pride myself as one who wants to keep learning something new constantly, in practice I guess it doesn't work out that way. The ebb and flow of life - working, running errands, cleaning, cooking, eating, sleeping, etc - naturally limits the flow of new information one can obtain. What I thought was "constant learning" was, in fact, only as free time and opportunity allowed. 

The world came to a place where that free time was more plentiful because I wasn't doing as much as before. Once I had more time for those varied educational opportunities, I found out that my brain didn't need as much new input as I thought. 

I'm hopeful that once the world gets back to "normal" (whatever that is), that leveling aspect of life will return and I will again crave those times of learning something new. I also hope that I can stay balanced enough to be able to enjoy them.

The Opposite of Addiction

 (Author’s Note: I know there are actual differences in the terms of “abstinence”, “sobriety”, and “recovery”. But for the purpose of this article, I’m lumping the three terms together and using the word “sober/sobriety” to mean any of those three things. Furthermore, this article is based on https://www.huffpost.com/entry/the-real-cause-of-addicti_b_6506936)

 Those of us in addition recovery know it well – the opposite of addiction is sobriety.  This is why almost every addict first showed up at a 12-Step support group – to find a way to quit addictive behavior… to become sober.

 But what if the opposite of addiction isn’t sobriety? If it isn’t, then what is?

 First, a quick background on addiction. This stigma about addiction started with the scientific community, according to www.drugabuse.gov.  In[RC1]  the 1930s, it was thought that addicts were “morally flawed or lacking in willpower.” Overcoming addiction usually involved punishment or encouraging willpower to break the habit.

 Later research showed that with any addiction, the brain reacts the same way – the pleasure an addiction gets from the addictive substance/behavior increases dopamine much more than in a non-addict’s brain when experiencing the same pleasure.

 This was “proven” by experiments made popular during the “War on Drugs” campaign. In these experiments, rats were put alone in small cages with two bottles of water: one drug-laced and the other plain water. Each rat chose to drink the drug-laced water until it overdosed. This idea was generalized to all addictions.

 But in the ’70s, one scientist, Bruce Alexander, decided to test another theory. His thinking was that, of course, the rats would want drugs… they had nothing else to do. So, he set up a similar experiment with very different conditions.

 He got one huge cage with 20 rats of both genders. He added good food, places to mate and raise young, and stimulating toys and activities. He included the same two bottles of water. What he saw was very different than the results of the first experiment. These rats who had a social outlet and various types of stimulation preferred plain water.

 He theorized that human connection is the opposite of addiction. As the author of this article isn’t a scientist and also doesn’t have time to plow through the many scholarly articles about the implications of this finding, I’ll leave it to you to form your own inferences of how this affects long-term recovery.

I want you to know that this was mind-blowing to me. I know the power of support groups by just seeing the success stories in local support groups I’ve attended. I know that addiction is a disease of isolation – and of course, the opposite of isolation is socialization. I also realize that humans are much, much more complex than rats and that’s why a support group alone won’t bring sobriety. But to see it played out by a bunch of rats blew me away.

 I’ll go out on a limb and say that long-term sobriety won’t ever come without it – this human connection.

 One more quick thing I have learned about the power of being connected…

Estimated rates of PTSD have increased in war veterans from about 5% after WWII to 15-20% for the more recent wars, according to an article titled “U.S. Wars and Post-traumatic Stress Disorder[RC2] .”

 What was the difference?  Though there are many possibilities for this change, at least one speculated difference was that in WWII, the soldiers came home by boat. They had weeks to talk about their experiences with others who understood. However, in modern times, soldiers are home within a day, by plane. They go from a very traumatic situation to regular life without anyone to listen to and empathize with about what they’ve experienced. This lack of being heard very likely made a major difference in their future mental health. 

The takeaway… Put a priority and getting and staying connected. Your recovery may depend on it.                                                 

---

 [RC1]https://www.drugabuse.gov/publications/drugs-brains-behavior-science-addiction/preface

 [RC2]https://www.sfgate.com/health/article/U-S-wars-and-post-traumatic-stress-disorder-2627010.php

Fear and COVID-19 - A Flashback

(Originally written March 17, 2020 and for some reason never got added to this blog.)

It has been a while since I’ve spent time writing. I have been sick, then super busy making up for being sick, then just super busy. My writing has been pushed aside more than once when I really wanted to... because, in this time of such uncertainty, I felt this wasn't being "productive" (with my definition at the moment meaning “do something to make money”). Well, I hit the breaking point just a few minutes ago and it doesn't matter if it's technically "productive" or not, I need to write.

 

The timing has been weird on this one. I'm about to have cataract surgery and due to a test I need to have before the surgery, I have had to go without contacts for a week. Given the nature of my businesses, wearing my old glasses has made it very difficult to do some of my jobs and impossible to do others. 

 

I have known this for a few weeks and have been preparing for the loss of work and income. I was very proactive by making a list of things that I've been putting off for a long time that needed to be done and could be done with less than ideal vision. I knew this would keep me busy and not feeling quite as bad about the loss of income. I actually wasn't anxious during the beginning of the news about COVID-19, maybe because I was already mentally prepared for this downtime.

 

Then COVID-19 hit my immediate area, one of the last states in the country to really be impacted. When I was "just" missing work due to wearing my glasses and recovery from the surgery, I could still make money a few other ways, just not as much. However, because I live with my parents who are very high risk, it's safer for me to stay home. COVID-19 killed that potential for "not as much" work that I was still hoping for during this time.

 

Add to that, I hit a down cycle in my bipolar disorder and have been extremely depressed (bipolar depression – not related to the circumstances around me). Several non-COVID-related hard to deal with issues have happened personally and with some of the people I love. The support groups I rely on have had to cancel (though we were able to pull off a phone conference for one support group last night). 

 

I have figured out that the most difficult issues I'm dealing with right now are the lack of control and uncertainty. I'll talk about each of those separately. 

 

Control... Everyone loves to be in control. Worldwide wars have been fought over control. Marriages have been lost over control. Businesses have fallen apart because of control. Wanting control is a common feature of humanity.

 

But note that control is a defining characteristic of an addict. Trying to control others and the surrounding environment and always failing is one thing that leads to addictive behavior. Not being able to control the addictive behavior leads to shame and a feeling of worthlessness.

 

So, I'm an addict who has major depression and anxiety issues and is a freelancer who can't work for who knows how long. Under these circumstances there is so little I can control.

 

I'm not doing well.

 

Uncertainty... I think we are all programmed to know that we can deal with just about anything for a specified amount of time. When I was still in college, I remember thinking that I could deal with any subject or any professor for just a quarter. If I know that I was going to have a medical procedure or if I was sick, I had at least some idea of how long it would be until I could get back "to normal." 

 

Not knowing how long this pandemic will last, what will happen before it's over, and what will be the aftermath is a huge problem for me. I have lived through some horrible times in my 50+ years and there was always an end. So intellectually I know there will be an end to COVID-19. But the biggest issue is what my life will be like when it's over.

 

For several years now I have been building a photography business - specializing in event photography. I was just starting to build up some momentum in my business. Big events have are obviously being canceled left and right. It's scary to not know if the businesses that host events will still remember me when it's over.

 

Of course, I'm also worried about my parents. I'm worried that they will get sick... and I'm worried that if I leave my house and catch it, it'll be my fault that they got sick. Both my boyfriend and my daughter are high risk so I’m also worried, though not as much, about them getting sick.

 

Surprisingly, I'm not worried at all about me getting sick. For myself, I'm worried about being inconvenienced... specifically with my cataract surgery. Wearing glasses for this week has been truly horrible. If the test is canceled at the last minute, then all that misery will have been for nothing. If the surgery is put off, then it's that much longer before I can get back to work full-time after recovery.

 

I know I’m whining… I know that I’m one of many dealing with all of these issues… I know that there are many others who have it worse off than I do… In this case, though, knowing I’m not alone in how I feel doesn’t matter one bit to help me feel better.

 

The only thing that has made me feel better in this time has been to help others. Setting up the phone support group last night was one of the better times I’ve had the last week. Knowing I was doing something for others kept me out of my head for just a few minutes. It didn’t lift the overwhelming depression I’m feeling but did keep me going for a little longer while I’m in the midst of it.

 

With all of this, there is no better time to recite the Serenity Prayer... and really try to live it. "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

Fireworks Thoughts

Independence Day fell on a Sunday this year, so it was extra fun! (Insert loads of sarcasm into those last two words.) Because so many were out of work and school on Monday, we got to be bombarded by the sounds of fireworks for TWO nights, not just one! 

So... 

much... 

fun! 

(Insert even more sarcasm into those three words.)

Our across-the-street neighbors decided to put on a major fireworks show. As I had no idea how long the Sunday night show would last and my boyfriend and I were hanging out playing a puzzle game, I elected to stay inside and didn't watch. The next night, my boyfriend and I were trying to finish a movie so we missed seeing that evening's extravaganza. 

When I say we missed watching and seeing, I want to make it clear that we did NOT miss hearing the fireworks. They sounded like they were literally shooting them right outside of my bedroom window.

I don't like loud noises; I haven't my entire life. As a child, I hated going to the city-wide fireworks show each year. I thought they were beautiful but just couldn't take the volume, especially at the finale'. I spent the entire show with my hands tightly clasped over my ears.

Normally, if this happened in my neighborhood, I would have put on headphones or earbuds and turned the music up. But since I was with my boyfriend and both times we had started something we wanted to finish, I didn't feel comfortable drowning out both the fireworks (a good thing) and him (a bad thing). 

So both nights I endured... clenching my teeth, getting knots in my stomach, jumping at the loudest booms. 

As they lasted much longer than I would have ever expected (who has that much money to spend on fireworks, anyway?), I had plenty of time to think as I prayed for them to be finished.

One thought that was pervasive during both "shows" was how I wanted to be the mean old neighbor who would call the cops. It's technically illegal to shoot fireworks in our small town, but I know many do so anyway. However, there are lots of illegal things that I used to participate in and hated those adults who were too serious for anyone's good. (Don't go too far with that - I'm talking about trespassing to get our only baseball or TP'ing a yard, not stealing a car.)

I decided I wouldn't be that neighbor. I would continue clenching, knotting, and jumping for a little while longer.

Then they kept going. I had more time to think. 

During Sunday night's display, I was thankful for a strange issue - that my cat was at the animal ER. Annabel is very skittish and even jumps up and runs when I sneeze or cough. Though I was very scared that we might lose her as she was very, very sick that morning, I consoled myself with the thought that at least she wouldn't be subjected to this sensory onslaught.

Monday night she was home but wasn't completely well. Earlier in the day I thought about last night's fireworks and was so glad that she had missed them. When the insanity started back  Monday night, I was upset - I wanted to scream and cry at the same time. My little cat was very fragile and I knew this would stress her out even more than her overnight stay in the vet hospital. 

I almost broke my prior night's vow to not be the mean old neighbor when she ran and hid behind the couch. I wanted so much for those kids to stop and I didn't mind if they got in trouble in the process. But I also know how much fun it is for kids to shoot off fireworks and there was a part of me that hated to spoil their fun.

(Besides, it's possible the police wouldn't have helped and I would have still had to endure.)

Both nights' musings led to a very important issue - when does one person asserting their rights trample over another's? On one hand, I had the right to have a quiet evening at home. I had the right to not have to fight a panic attack over something I couldn't control. I had the right for my sweet kitty to not have to stress out so much she couldn't heal.

But those kids also have rights. Leaving out the whole "illegal" part of this, they have the right to have fun as long as they weren't on our property. 

This led to the debate I have within myself multiple times each week - when is it okay to tell another individual that they can't do a particular activity because of how it affects you?

Some examples...

- TV volume: 

I live with my parents. They are at the age that hearing loss is pretty much a given. They watch tv a lot, LOUDLY - shows I don't like and some that particularly annoy me. But is it "fair" for me to ask them to always turn the volume down if it means they can't hear it?

- Dogs:

We have sidewalks in our neighborhood and many of my neighbors have dogs. This means there are dogs in or near our front yard almost every day of the week, multiple times per day. Sometimes these dogs bark at or run towards my cat. I would love for them to not go in front of my house and terrify my anxious cat, but is it "fair" for them to not be able to walk their dogs on the sidewalk in their neighborhood?

- Food:

I am what is called a "supertaster." This means I taste bitter and spicy more aggressively than most. I don't even like black pepper. The bitter aspect isn't usually an issue but there are many times that the food I am eating in a group situation is too spicy for me. But is it "fair" to ask the hosts beforehand for bland food? I mean, it's personal preference, not like a life-threatening allergy.

- Seating:

Being very overweight means seating can be an issue at times. The biggest fear related to this area is that I'll break one of those little wedding chairs or something similar at a gathering of friends and family. I would love to ask that whatever would be appropriate seating for me be used for all of the guests so I don't have to be singled out. But is it "fair" that those hosting have to pay more for seating or have to do more than they typically would have due to one person's needs?

I could go on with more examples but to get to my point... I'm an advocate for helping those who need special accommodations. I'm one of them. I've written several articles about the value of doing so. 

However, every time I request a special accommodation I wonder if it's "fair" to ask. After all, I'll be inconveniencing someone else, even if it's in a tiny way, to get my way. How much should a person with a disability or someone with mental illness or an elderly person be able to ask for before it's too much? 

It's entirely accurate that the fireworks the past two nights were anxiety-producing and could have easily led to a panic attack either or both nights. We had just spent a lot of money taking our cat to the ER, only to possibly have her hurt herself due to the noise. We had numerous reasons to ask them to stop shooting those fireworks.

I'm glad we didn't. 

But the next time I have a dilemma like this, which will I choose? Asserting myself for what I or a loved one needs or keeping in mind that the other person(s) rights are just as important?

There's not a clear answer. There never will be. I just hope that as we keep standing up for the rights of those who need something special to have the best life possible, we don't trample over the rights of everyone else.

Please comment on what you would have done in this situation - would you have called the police or endured? Also consider following this blog, my Facebook pages (SpotlightonStigma and nowNovelPhotos), and my website (www.NovelPhotos.com). Thanks for your support.

Loss

The last few days have been hard. My daughter's best friend of 14 years died.

I'm sure you automatically assumed that this was a person. It wasn't. It was one of her cats - one she got when she was 7 years old.

She felt a special bond with Pumpkin from the minute she saw him. We had found someone in the paper who had a bunch of kittens. My plan was to bring home two because there are few things cuter than cats playing together. 

So my daughter and I had an understanding when we got there - I would pick out one and she would pick out one. 

It was a big decision. They were all cute and since we were the first to get there, we had several to choose from. I quickly chose an orange and white tabby, who, along with his stripes had a white belly and white on some of his legs. My daughter named him Tiger.

My daughter also quickly found the one she wanted, but it wasn't a quick decision. The kitten-who-would-be-named Pumpkin had some kind of infection in both eyes and I didn't feel I had the time or resources to take on a sick kitten. 

She kept insisting that this was the kitten for her and finally I relented. The more I thought about it, I suspected all of them had the same issue (it turned out Tiger did too). I knew we weren't walking out of that house without two cats and so Pumpkin and Tiger left with us.

My daughter and I have had lots of cats. I personally believe that if you live in an area with not a lot of traffic, cats should have outdoor access. I feel that cats are made to be outdoors and I'm willing to risk a shorter life span because in many cases, their quality of life is better.

In fact, the house my daughter and I lived in was chosen with that in mind. It was on a dead-end street, with only three homes on the street (ours being one of them). Across the road, there were several acres of thick woods. I had found a cat door for one of the windows so they could go out any time they wanted.

Anyway, having outdoor access also meant we could have more cats than if we kept them all inside. So Pumpkin wasn't the only one - but it was love at first sight and instantly he became - and stayed - her favorite.

Pumpkin even saved my daughter's life one time. She attempted suicide and Pumpkin jumped up and knocked the pills out of her hand before she could take them. I'm saying that because it's just one way to show how special that cat is and how nervous I can get when something rocks Charlyn's world. 

Fourteen years later after that day she picked out a scraggly kitten with an eye infection, my daughter was out of town when the friend she asked to come check on her pets found him. I was shooting a conference and during the lunch and keynote, I got a call from her. She was wailing so loudly she couldn't talk. 

Her girlfriend got on the phone and told me what happened. I asked my photography partner and boyfriend at the time if he could cover the rest of the conference and I left to be with her.

It's now five days later. Not only have I been mourning losing Pumpkin myself, but even more so I've been worried about my daughter. I'll never be completely worry-free that she won't go there again - and Pumpkin won't be around to stop her this time.

Anyway, though it's been hard, we've all been making it. We took him yesterday to the vet to be cremated. It was extremely difficult for her to say that good-bye and give him up, knowing it was forever. Her girlfriend and I supported her and my boyfriend came over to support me... and we all made it... somehow. We got Chinese take-out for supper and even laughed some that night (obviously about other things). 

I know it will continue to be really hard for her as she lives life without the best friend she's had for most of her life, but I feel that we are out of the woods and she'll be okay. 

I didn't tell you that it's possible God may have already provided for a new, similar best furry friend (though there's no way he can be the same). A few months ago, Charlyn had another cat of hers (Serafina) hit by a car. She was the sibling of one still around (Mufasa) who missed his sibling terribly. 

So, I encouraged Charlyn to find another cat of similar age and temperament to be Mufasa's playmate. After finding several other pets that she thought would be good for him and having each not work out, we were both discouraged. 

Then she found a black long-haired beauty that she named Raven. From the beginning, he showed characteristics similar to Pumpkin. In fact, we both thought at the time that he might be the closest replacement she could ever find for Pumpkin, in case something happened to him, but we were both nervous to talk about it because it meant that Pumpkin might not have much longer with her.

The first-night Charlyn was home from New York, she finally went to bed and Raven was on her pillow, the place that Pumpkin had occupied for years. Of course, that released a flurry of tears but was also comforting. Though I know that there's no way to completely replace the relationship that she and Pumpkin had, at least she's not left totally alone, and Raven might be a close second.

Update: it's now two years later and my daughter has still not gotten over this loss. In fact, as I read through this post, I started crying myself. I remember telling her when she was really struggling that a time would come that she would realize she had gone an hour without thinking about him, then a day, then a week.

That hasn't happened. There's not a day that she doesn't still think about him. Her grief has gotten better but I realized how short-sighted my statement had been.

I've learned there are some losses that one will never "get over." As time passes, the grief does diminish because as humans we couldn't survive carrying that intense grief for a lifetime. But there are times it never goes away.

This was one of those times. 

However, I'm very thankful for who Pumpkin was to her and that my daughter is still around, even though I know that the grief of this loss will never completely go away.

I Saw A Baby Today...

 ... and he was adorable and cute and cuddly and flirted with me. Nothing unusual about any of that. It was what I realized about myself that was somewhat unusual.

I haven't held a baby in at least 15 years. Now... some of that is just because I'm not around them very often. My adult daughter isn't planning to have kids; none of my nieces or nephews have gone that route just yet; and I recently moved and so I don't have any friends nearby who have grandchildren. The church I attend is made up of mostly older adults and we rarely have babies there. So I'm just not exposed to them very much.

But even if I did have them around, I know I wouldn't be holding them unless necessary (like someone just handing me their baby so that they can do something). 

You might think this is because I don't like children. However, it's the exact opposite. Until recently, my life centered around children - my daughter, her friends, and those I babysat, nannied, or taught. I played with dolls until I was about eight years old and my dream was to marry young and have lots and lots of children. 

I was one of those kids who couldn't wait until I was old enough to help out in the nursery at church and I was soooo excited the very first time a baby fell asleep in my arms. I started babysitting at home (with my mom nearby in case something happened) when I was nine or ten years old and then had a regular job babysitting by the time I was twelve. 

I never worked in food service or retail as a teenager - I worked in gym nurseries or daycares. I was a nanny right after high school and then part-time again during college. I taught for about twenty-five years, with most of those years being in preschool special education. I was a child and youth minister at several of the churches I attended.

So why won't I hold a baby now if the opportunity presents itself?

Something that I have recently realized about myself is that if something hurts me badly, I try to cut off those emotions within myself to save myself from the pain... and I avoid any reminders of that pain.

The first time I did this concerning babies was when I couldn't have children - at first because I was in college and my husband and I knew we couldn't juggle our schedules or finances with raising a child at that time and then later when I actually realized I had infertility issues and had to work extra hard to get pregnant.

During the time I wanted a baby with every fiber of my being, I avoided holding them. This was while I was completely in charge of the nursery at church so it was a real feat to work there without that close contact. I just made sure there were plenty of people who had none of my weird qualms about this issue and no one ever noticed. In fact, I think they were glad they got to keep the sweet ones to themselves.

Then I finally got pregnant and had my daughter. I was ecstatic - probably the happiest I've ever been in my life. My best friends also had daughters within a few months of the birth of mine so it was a babyfest within our circle of friends. During that time, the earlier issue I had about holding babies had completely disappeared. 

Then, about the time I thought that we were ready to have a second child, my husband left us. Since I had my daughter later in life, I knew that by the time I got remarried, I might not ever have another child, but I never completely gave up hope. In fact, I'm 53 now and only within the past few years have I totally given up the dream of having another baby, thinking that I might be one of those women who shares the pregnancy experience with an adult daughter who is also pregnant... that most people freak out about. 

It was sometime during the separation and divorce that I again buried that part of my heart. I just couldn't hold an infant without that longing for another child tearing me apart. So I avoided those situations like I did during those years of not being able to have a child.

So... exactly what was the revelation from seeing the baby today? It was twofold:

- I had not realized how many years it had been since I closed down that part of my heart, and 

- I do this with so many other things in life.

I am still exploring the idea, but I learned recently that one symptom of PTSD is doing just that - avoiding anything that reminds you of the traumatic event. It's something that I need to learn much more about and discuss in therapy, but I can't help but think it's not good. I've done this to myself in so many areas that it's no wonder that I feel very little joy in my life - I've shut it all down. 

Maybe one day (after COVID), I'll again be one of those people who ask to hold that cute, adorable infant instead of wanting to run the other way. Maybe one day my heart will be healed enough to take that risk and, instead of it causing pain, it'll cause the joy I had when I was that pre-teen who was beyond thrilled to have an infant fall asleep in her lap. 

Update on July 19, 2021 (about 3 months later)...

Today I saw another baby but it wasn't the baby that got to me. It was his bottle. He was drinking from the same brand of bottle I used with my daughter. I felt like I had been punched in the gut - just from seeing a baby bottle! This goes deeper than I thought...

Wait Before You Judge Someone's Weight

I am overweight... very overweight. The medical term is "morbidly obese" (which I hate) and the standard term is fat (which I'm trying to accept as an accurate description while ignoring all the emotional pain that word brings up). 

From the time I was young, it seems that everything that was wrong with me was because of my weight. I remember going to a doctor one time as a young adult because I had an ear infection and before the doctor even looked at my ears, I got a long lecture about the need to lose weight. 

For the longest time, more doctor's appointments than not included a lecture about my weight. It was like they assumed I had never heard that same lecture before, that I didn't even realize I was overweight, or that I hadn't ever tried anything to fix it.

Doctors have gotten more understanding over the years but I still walk out of every appointment with a new doctor amazed when I wasn't lectured about my weight - it is so ingrained in me to expect that.

Just to go on and clear this up, I have tried just about everything... fad diets, low carbs, high protein, Adkins, lots of exercise, fasting, diet pills, fiber pills, etc. I was on diets from the time I was really young until I finally gave up about 10-15 years ago. So, dear doctors of my past, I want you to know that I was trying. It was just that nothing worked.

For the record, I am now trying again. However, no more "diets." I realized I have an eating disorder/food addiction and I'm going that route now to deal with it instead.

At my age, I don't expect to ever be what the charts say is an ideal weight. When I was young and working out almost every day, I never got there, so I know it's unrealistic to even imagine that now. But even if I do end up losing a great deal of weight to become closer to "normal," I know that the battle inside my head will probably continue on.

This battle is what my mind automatically tells me that everyone is thinking about me when I differ from the norm. Let me give you some examples:

- Sweating... I have several medical conditions and medicines which, combined, tend to make me sweat. A LOT. I can be sitting at my desk and the temperature creeps up to 76 (which is really mild for most people) and I break out in a sweat. But if I'm outside and I'm pouring sweat, I automatically assume that everyone is thinking, "If that woman would just control what she puts into her mouth, she wouldn't sweat like that."

- No booths, please...When I go to a restaurant, I always ask for a table. Yes, I could technically fit into most booths out there, but it's highly embarrassing the times I can't. Plus, it's uncomfortable most of the time even if I fit. So I insist on a table. The majority of the time the hosts are very accommodating but I've had a few times when I felt that I was inconveniencing them by my preference. 

- Injuries... I recently had an ankle injury, a bad one. Well, I use the term "injury" very lightly, as it was caused by overuse while exercising. (Ironic, huh?) Since then I've had to use a walking boot, an AFO (a stiff ankle brace), a walker, a knee scooter, a wheelchair, and sometimes a combination of several of those items. If anyone else uses these accommodations, I feel that no one thinks twice about it and assumes it was from an injury. If I'm using them, I feel that everyone is thinking, "She did it to herself by eating too much."

- Second helpings/desserts... Depending on what type of meal plan I'm on at the time, I might be able to eat dessert or get a second helping of some type of food. I always feel that I'm being judged for my food choices. Keep in mind that there are those of us who are doing something to work on this weight issue... but it's just not healthy to "be good" all the time. My mental issues and stress levels combined with some past and current life issues mean that I honestly can't deal with the stress of "eating healthy" 24/7. In fact, the first doctor who I ever felt cared more about me than my weight told me that severe depression had a higher chance of killing me (through suicide) than my weight did. So if you see someone overweight getting more food or different foods than you think they should, hold back your judgment. You don't know what's going on in their lives and how losing weight might not be the priority you think it is.

- Saying no to invitations most would automatically say yes to... I'm sure some think I'm stuck-up or don't like them because I don't attend certain activities I've been invited to. There are some places that have a high potential to be embarrassed so I avoid them (and it's embarrassing to admit why so I just leave it to the imagination of the one who did the inviting). Some examples: 1 - An outdoor wedding could mean those little wedding chairs. Those terrify me. How incredibly embarrassing would it be to break one at one of the most important days of a couple's life? 2 - Theme parks could mean sitting and watching while the others go on a fun roller coaster that you just can't fit into. 3 - Fun times at the beach can be embarrassing as you try to walk in soft sand and sink much lower than everyone else. These are just a few examples of things that someone really overweight thinks about that the normies wouldn't ever even imagine are issues.

- Travel... Seatbelts in different cars are different lengths and the receptacle sometimes is buried either between the seats or in the back of the seat in the car's backseat. Airplane seatbelts are never long enough. And back to amusement parks... some rides still use regular seatbelts, which are also usually not long enough. I've mostly gotten over the stigma of having to ask for a seatbelt extension or using a seatbelt extender myself, but there are times I would rather not go out with friends or try to ride an amusement park ride just because I don't feel up to dealing with it. One way I've gotten around it is to offer to drive so that the seatbelt isn't an issue. But for those who work in air travel or those amusement park rides, please be discreet when asking about or giving out seatbelt extensions. You can make an overweight person's day by taking that extra step and saving him/her some embarrassment. 

- Conferences, training, or learning opportunities... Don't even think about me being able to fit in a typical student desk. I've walked into the breakout rooms at some conferences held at high schools or colleges and there was absolutely nowhere for me to sit. The same holds true with classrooms or meeting rooms that only had one size of chairs, with arms, that are not one-size-fits-all. It took a while, but eventually, I learned that it's more important for me to suck it up and go find a chair I can fit into from another room than miss the information that I planned on getting with my attendance. 

- Theatres, auditoriums, and concert halls... Similar to my last point, many theatre seats are not built for plus-sized people. Older theatres, especially, terrify me because it's not even that I'm uncomfortable in some of those seats - I literally won't fit. I've learned to ask for handicapped seating. Again, it's embarrassing because the other audience members can look at me and think, "She's not disabled." (Oh, but if only they knew the physical and mental issues I deal with...) But I've gotten over that concern so that I can enjoy the wonderful musical, movie, or concert the same as every other person there. Also, to be honest, the other audience members will enjoy it more if I'm not spilling out of one of those tiny seats. (To this same effect, handicapped seating is also great for my social anxiety disorder, as I am not sitting in the middle of a group of strangers.)

I could include more examples but these are some that affect my life every day the most. I'm writing this to increase awareness and to decrease the judgment and stigma that those of us with weight issues deal with frequently. Please keep in mind that a person is not his/her weight - and just like someone who is very tall, or short, or has other physical features that aren't "average" - we just want to live life the best we can.