I know I promised to write a bariatric approved product review.
But first, this that showed up in my suggested Google links.
Girl, what are you thinking? Why are we flopping our fupa all over the Instagram and sharing/errr selling it to The Sun UK? We know that shit is real. (Did she really make a single account for, um, skin?)
For a moment I am tempted to pull out the skin I AM IN — you know — IN POST WEIGHT LOSS SOLIDARITY, after losing 170 pounds and having two babies and start a fupa social media campaign.
But, uh, no. It's very, very real. We are quite aware. You don't have to flop it on Insta to prove it to any-one.
"How are you so confident?" "I'm an asshole!" Okay? It's my good time, and my good life, despite what you think of me. I live my life, because I dare. I dare to show up when everyone else might hide their faces and hide their bodies in shame. I show up because I'm an asshole, and I want to have a good time. And my mother and my father love me. They wanted the best life for me, and they didn't know how to verbalize it. And I get it. I really do. They were better parents to me than they had themselves. I'm grateful to them, and to my fifth grade class, because if they hadn't made me cry, I wouldn't be able to cry on cue now. [Dabs tears] If I hadn't been told I was garbage, I wouldn't have learned how to show people I'm talented. And if everyone had always laughed at my jokes, I wouldn't have figured out how to be so funny. If they hadn't told me I was ugly, I never would have searched for my beauty. And if they hadn't tried to break me down, I wouldn't know that I'm unbreakable. [Dabs tears] So when you ask me how I'm so confident, I know what you're really asking me: how could someone like me be confident? Go ask Rihanna, asshole!"
My theory about this: is that Facebook is so big, so many users, that it's team of eyeballs that look-over-the-things-that-offend-the-people cannot possibly fathom the Things That Offend Each End User Of It's Free Service.
Even when someone like me — gets a thinly veiled threat or not at all veiled — and I re-post it — I get the boot.
Soon, there were two dozen angry rabid post weight loss surgery patients, (some that were former members of my group, some that I did not know) jumping on a hate filled thread on Facebook — name-calling and wanting me in a hole, too. Why? I have the thread. It may or may not still be going. I don't know. It is painful to read. I was called a bitch, a victim, and worse.
And for attempting to stand up for myself, I am the one in the Facebook slammah. Facebook's popo clearly can't follow the chain of events and regard my actions as the problem. The persons whom are actually at fault are publicly posting and GLOATING about their success in getting a person bullied offline.
One is accepting cash donations. Why?
So. Here I am. In jail. Eating mush. Getting violated.
Hey, I suppose I shouldn't knock it too hard, it's free delivered food, free clothes, and a place to sleep, with no kids to bother me – and do I have to pay taxes? <g>
Because inflammation is an underlying factor in so many chronic diseases, the fact that people in their early 20s are already showing signs of inflammation is a warning bell, Copeland adds. Using data from the larger study, his team will scrutinize other measures of adversity, such as the stress hormone cortisol, and epigenetic changes in which environmental factors affect the way genes are activated. The scientists will also look for biomarkers of more positive methods than bullying through which kids can increase their confidence and social standing.
This is why SO many bullied kids are FAT. STOP IT.
It is funny how people are. When a thing happens and people say things like, "Don't worry, we will always have your back" and how you sort of know they don't mean it. It is interesting how they will find ways to weasel out of your existence, quietly, so that you do not notice.
One year ago I attended a weight loss related event and a thing happened. Friends and businesses alike, sent me all kinds of messages of support: WE HAVE YOUR BACK AND WE STAND BEHIND YOU GO DO ALL THE THINGS AS YOU ALWAYS DID!
Edited to add – I also find it curious that these people are always willing to privately hoo-rah me – but never stand up in public after I've supported them for years and years. I guarantee private emails will follow this.
And then they were gone. Crickets, guys. This coming from the woman who had no less than 30 lbs of free PLEASEWRITEABOUTOUR protein in her house at any given moment – NADA. I have 6,000 members in a support group and I take Walmart vitamins. Is selling out — worth my sanity?
So, if you're responsible for the Anti-Beth-PR-Campaign because of what I DID on year ago? (If you don't know, don't ask.) GO YOU. Be proud of what you did. Pat yourself on the back.
You may have noticed by the slowing-to-a-stall blogging that I lost my mojo. It was partly due to this, and ironically enough (… and I have said this before) I am doing "better than ever" in terms of my weight loss surgery life — which is WHAT MY BLOG IS ABOUT.
I just ain't got time for fake people. I got old, guys. I got teenagers up in here and it's all drama, all the TIME, and who needs adults with drama? No more. No thank you. All done. I realized a year ago that it just wasn't worth it – and I gave up a lot of things. I dropped 1,000 people on my Facebook feed and just let go. I rarely see anything anymore and it is calm. I tell people it's puppies, babies, puppies and occasional food.
The only problem with this is — when you no longer are a part of the drama — you don't get invited to the stuff. Apparently to get invited To The Things, you need to Be Dramatic.
Well shit, go me. And no, I'm not willing to go back. I kind of like it quiet and calm.
Harsh Physical Punishment in Childhood and Adult Physical Health.
BACKGROUND: The use of physical punishment is controversial. No studies have comprehensively examined the relationship between physical punishment and several physical health conditions in a nationally representative sample. The current study investigated possible associations between harsh physical punishment (ie, pushing, grabbing, shoving, slapping, and hitting) in the absence of more severe child maltreatment (ie, physical abuse, sexual abuse, emotional abuse, physical neglect, emotional neglect, and exposure to intimate partner violence) and several physical health conditions.
METHODS: Data were from the National Epidemiologic Survey on Alcohol and Related Conditions collected in 2004 and 2005 (n = 34 226 in the current analysis). The survey was conducted with a representative US adult population sample (20 years or older). Eight past year physical health condition categories were assessed. Models were adjusted for sociodemographic variables, family history of dysfunction, and Axis I and II mental disorders.
RESULTS: Harsh physical punishment was associated with higher odds of cardiovascular disease (borderline significance), arthritis, and obesity after adjusting for sociodemographic variables, family history of dysfunction, and Axis I and II mental disorders (adjusted odds ratios ranged from 1.20 to 1.30).
CONCLUSIONS: Harsh physical punishment in the absence of child maltreatment is associated with some physical health conditions in a general population sample. These findings inform the ongoing debate around the use of physical punishment and provide evidence that harsh physical punishment independent of child maltreatment is associated with a higher likelihood of physical health conditions.
When I was a kid I used to think that pork chops and karate chops were the same thing I thought they were both pork chops and because my grandmother thought it was cute and because they were my favourite she let me keep doing it
not really a big deal
one day before I realized fat kids are not designed to climb trees I fell out of a tree and bruised the right side of my body
I didn’t want to tell my grandmother about it because I was afraid I’d get in trouble for playing somewhere that I shouldn’t have been
a few days later the gym teacher noticed the bruise and I got sent to the principal’s office from there I was sent to another small room with a really nice lady who asked me all kinds of questions about my life at home
I saw no reason to lie as far as I was concerned life was pretty good I told her “whenever I’m sad my grandmother gives me karate chops”
this led to a full scale investigation and I was removed from the house for three days until they finally decided to ask how I got the bruises
news of this silly little story quickly spread through the school and I earned my first nickname
to this day I hate pork chops
I’m not the only kid who grew up this way surrounded by people who used to say that rhyme about sticks and stones as if broken bones hurt more than the names we got called and we got called them all so we grew up believing no one would ever fall in love with us that we’d be lonely forever that we’d never meet someone to make us feel like the sun was something they built for us in their tool shed so broken heart strings bled the blues as we tried to empty ourselves so we would feel nothing don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone that an ingrown life is something surgeons can cut away that there’s no way for it to metastasize
she was eight years old our first day of grade three when she got called ugly we both got moved to the back of the class so we would stop get bombarded by spit balls but the school halls were a battleground where we found ourselves outnumbered day after wretched day we used to stay inside for recess because outside was worse outside we’d have to rehearse running away or learn to stay still like statues giving no clues that we were there in grade five they taped a sign to her desk that read beware of dog
to this day despite a loving husband she doesn’t think she’s beautiful because of a birthmark that takes up a little less than half of her face kids used to say she looks like a wrong answer that someone tried to erase but couldn’t quite get the job done and they’ll never understand that she’s raising two kids whose definition of beauty begins with the word mom because they see her heart before they see her skin that she’s only ever always been amazing
he was a broken branch grafted onto a different family tree adopted but not because his parents opted for a different destiny he was three when he became a mixed drink of one part left alone and two parts tragedy started therapy in 8th grade had a personality made up of tests and pills lived like the uphills were mountains and the downhills were cliffs four fifths suicidal a tidal wave of anti depressants and an adolescence of being called popper one part because of the pills and ninety nine parts because of the cruelty he tried to kill himself in grade ten when a kid who still had his mom and dad had the audacity to tell him “get over it” as if depression is something that can be remedied by any of the contents found in a first aid kit
to this day he is a stick of TNT lit from both ends could describe to you in detail the way the sky bends in the moments before it’s about to fall and despite an army of friends who all call him an inspiration he remains a conversation piece between people who can’t understand sometimes becoming drug free has less to do with addiction and more to do with sanity
we weren’t the only kids who grew up this way to this day kids are still being called names the classics were hey stupid hey spaz seems like each school has an arsenal of names getting updated every year and if a kid breaks in a school and no one around chooses to hear do they make a sound? are they just the background noise of a soundtrack stuck on repeat when people say things like kids can be cruel? every school was a big top circus tent and the pecking order went from acrobats to lion tamers from clowns to carnies all of these were miles ahead of who we were we were freaks lobster claw boys and bearded ladies oddities juggling depression and loneliness playing solitaire spin the bottle trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal but at night while the others slept we kept walking the tightrope it was practice and yeah some of us fell
but I want to tell them that all of this shit is just debris leftover when we finally decide to smash all the things we thought we used to be and if you can’t see anything beautiful about yourself get a better mirror look a little closer stare a little longer because there’s something inside you that made you keep trying despite everyone who told you to quit you built a cast around your broken heart and signed it yourself you signed it “they were wrong” because maybe you didn’t belong to a group or a click maybe they decided to pick you last for basketball or everything maybe you used to bring bruises and broken teeth to show and tell but never told because how can you hold your ground if everyone around you wants to bury you beneath it you have to believe that they were wrong
they have to be wrong
why else would we still be here? we grew up learning to cheer on the underdog because we see ourselves in them we stem from a root planted in the belief that we are not what we were called we are not abandoned cars stalled out and sitting empty on a highway and if in some way we are don’t worry we only got out to walk and get gas we are graduating members from the class of fuck off we made it not the faded echoes of voices crying out names will never hurt me
of course they did
but our lives will only ever always continue to be a balancing act that has less to do with pain and more to do with beauty.
"I just watched a news blip about a new teenage girl/young female obsession: the "thigh gap", ie: in order to be beautiful, you must have a large gap between your thighs when your knees are touching. It's one thing if your body is naturally made this way, but it's another to starve yourself to attain an unnatural shape. I can guarantee, no man every looked at Kate Upton, Cindy Crawford, Claudia Schiffer, or Marilyn Monroe and thought: "Man, she's hot, but I wish she had more thigh gap."
Joan Rivers - Someone who has gone to great lengths to alter her own appearance through multitudes of plastic surgeries and gets paid to make fun of people based on how they look. A case-study in no self-esteem. Look in the mirror, Joan. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kc67DurG2I
Ms. Rivers negatively stigmatized Adele by making a hand gesture about Adele’s physical size. She later went on to say to Mr. Letterman, “What is her song? Rolling in the deep? She should add fried chicken.” Joan then continued to elaborate on a conversation she had with Adele where the singer expressed nervousness regarding singing at the show due to trouble swallowing. Joan commented to Mr. Letterman regarding this story by saying “Oh yea, you can swallow,” while at the same time making the hand gesture referencing Adele’s physique.
The OAC feels Ms. Rivers’ comments were highly inappropriate and only further stigmatizes individuals affected by the disease of obesity. Ms. Rivers’ forte for commenting on Hollywood’s fashion taste does not provide her the right to mock someone’s physical appearance. The OAC now wants YOU to respond to this issue as a “Bias Buster.”
Share Your Opinion!
If you feel Ms. Rivers’ comments were stigmatizing, please contact her at the number or email listed below: