[LMB] Fat shaming, slut-shaming, and special snowflakes

Eric Oppen ravenclaweric at gmail.com
Tue Dec 13 19:44:41 GMT 2016


If my life were better, I could probably drop weight.  I did for the few
months I worked at the Wal-Mart superstore down in Ames; a combination of
having _something to do with myself_ and being on my feet all day had a lot
to do with it, I think.  However, I've never been able to so much as get my
foot in the door on regular employment (a combination of factors fed into
that, including not being on campus my senior year of college, being
trapped in my poky home town, not having an "easy-to-sell" major, not being
in a fashionable minority, and the recession that has gripped much of the
Midwest since the 1970s) and now, they'd rather the work went undone than
give me a chance, even if I was willing to work for less.

I started ballooning up the summer before I went to China, mainly because
my mother was in intensive-care in the hospital down in Des Moines, and
since then, it's been a problem.  The thing is, if I don't eat as much as I
need to keep going (which, honestly, isn't _that_ much; I can and do do
without for as much as a couple of days at a time when I've a reason, like
being trapped on the stupid train going out to see my brother) I get
depressive.  As in, depressive enough to worry me.  I'd rather be fat than
sitting around thinking about how much nicer it would be to be dead.

As things stand, I hate my life, I dislike the place I live in and the area
I live in (my own preference, the which I will never have, is for _warm,
dry, and metropolitan_) I am constantly frustrated (being as poor as I am
is no fun at all, trust me on this) and that all translates into stress,
which shows up in various ways, including my weight.


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