Fat ass can be – that be me

Yeah F being fat

I love all my fluffy friends, I truly, truly do but it hurts to be fat.  It just hurts. It did for me anyway.

So as a disclaimer, I apologize up front. If I’m in-your-face honest with my feelings, they are my feelings. If you don’t share my sentiment on being big, then I will agree to disagree.

I dislike being fat very much and I warn you now, you might be offended if you’re fat. If I hate myself, why wouldn’t I hate you? Just kidding….everyone knows I don’t really hate, I just want to explain this with my own feelings in mind, not caring what anyone else thinks. I did hate myself for being fat,  and I still do hate the mind-bending changes we go through when we live as larger persons.

And I can’t come up with a politically correct term for fat. It is called ‘fat’ isn’t it? Throughout this article on being fat, on my big journey, I show you how I came to terms with my size, how I lost the weight, and how I want to hold your own hand to your own success, if you even want to lose weight because I assure you, you are still beautiful!

You know, some of the nicest people are big persons and I’d rather be fat than an asshole. But, me – I hated being fluffy more than anything.  I hated the way it made me feel when people looked at me. I felt weak and I knew I wasn’t.

A little background on this fat Kat

I understand and empathize with just about any minority or living creature with feelings. I’m way too deep for most people to understand me. Most people love me, though. There’s a rare-real-hater of Kat. I’m proud of that. I despise cruelty or unkindness on any level, Even though I can be, at times, cruel and unkind, I recognize it quickly and turn my thinking back to good. I am empathetic, but I am also imperfect.

I’ve valued my friendships, for the most part, even when I wasn’t so valued, but I’m not perfect and I can be a hell raiser if you piss me off. As much as I try to contain that ‘hell bent on justice’ attitude, I say, “please just don’t push me either…” I have a right to defend myself, and my own feelings, so if you’re being a bitch, or worse, a ‘dick’, if I’m in a good mood I’ll be assertive, bad mood equals sometimes aggressive, lol. I actually tremble when someone mistreats someone, I even shutter at myself sometimes.

I’m not crazy either. Some think of me as half-crazy, but no one who really knows me thinks I’m crazy at all.I prefer to call it a risk-taker, some call it unique, some even think I’m sweet. They recognize the not-so-nice me too. Oh but don’t worry. If you are cool yourself, you have no fears from this fat chick.

I’m really not afraid of much. I don’t know how to explain this, let’s see. It’s like, instead of jumping off a balcony into a pool, I prefer to get drunk and act stupid,, or take other kinds of risks. I’m not crazy, I’m just truly not afraid of much and I do, at times, take weird and very dangerous risks. Trust me, this chick can’t survive many more risks, so don’t worry about me if you’re related. No phone calls please, lol?

I can’t afford to take weird risks, I’m too old for weird risks. A look into my background quickly clears the way to understanding. One reason I am a risk-taker is because I lived a very ‘afraid’ childhood. I know my family will read this, but they also know my story, so I’m not ashamed. I think people should be proud of me for talking about myself so openly, at least I’m honest, and hope of helping someone else, if able. This is potentially a lot of the reason I became fat, to see if someone would love the real me inside. I don’t have time today to evaluate that feeling, but you can trust when I re-read this article, I will think about it again.

As a simple reminder, if you’re like me and had a marred or strange life events scarred you, then understand that trouble brings about triumph. All you need is a survivor attitude.

Everyone survives trauma in their life, hell death is traumatic, and everyone faces it, right?

What’s the problem then? One thing I know is this – I stay strong by being positively positive about almost everything. The times that I’ve broken down was when I felt mistreated, it’s as simple as that.  I know my sensitive ass, I’m a piece of blown glass sometimes, as long as handled with extreme care, remains beautiful. 🙂

What happened lately to push my fat ass to success

Rarely do I go to bed sad, yet for almost 4 years I’ve been terribly sad. Rather than blame it on fate, and a lot of agonizing bad-luck stuff, I realize now that most peoples lives have a lot of trauma in it and not just mine. It’s how we deal with it that makes us weak or strong, sad or happy.  And I’ve always been strong, for the most part, I truly think I’m one of the best people alive, strong but fragile too.

I became overly mad at myself for letting me get fat, and I still am if you can’t tell. It wasn’t until recently that I gained the super-charged-over-the-top-motivation to forge ahead in everything. It kind of reminds me of my divorce to my kids Dad, I came out a good person, where I felt they thought everything was my fault. Say what?

Anyway, I’m someone that can be hurt by someones misconception of what it means to be different. I don’t know if I explained it right earlier, but I’m ‘different’, lol.  I don’t like being judged because someone thinks I’m so different that I’m f’n crazy, because I’m far, far, far from being crazy, just fat or sad because of life events. When someone hurts me I am the type to – push my way through a crowd and get to the finish line before anyone else. I’m an incredible force, I know these things. No one will define me, no one.

Not all people are sad by the way. I’m sure you all know that some are very comfortable in their own skin. I prefer to call it sensitive. Treat me with respect and I’m putty in your hands. Any sign of disrespect and I might not want to fight with you, but I’ll have to.

Someone hurt me badly, just lately. Now I write with a vengeance, and although I’m not starving myself like my daughter thinks, I won’t let my body deter my happiness or self-worth again. This person will eventually be my friend again, if he’s smart he’ll know he won’t want to lose me completely but I’m afraid he already has. I’m a changed person because of him.  Don’t hate him though because he knows not what he did, lol.

I was mean once myself – I had no respect for fat people

I wasn’t always so nice about my own conception of being fat, though and it hurts me now more than ever.

As a teen, I made fun of fat people, oh yeah that would be me. Miss nicety nice, wasn’t always so nice. Ms. Mean still pops out at times, and I hate it more than anything.

I remember wondering how anyone could be fat. After all, its our own will that pushes us to eat, or not work out. I felt deeply sorry for fat people, but would still make fun behind their back, or wonder why they could live like that. Weren’t their bones miserable beneath the weight?  Unable to move about freely, unable to breath correctly. It was a sickness I felt, and I was mean to fat people, oh yes, Ms. Nice was really sort of Mean.

I called myself a fat ass and many other bad names, when I was fat. Well of course I did. I didn’t understand it. I liked being praised as a pretty little girl, as a child everyone always thought I was beautiful. Of course they did, every child is beautiful. Still, once fat, I felt anything BUT beautiful. I felt sick. I spent my entire life caring for myself, going the extra nine yards to be one of the most attractive person in the room. I loved attention and I got it. That was also sick, lol.

I grew to hate myself, believe it or not, severe, cruel hate is more like it. If you only knew. I hate being mean.

I had nothing good to say to myself, inside my head while thinking. It’s just not worth the pain and suffering. Why not lose the f’n weight, I mean damn! It only took two years to lose.  You can bet every one of the days were miserable. I still hurt over being fat. If I were a teen again, I’d throat punch anyone who ever said a bad word, or was unkind to someone fat. I’m fantasy throat punching myself right now for what I felt as a teenager.

A fat person is considered lazy, and its just not true in every case

Still, I hurt when someone makes fun of anyone and especially bigger persons. I’ve been there. I’ve lived it and I certainly didn’t love it. It was as if I were diseased, and I know I did look miserable. Hell yeah, I was miserable. I was fat, yet the worst thing about being fat was being considered lazy.

There’s a lot to think about right?

Rather than being lazy, I was an active diva inside my heart. I was an in-my-mind-diva until I grew fat, or so I thought, lol… Becoming fat took away all my self-esteem and confidence. Or did it? I was still the same strong person, I always was. And, I was confident I would lose the weight and I did.  Remember, once you are big its very, very difficult to lose the extra pounds.  You have no value, you often feel despair. It’s difficult to be alive in your mind when you’re fat because you often feel worthless.

I’m still 30-40 pounds off my target goal and I know soon I’ll feel totally powerful, because of how I transformed by body and how much work and struggle, self-control and all the best qualities a person can have, how much of that it took to lose the weight…wow.

I’m writing this article because I love myself again

Losing weight is great for growing a healthy mind and self-esteem. We really do feel prettier, and more alive. Remember, I said something happened for me to finish this weight off for good? I only have 30 pounds to go, right?  I’m  writing this article right now, because I recently lost someone I loved, yes loved, very much. I want to use the same power I remember I used to lose the thought of him, and transfer those skills to losing the rest of this weight loss and other self-improvement journey.

I want to draw on every step I had to take to lose my love for him and transfer it to the power of losing the weight, and then keep that power to stay out of love.He had a lot of charm, I now see, and a lot of demons all his own. I get that no one is perfect, but of course I got all the blame for his departure. We were just friends anyway right?

The bottom line is this. He has been mean to me since he left, and has a rare kind word to say. Instead of understanding my hurt he was cruel. He tried to crush me and he did, or wait – he almost did.

I still feel like a fat ass, no matter how much weight I am losing now. It will be damn hard for me to ever trust anyone again. I have enough real friends, I don’t need any more. Except for the true love that I eventually find, I won’t need to build another real friendship if I ever live, that’s it.  He ended it with a big bang by telling me I’ll always be fat and disgusting. This relationship turned out to be another trauma, to say the least.

It’s over, I’ve fought for everything else with a vengeance, but I won’t fight for him anymore. I don’t hate him at all. I understand his anger when he lashed out so cruel on my special day. His friendship never existed or he would have long since tried to make amends, and he hasn’t. Instead he prefers to see me with my head spinning off like the f’n exorcist. I’m in my right mind because no one will define me. No one.

How I became to weigh 340 pounds

I never hated myself ever. Well, that’s not true, I started to love myself when I was young and early on in high school, I left home.  That I won’t explain, the story is long and hard, but for times sake, understand that I truly do love myself and for the most part, I always have.

Why shouldn’t I, I’m great right?

I always knew I was pretty, or so I was told. I was always fluffy but never truly fat until I became sick about 10 years ago. I had bilateral axilliary surgery to remove all the lymph glands under my arms. They told me that it would be like a radical mastectomy and the most painful surgery I would ever face.

They weren’t freaking kidding either. It almost killed me.

I was bed-fast and couldn’t move for almost a year. My husband fed me well in my slumber. I gained at least 100 pounds the first year, and more after. My highest weight was 340.  I was literally dying from the glandular problem and now dying because I was fat ass, or so some would have called me, no one ever did to my face, except for me. I called myself a fat ass but no one else ever did.

I would always be ‘fat and disgusting’. I’m so happy he said that. I totally forgive him because he was upset. In this world, if you’re fat, you can bet people make fun of you. I will never forgive him for all the hurt he caused me,…I’ll never forget rather, and I’m sure he won’t forget my crazy ass any time soon.

My fat journey is a brave one

So here goes. Here goes my bravery. Looking back at old photos, I am totally embarrassed to show them, but I am going to show them, right here in this article.  Only because I have been crying for a week straight since he called me these names. He meant it, I know he did. He isn’t the type to say mean things like that, or to me anyway. He’s been so horribly mean and to me, I just don’t get it.

Even talking about it makes my heart pump. He said what he knew would hurt me most and when people knock me down I always prove them wrong, always.

Maybe I’m blessed with my stubbornness, because it’s what helps me  get through anything. I never want to be jaded or angry just because something knocked me down, either. Getting upset only lessons our value.  Since my heart was broken, and on top of it, I drank again, I’m reeling these last weeks and now i write. I know my fault in this story. There is no question I’m part to blame.

If there’s one thing I know….I’m one of the truest of the brave hearts that ever lived.

I’m brave, I’m so freaking brave.

I love me for all I’ve been through and never failing or falling back to anything after I worked through it. I did break down though, and in a big way. I’m confident now, that anything I find out bad about myself I’ll change because through the years I feel like I’ve blossomed into one of the most beautiful persons I’ve ever met. I do love me, but I didn’t when I was fat.

How true friends help us through our own life journey  – and we return the favor in big ways

Tonight I spent the night with my roommate. She’s an amazing person, I am sure of it. I don’t distrust her on any level. We laugh and have an awesome life together. I had been crying for a week. Every morning she leaves, I’m crying. Every night she comes home I’m crying. Tonight when she came home she mentioned again how much she loved it here and with me. We’re not gay, lol…but she’s an awesome friend for life, I’m sure.

Right now I’m blessed with everything I need. While we were chatting I realized that my broken heart had knocked me down to the ground. Already struggling with another issue, and a really f’d up life, I still never want to feel sorry for self. I know everyone has it hard, I know everyone has a cross to bear.

Take a look at how big I became

fat-kat

 

Now take a look at me – after losing nearly 200 pounds of fat

At present I’m 175 pounds down, with about 30 more to go. I’m 57 and most people tell me I look much, much younger. I’m happy for my transformation. Anyone can do anything, always. God bless and good luck if you’re overweight. It’s unhealthy, but it doesn’t make you ugly. Remember, we’re all beautiful, no matter how big or small.

After you view my current photos, (at present I weight 168, later I will post more photo’s once I get my skin reduction surgery done).

Please view the photos below and stay tuned for a final section or article, “Let me hold your hand” where I take you by the hand to help you raise your self esteem, step-by-step, and counsel you on your weight loss journey.

I spent many months preparing this material. My hope is it will provide solid instruction on how to lose weight quickly and still remain healthy. It did take two years, but I found small ways to stay happy, while I shed the pounds. By building your self esteem in other ways, while you lose weight, you will be giving yourself the motivation to continue.

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