I am classed as morbidly obese. At just under 21 stone in weight (133 kilo) and 5’ 7” (1,7 metres) in height I have a BMI of well over 35 and am therefore at risk of a multitude of illnesses with possibly fatal consequences.
So, how did I get this way? Well, I could blame my Gran. Gran used to take me for walks in the morning where she would buy me sweets and chocolates. I was then told to eat these on our way home and that I must eat my lunch ,as Mum must not find out I was getting these treats as she would have stopped it. This is true, she undoubtedly would.
I could blame my school. I left school chronically unfit as I was omitted from many sporting activities. This is partly because I was unpopular and therefore was not picked for teams, partly because I was not allowed to wear my specs. in those days on health and safety grounds (these were the days of glass specs.) and partly because I suffered from an inner ear imbalance that means my balance is completely wacky (it took me 3 years to learn to ride a bike and I still can not balance on roller-skates; as for ice-skate, forget it!). Thus other kids played sports, I did maths.
I could blame the national health system for the complete lack of support they provide. My doctor will weigh me, tell me to lose weight and hand me a diet sheet (containing a large quantity of foods I can’t eat as I am a lactose intolerant, nut-allergy sufferer as well as a faddy eater, probably due to the above issues not being recognised as problems in my youth leading to me being force (at school meals) to eat items that made me sick then to being told off for being ill as I (obviously) just did it to be awkward. (Ah, those wonderful school days people talk of. Happiest days of your life. Yes, sure.....). Then that is it, end of NHS support. Ditto all the diet companies, weight-watchers, etc.. Eat our way and stop being akward.
I could blame the stress of work, my depression, my P.T.S.D., my chronic anxiety, my emotionally abusive father, etc., etc..
But the truth is, the only person responsible for my weight is me. The only person who can do anything about it is me. I could go in for expensive options like surgery, gastric bands, etc. but the truth is, unless I have the willpower to follow the rules, these will not work either. If I have enough willpower for that, I can lose weight without such drastic options. These should and must be a last resort. So here we go. Day 1. 21 stone to start. It is one year to the Olympics in London. My goal is to have lost 4 stone when the Olympics start. A low goal but obtainable and realistic.
My weight. My damage. My blame.
My goal. My target. My aim.