The Five Stages of Fat Acceptance

"OK. I'm ready to go," said Walt, his suitcase standing in the front hall. He was flying to Santa Barbara for the weekend, to visit with his mother while his sister and her husband were off on vacation for a few days.

I'd lost track of time. I looked down at what I was wearing--my shorts, which I wear in the house on these triple-digit days.

Shit. No time to change into long pants. I had a bunch of errands I was going to run on my way home from the airport and I hate to wear short when I'm running around town, 'cause I look like...you know...one of those fat ladies wearing ugly shorts.

I mentally went through a list of my options as we drove out to the Sacramento Airport and finally decided--the heck with it. I'd just get the stuff done I wanted to do and get into my "detached place" and forget about what people were thinking as they looked at me.

I had arrived at "fat acceptance."

Long ago, Elizabeth Kubler Ross determined the 5 stages of grief, which actually work whether your grief is over the death of a person, the loss of a friendship, or any other situation which causes you great grief. I realized that they also apply to weight.

1. Denial. "I haven't gained all that much, have I?" I haven't stepped on a scale and I've had to buy larger clothes, but I'm sure it's not that bad and, like any good addict, "I can stop eating bad food whenever I want."

2. Anger. "How could I have let this happen to me?" Look at that panniculus. (look it up) I was on my way to being "normal" again when I started to slip, and I just couldn't stop eating. I'm so MAD at myself!

3. Bargaining. "Oh that thing looks so good. Let me just let go for tonight and I promise I'll make it up tomorrow..."

4. Depression. In the five stages of grief, this is described as "overwhelming feelings of hopelessness, frustration, bitterness, self pity, mourning loss of person as well as the hopes, dreams and plans for the future. Feeling lack of control, feeling numb." You can see how this easily translates to being fat.

5. Acceptance. You wake up one morning and your husband asks you to drive him to the airport. You're wearing shorts and it's going to be 100 degrees out and you have to stop at a store on your way home. You sigh and say "screw it" and get into the car and when you get to the store, you try not to think about what people are thinking about you as they watch you looking at the food displays.

Ironically, as I was reading through the Five Stages of Depression, the page was about death and yet at the bottom was some sort of link about flat bellies and the link led me here.

Dogs - Weight - Memes

No, this is not about a "dog weight meme." It starts with the sad/happy news that Bissell has a forever home. This one was difficult for me. He was the first puppy that I've been "that" close to suggesting we adopt, which is surprising even to me, since I didn't particularly like him when I first brought him home. He was "ok," but he was replacing Chunk, whom I loved so much (but would never have thought of adopting). But Bissell really grew on me and the longer he was here, the more I started to wonder if we could, possibly adopt him.

But I knew that if we were to adopt him, (a) we could no longer foster puppies, and (b) I'd eventually regret it.

Ashley said she had two really good applications for him and had to choose from between them. The family who adopted him lives in the Sacramento area and they have a 7 year old Whippet. I've often wondered if Bissell had some Whippet in him. He was getting so tall and lanky and he had that built-for-speed body shape of a Whippet. Watching him "whip" around here chasing Lizzie did nothing to change that opinion.

I didn't get to meet the family, because Walt had the car and I asked Ashley to come and pick him up, rather than bring him to Petco myself. She offered to take me with her, but I decided to say my goodbye to Bissell here at home. There was a tear or two, but I know there will be new puppies. In fact, Ashley offered me a puppy that needs a home, but since my friend Mary will be here for a visit next week and then Walt and I are going to Santa Barbara again, I told her I'd prefer to wait until after we return from the next (last) baby shower.

My little puppy is now settling in to a new home. I missed him when I went to sleep last night--no puppy on my feet or climbing up onto my shoulder to pat my face before going to sleep, but I'm very happy that he has a new home.

The second subject of this entry is a book meme which I may actually have done before, but I read it again in Alan's book blog and I thought it would be an interesting way to give you a taste for James Lipton's book, "Inside Inside." The instructions are simple: Take a book, go to page 123, look for the 5th sentence and copy the next three sentences. So here is an excerpt from Lipton's book:

Of all the classical arts, dance is the most frankly erotic--when it chooses to be, and sometimes when it doesn't. I tried to describe the dance's sensual roots in my novel 'Mirrors,' asking, what is a classical pas de deux, in Swan Lake or The Sleeping Beauty or Giselle or Jerome Robbins' Afternoon of a Faun, but 'he basic configuration of dance and life: one male, one female, squared off face to face, one on one.

And here I was at the barre, in tights, constrained only by a dance belt, executing a grand plie in second position behind an exquisite eighteen year old danseuse in an identical inviting position.

Dancing is only one of Lipton's talents, which include acting, directing, producing, TV hosting, song writing, being a pilot, and, for a brief time, a pimp in Paris, among many other things. He's also married to Miss Scarlet...the real Miss Scarlet, the picture on the card in the game Clue.

Reading in the Observation Car on the train

And finally, here she goes again, folks. I think this is the third or fourth time that I've decided to deal seriously with weight in this journal. Stick around long enough and you discover how I live my life in circles. If I had known how this journal was going to be around, would have named it something like "YoYo Living."

So here's the deal. First of all my family, for some reason, wants to make sure I'm around for a long time and, having been reading all of my complaints about being dragged to the gym occasionally, they have decided to buy me a treadmill for my birthday. At first I protested that it was too much for all of them who are struggling financially, but Ned is adamant and I'm starting to get excited about it, for all sorts of reasons. Mostly that I won't have to actually dress for the gym; I won't feel self-conscious standing next to a jogging 80 year old when I'm plodding along at my own pace; I won't worry about accidentally bumping into Dr. G and not living up to his critique; but most of all, with a treadmill here in house, I will use it every day. It will become a constructive reason to procrastinate doing anything else in the house.

The need to get more exercise has become more important now that I've decided to go with the women's group to France and Italy next year. It will give me a year and a half to get to the point where I can walk down the driveway to pick up the newspaper without getting winded. I'm really excited about the trip, especially now that Jeri has decided she wants to come too. She's figuring out if she can do it, but I'm very hopeful. Charlotte's 3 daughters are coming, all of whom are good friends of Jeri's. The trip is already turning into something exciting.

Here's the rough itinerary:

day 1 - leave from US
day 2, 3 and 4 in Paris
day 5 in Provence
day 6, 7 and 8 in Nice
day 9 zip to Italy (doesn't specify method) and drive to Cinque Terre
day 10 in Santa Margherita Ligure (Cinque Terre)
day 11, 12 and 13 in Florence and nearby areas.
day 14 fly home

At the same time that I'm wanting to get in shape for the trip, Peach is talking about going back on Weight Watchers, not going to meetings, but using the materials she (and I) already have and forming our own support group. We'll check in with each other each Friday and compare notes and weights.

AND also at the same time, Ned's sister-in-law has started "The Biggest Loser" group, a bunch of people who have each put in $20 and at the end of six months, the one who loses the most gets all the money. I've joined that group too. Maybe I can earn money to help with expenses on the trip.

So it appears that all the stars are in alignment and that once again, this is the time to see if I can do it again, like I did for the Australia trip.

And yes, I realize this is like deja vu for those of you who have been reading this journal for years, but...hey!...my readership always goes up when I start writing about weight, so it seems inevitable that I'll do it again.

I Hate Myself

Well, it's finally happened. I knew it would happen sooner or later, but it's happened just at the absolute worst time.

The first baby shower for Laurel is February 23. There is another shower, for couples, in March and Walt and I have been talking about flying down together for that. (That means I can split up all the things I already have for the baby into two different showers so it doesn't look so overwhelming! Or I could just go shopping again :) )

Express Jet has just started low-cost flights from Sacramento to Santa Barbara. It only costs $69 one way. That puts it on a par with the cost of driving the 8 hours to Sacramento and whatever it may cost over the cost of gas is more than made up by the ability to get there in only an hour, rather than 8 hours (each way!). (Some people make it in less time, but I generally drive the speed limit and it takes me a good 7-8 hrs to get there.)

Previously, we had to either pay an astronomical amount to fly on another airline to Santa Barbara (something over $300) or fly to Burbank, rent a car, and drive 1-2 hrs up the coast to Santa Barbara, then drive back to Burbank for our return flight. Or take the train, which costs as much as the cheap flight and takes longer than driving (11 hrs, if the train is running on time).

The great thing about having Express Jet available to us now is that it would allow me to fly to Santa Barbara more often after the baby comes, so that I have a chance of not being a stranger to our grandchild.

Walt suggested I get an Express Jet frequent flyer card, certain that we would definitely get use out of it, since we would be traveling so often.

I eagerly signed up for the frequent flyer card and then went to book my first flight on Express Jet.

I have to review a show on Friday, so I would hop the 9 a.m. flight on Saturday morning and be in Santa Barbara in time for the shower, then leave mid-afternoon on Sunday. The mid-afternoon flight was more expensive (but better than having to drag someone out to the airport at 8 a.m. to get on the cheaper flight).

I was very excited when I booked the flight. I'm all set. Baby Shower here I come.

Then I checked the luggage requirements. I don't need really more than toiletries for an overnight, but I do have these shower gifts to bring too and wondered what, on a small plane, would be the restrictions.

The link about baggage took me to their general FAQ page.

And there it was.

Rules for "people of size." It appears that because I am a "person of size" (i.e., fat), I may not be permitted on the plane unless I buy a second seat.

Southwest has had this policy for a long time but I have never been questioned about it, despite the fact that I am obviously a "person of size." I am always afraid that someone is going to stop me before I get on a plane and tell me I'm too fat to fly, but since the flights are generally all full up, they can't very well sell me a second seat.

Being fatalistic, I am already seeing the handwriting on the wall. If I am able to get on this plane...this time...without having to purchase a second seat, what will happen when I go to fly home again? What will happen the next time? and the time after that?

I'm already seeing the number of times I can see our grandchild diminish because of the whole damn 300+ mile distance thing and because the airline may feel I'm too damn fat to fit on their plane.

Even if I were to start dieting again now, it would be over a year before I could be considered a regular size person. I was a "person of size" when I flew to Australia -- and I had lost 85 lbs. (but Singapore Airlines had no size restrictions).

I called Express Jet and they could give me no information, but after being initially sympathetic, the woman's voice turned very cold and I was told I really should buy a second seat; when I pointed out I would be sitting in a single seat row, she said I could "try it" at the airport and see what happens. I am sick at heart, fearing that I will be turned away at the gate and suffer not only the disappointment of not being able to get to the baby shower, but the humiliation of being rejected in front of all the other passengers. And even if I get on the plane to Santa Barbara, will it be a fight every time I have to board an Express Jet plane?

I may have finally done it. I may have eaten myself out of an early relationship with my long-awaited, already much loved grandchild.

The whole thing makes me want to cry...and probably eat, dammit.

---

I've cancelled my flight, my boss has given me the weekend off, and I'm going to take the train to Santa Barbara. I called Express Jet to cancel the flight. There is a $50 cancellation fee, which they would not waive even though it was only because of their rules that I cannot fly. I explained that it had been my intent to use their plane at least once a month for the next couple of years and she said she was very sorry they could not do business with me.

Fuck 'em!