Good morning/afternoon/evening, where-ever you are, readers, and good to see you again. Hope everyone had a pleasant day yesterday. Mine was…interesting, to say the least. I don’t plan to get super-confessional here, but I did, at last, receive an answer for a physical problem that’s bothered me most of my life and which I couldn’t quite understand.
You see, I’ve been fat most of my life. At one point I would have shied away from the word, used “heavy” or “overweight”, but it’s important to own reality so that it has less power over you and so I’ll just tell the truth here. Of course, being fat brings with it the usual share of stereotypes. Lazy, ignorant, unmotivated, stupid, what have you.
I never fully believed in those stereotypes, though at my darkest moments I surely did think that my weight made me less of a person and I know that some people would be glad to tell me that’s the truth and I should be ashamed of myself, but really I’m not. Putting aside any political implications of the pressures to conform and mockery that fat people receive, it never felt quite right to me, this matter of being fat.
Don’t get me wrong, I have some bad habits and have gone through periods where I was most certainly the agent of weight gain and bad health habits in my life. I say this not as a justification for my existence or what-have-you, to be a “good” fatty or anything like that. Simply acknowledging reality.
But the thing is, I’ve also had periods of extreme good health, regular exercise, and watching what I eat. I was a high school athlete, for God’s sake, and even then I just couldn’t shed the weight. Oh, my muscle tone was better, but I was a fat kid even when I was in track and baseball and playing sports in the backyard every day. Couldn’t tell you how many times I blamed myself for the situation and figured I must be doing something wrong that everyone else was doing right, even as I dieted at age 12 and watched my friends eat whatever they want.
So recently, I’ve stepped up my game, have been walking daily and really watching what I eat once again and while I would experience some weight loss, it often came right back on within a week without me changing a thing. The experience unnerved me so greatly that I saw my doctor and, well, that led to yesterday’s appointment. Turns out that, all along, my body was not absorbing a certain signaling hormone and that impeded my ability to gain muscle mass and consequently shed fat (among other issues). This is typically a genetic condition and it does have a treatment, thank goodness, it’s just a shame that it took this long to find out what was going on.
I had initially decided to keep the subject private, and there’s a lot that I’m not telling, but it’s enough of a life-changer that I felt the need to discuss it here. Still debating about whether to share the journey as we try to correct the issue.
Anyway, I guess that’s speaking truth to power or something. I’m sure I’m throwing open the gates to mockery or something, but I don’t care. There’s an element of emotional vindication here that’s too important to ignore.
Writing, though, that’s what we’re here to discuss, right? I have to confess, dear readers, that your “presence” over my shoulder has actually made me a more diligent writer. Oh, I harbored some concern over whether this blog might distract me from writing, and I definitely worried that writing about progress and my life might turn off readers, but I certainly did not expect these newer entries to keep me honest. I could have sat down after dinner last night and vegged out, but a little voice in the back of my head kept telling me that I could not return to you empty-handed after promising the end of Chapter 23 two days in a row. I forced myself to sit down at my computer and knock out that last page before doing anything else. So thanks for keeping me honest!
In-universe, I wrapped up the funeral scenes and am about to edit Chapter 24, one of the trickiest chapters in the whole damned book. You see, in these chapters we witness the evolution of the threesome that destroys Dean’s life, as well as the act itself, almost a footnote to the build-up and drama that follows. I’ve said before that this book is an intensely personal one, and this chapter is no exception. The events didn’t quite transpire in the same fashion as in the novel, but there are some common elements.
My past is kind of screwy.
Anyway, diving into that today. No promises on how long 24 might take, as it’s a long one, but I did commit to editing at least four pages today. We’ll see how that goes. I’ll share some more details about the scene tomorrow. See you then.