Perhaps I was meant to be fat?
Always waking hungry
craving breakfast as
And done digesting that
After eating this
Until an evening meal
Since writing the above lines, in 1981, I continued avoiding the gym.
Later, chronic illness deterred exercise.
Yet I remained fairly slim.
Until around 2014.
Once consulted, doctors said expanding waist size often happened during “middle age”.
Next, an unusual type of vertigo attacked.
The scales went into reverse.
Whatever I ate, weight loss persisted. Alarmingly fast.
(From peaking at 87kg (192lbs/13.9) I dropped 27kg (60lbs): to 60kg (130lbs/9.2).)
By 2015, very weak, it became harder lifting my feet.
I began shuffling along.
A few people wondered if I was dying.
(Such thoughts also worried me.)
A test revealed severe pancreatic insufficiency.
I had been wasting away due to malnutrition.
Because my stomach failed at digesting food.
Doctors focussed on this skinny state.
Though I haven’t gained the weight back, despite years of enzyme supplements.
There are positive sides:
Being nearer a semi-goth look.
Without white makeup.
My cheekbones show more.
I quite like them.
School uniform could fit again.
So, that’s something.
As an M.E./CFS sufferer
(across three decades)
I’ve moved from ill and fat.
To ill and thin.
Thin seems better.
I’d sooner be well.
Frankly, I felt too sick and depressed for blogging, this week.
But, didn’t want to give in, and miss a chance of interacting with you all.
So decided on posting, anyway.
Comments are always VERY welcome! 🙏
Art on the blog is mine. Hope you like it?
Thanks for reading. 🙂
( Anxiety / art / beauty / blog / depression / illness / life / mental health / poem / poetry / reading / thoughts / writing )