Jolly Holiday by Martha Thomases – Brilliant Disguise | @MDWorld

December 7, 2013 Martha Thomases 2 Comments

My pants feel tight.  It must be December.

My husband used to say that he could tell what time of year it was by looking at my body.  In the spring and summer, I’d be more toned.  In the fall and winter, I’d be more soft.  Even though my diet didn’t change much, nor did my exercise schedule, the amount of walking I did (often reduced because I didn’t want to go out in cold and snow) made enough difference that another person would notice.

The traditional gluttony that accompanies the harvest and solstice festivals doesn’t help.  I get it.  It’s dark and few things are growing.  We want to gather together, keep each other warm.  Food and drink help this process.

Anyway, this is on my mind because I’m preparing for my own holiday tradition of abundance, fretting over how much is enough.  When I invite people into my home, I want them to feel welcomed.  I want them to feel festive.  I want them to feel loved, or at least liked.  I want there to be enough refreshments so that everyone has something to do with her hands.

I don’t want to make them ill.  Or kill them.

A recent article in an Australian magazine, written by a doctor who works with the morbidly obese,   This isn’t a fashion magazine article about the benefits of fitness or a low-calorie diet or any such pap.  This is a first-person account from someone who has to deal with people whose obesity is causing serious medical problems or seriously affecting their quality of life.  She says,  “If you are overweight, you cost 25% more per year to keep healthy than a slim person. If you are obese, you cost 45% more.”

Morbid obesity affects more than just the individual.  The author further states, “There are other costs: the fatter you are the greater your ecological footprint. Globally, we are carrying 18.5 million tonnes of excess fat under the skin of the overweight and obese, which – if it were still food rather than adipose tissue  – would feed 300 million people for life. Fat people have been compared to petrol-guzzling cars. I feel terrible typing these sentences. I apologise; they are ugly.”

We’re not talking here about people who are heavy, or who are overweight but happy with their lives.  We’re talking about people who have sought out a doctor for help, because they are sick.

People with food problems are very similar to people with alcohol, drug or gambling problems.  An alcoholic who starts drinking can’t stop until the alcohol is gone or he is passed out.  A compulsive gambler can’t stop gambling until she has no more money or credit.  A person with an eating problem may, like the person described in the above article, eat an entire pizza for dinner after consuming an entire bowl of guacamole with a spoon.

And it can be hard to resist the temptation, when there are liquor stores and bars everywhere, when beer is advertised on every media every moment of the day.  Or when casinos beckon, and state lotteries sell tickets on every corner.  However, with sufficient will power and support, one can resist those temptations.  But you have to eat.

There are certain foods that, if you put them in front of me, I have to eat until they are gone.  Cashews, chocolates, malted milk balls, cheese popcorn, chips — the list is long and not particularly good for me.  I’ve tried to eat them in reasonable amounts, but I can’t.  So I keep them out of my house, and try to limit those occasions when I can’t avoid contact.

But why do we overeat?  The article talks about people who eat past the point of vomiting.  People who continue to eat even though they are so full they are in pain.  Why do we do this?

I think there is no single answer to this (and looking for a single answer is part of the problem), but I have an insight from the time I ate an entire pizza (although not one a half-meter in diameter) in one sitting.  I had just come from the hospital, where my husband had been diagnosed with the cancer that would kill him.  He was in-patient, and the apartment was empty.  I ordered the pie, my favorite, with three different kinds of mushrooms and truffle oil, expecting it to last for more than one night, as every other pizza I’d ever ordered did.  Instead, I ate the whole thing.  I hated myself, but I kept going back to the box for more.  My too-full stomach felt like being wrapped in my mother’s arms.  All I needed was a pat on the back so I could burp and go to sleep.

In Dan Savage’s book, Skipping Towards Gomorrah, when he explores people who violate each of the seven deadly sins, the only ones who really freak him out are those who go in for gluttony.  He encounters people too fat to walk, who defend themselves and even consider themselves somewhat superior, saying they would rather read.

I like to read.  I read all the time.  But I love my legs, and I’m glad they work.  I’ve seen too many people, my father and my husband both, lose the ability to walk due to age or illness.  Anything I can do to keep my legs working is fine by me.

Media Goddess Martha Thomases eagerly anticipates her annual cream donut on Sunday.