LIFE LESSONS

Baby Steps OR Dog Training?

I had occasion to visit a family friend the other day- we'll call her Mary.

Mary is younger than me; in her early forties. She is also obese and... depressed. She's been this way most of her adult life. And I have lost count of the number of conversations I've had with her over the years- some of which have taken place over many hours. ALL of which have centred around her 'life' or rather lack of life, due to her weight/depression.

I've tried, through the years, to explain the symbiotic relationship between depression and food. She has NO medical/physical condition to excuse her from some hard facts: Obesity had made her infertile (as I discovered that day) and... was now killing her exponentially as one organ after another showed early exhaustion. The medications she is trialing one after the other are also destroying her mind.

She still lives with her parents. As the family 'failure' she has been cast in the role of victim and therefore provides her parents and siblings with plenty to moan about- never mind the fact THEY need this moaning... at the expense of their child's/sibling's well-being.

I was as I always am with her. Blunt. There's no empathy to be had from me. When she emerged from her room, (their house is in perpetual darkness with the outer security shutters down and inner curtains drawn; whenever we visit we sit outside to avoid the oppressiveness.)

I asked her: "So, how are you?"

"Not too good. It's the first time I've sat outside in ages."

"Why?"

"I got some bad news a few weeks back. I'm infertile. It knocked me about... and I... I..." She began to cry.

"Mary."

"Yes?"

"Hon, with all due respect, infertility is the least of your problems. You are past the age where natural conception is guaranteed and... you'd be putting your life, and that of your baby at high risk were you to fall pregnant now anyway. Right?"

"I know."

"And... there's no bloke to make a baby with anyway, ye?" She nodded. "So. Push that thought to the side for a moment. Let's re-focus on the real issue."

"Mt Everest..."

"Yep. You forgot." (This in reference to an earlier conversation some months back where I'd compared her weight loss to Mt Everest- and how she should not attempt to reach the top without first 'preparing' for it.)

"I get so overwhelmed! It's too much. Then I get tired- some days I don't even have the energy to get out of bed."

"Bullshit. Try again."

"Maybe it's the meds messing up my head... I don't know anymore." (She was trying her fourth different 'anti-depressant' for this year.)

"Maybe you've contracted your life so much that you need this drama- it's your only real testament to being alive? You have no positive sensory input but that's alright, you'll take pity and scorn and derision- better than nothing, am I right? Am I?"

"What do you mean?" She was clearly fumbling to follow.

"Take away your weight, with all its associated physical issues, and, your subsequent depression. What's left to you Mary?"

"Uhhh... Wait- you're saying I have become those things... yes, I think I get it! I have become my problems... I let them define me!"

"Yes..."

"So Mary is fat and depressed. That's who Mary is. Who I am!"

"That's not who Mary is; that's what Mary thinks defines who she is! You wasted half a lifetime living this definition, you wanna waste the other half too?"