It's not what you are eating, it's what's eating you…

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(pic of me taken at Downtown Minneapolis Target (whole other blogs about my love hate relationship with Target, coming up) 7-1-2017.

Here’s what Google and search engines terms on WP tell me what you wanna know about me:
IF you’re a fat person hater (more about that, in THIS blog), Yeah, I am fat as fuck, over 15 1/2 years after gastric bypass surgery AND my sentence syntax still sucks, as well as YOUR search engine skills (and YOUR psyche) really SUCK, as I’m not hiding on social media, this is far from the first/current full body pic, that you’ve managed not to found out about me, or anything else “hatable” about me.

IF you’re a weight loss/weight loss surgery peep who hates on people in the community (many of you don’t, that’s why I still co-exist in the wls communities :)), I ALREADY know you won’t EVER be like me, with complications and more importantly you won’t ever gain ANY of your weight back, like me AND at 2 1/2 years status post of weight loss surgery of your choice( the average length of time post surgery of my community of wls haters) , you ALREADY know everything, so congrats on both your XXX lbs gone FOREVER and being a bariatric surgical PRODIGY!!!

And fucking FINALLY, if you’re a Fat Acceptance advocate, I still defend my right to lose weight and anyone’s elses and find thin bashing STILL just as repugnant as fat bashing and/or not accepting and being respectful of people’s right to do with their OWN bodies, their business, so yeah, I’m epically failing as a FA, too.

NOW that we got the fun of BODY POLITICS outta the way, wanna talk about just good ole fashion “normal” (heh!) politics????)

***Trigger Warning/s: Even though this blog is more of an update/personal nature blog than activism, because I talk about serious subjects, even when I’m venting/ranting, which if a picture explanation, is just THAT wordy and ranty, I have a feeling that this will be much more of a “fun” blog to write, than it will be to read.

It’s too bad  I can’t rent my blog/me out, as a sedative.

HOWEVER, even when “venting” , I talk about serious subjects and sometimes when NOT in “activist” mode, make a little fun of them (my own issues). IF you’re easily triggered by serious topics and/or are a danger of hurting yourself or others, PLEASE seek professional help in acute care facility for evaluation and treatment. Also, if you’re triggered by profanity, please don’t read. Thanks!!!!***

Okay, with above business being taken care, I’m kinda pissed that I couldn’t title this blog “Fuck You 2017 and Fuck You, 47th year”.  Like I did with my birthday blog from last December. Well, I mean I could, it’s still a free country (no,not really) and there is still freedom of speech (no, not really, EITHER).

It’s more like there’s consequences (depending on who you are and I think because of KARMA (which I’m still NOT sure I believe in) or not, depending on who you are, or who you aren’t.

Or a scary amount of disproportionate consequences (or not) from your actions or lack of actions, regardless of how well meaning, misguided, to the downright evilness of intentions, depending on the person.

That’s the FUCKING problem, I’m dealing with, nowadays. I know what my problems are, genuine and irrational. I know how lucky I am, in a lot of ways. I’m still ALIVE, everyone I love the most is still ALIVE and my life is NOT the LIVING HELL that it was in 2007 to 2011.

But as the oldest and ongoing winner of the Ms. “has a fucking frightening lack of responsibilities in the” Universe pageant, my life ain’t the fucking bowl of cherries, it should be.

Or it’s one that I keep choking on the pits, so to speak.

When I think of my life, exactly 14 years ago, I was a full time employed single Mom of 2, with a great new baby girl and an awesome almost 11 year old son, who just returned back to work, after a 3+ month maternity leave (DAMN, I USED to be really good with money, then) my life wasn’t anything resembling this fucking hard, as it is now.

While I count my blessings for what great people my children have turned out to be and how sad I am, that I had so little to do with that (if you’re a new reader, that’s covered in many previous blogs).

I’m just really sad that this just seems to be such a fucked up scary world for them to exist in. And I can’t do much to protect them from that, except warn them of potential hazards, not going overboard, as I really don’t want to sully any kind of more positive outlook on life, they may have, compared to my outlook, but at the same time, I don’t want life to give them a big ole punch (ok, many fucking punches) in the gut, that they will hopefully survive (as well as THRIVE)  better, than their mother seemed capable of.

I just don’t want that to be my fucking legacy to them, my legacy to myself and/ or the world, for the matter(s).

And while I’ve accumulated, some (ok, very little) wisdom that normally comes with age and know who I am and am secure with who I am, as well as messed up about how my life turned out, I don’t want my legacy and/or my current identity tied up as “the loving single mother who had the great life experience of having 2 great kids, sharing a plane with Princess Diana (in 1996, also in other blogs) and the screwed up luck of having mental health issues that I was unaware of at the time in 2001, going into a gastric bypass, that I was lucky enough to have a brilliant surgeon who performed a technically performed bariatric surgery that I responded physically HORRIBLY to and nearly died from, and lost my crap and nearly got committed (also in other blogs) who ended up needing a gastric bypass reversal and is now a very wordy medical and mental health activist”…..

YIKES!!! That was a mouthful!!! It’s also the reason why the owner of this brain is not on Twitter, very much. Let alone social media (which I’ve written other blogs about) very much anymore.

I get that in this wordy ranty blog of mine, it’s taking me now 1100 words to make a point/s.

And like no one, except for me (on occasion) has that kind of attention span in 2017. And most people don’t have the time or the inclination to dwell on matters of this nature, even though as UNRELATABLE as most of my blogs are, to most people, I apparently resonate with quite a few, as my blog has been read in 87 countries (fun fact!!!) and 6 continents (Seriously, WTF, Antarctica, don’t people dwell about serious shit at 3 a.m, too???).

Apparently, some of my blogs, such as my most read blog, to date which the “The Project Harpoon People Can GO Fuck Themselves” (way to go ME, for keeping it classy and concise, right??) which I found myself the target of a group of haters that popped up after the Harpoon peeps got shut down on Twitter.

It’s not the first time I had found myself a target of haters or Fat Acceptance hatred. It was the first time of being eviscerated by people too mean, stupid and hateful to find out anything other about me, than I am wordy blogger who blogs about Fat Acceptance and had a gastric bypass (that and a bunch of other stuff about me, was in particular blog) that I apparently epically failed and was a bitter, ugly, fat as fuck who can’t write a simple sentence.

I guess that serves me right for finding that group, when “Googling” myself at 3 a.m. (both under my name and unstapledlisa) and may I suggest that you dear reader, don’t do that. “Google” yourself, that is. If you’re that bored, feel free though to read the long mean and hateful thread at Voat, under “FatPeopleHate” that I found myself being discussed quite viciously. If that isn’t enough for you, I also can be found at the biggest trainwreck site.

I’m at  almost 1400 words (FUCK!!!)  and I’m finally am going to make my points!!! YAY!!!

I still at rotten overripe,oversized  and old age and person (by weight and looks) at an average size 14 and 47 1/2 (in age, not size, not that their is anything wrong with that, you fucking stupid and mean body haters, see I can fight back, too???)  get judged way more for what I look like and what I weigh (depending how fat or not fat enough, depending on who you’re asking) than anything I ever fucking  did or anything I ever fucking said.

By both people who know me well and people who don’t fucking know me at all. Or people who’s responsibilities are to know me better and/or not judge me (i.e. medical professionals/see past blogs on “md-ptsd”, although I advocate for clinically trained medical and mental health professionals, as they are their essence, human beings).

I get my own barriers and my unique barriers in resolving some of my issues. I even have the understanding of others barriers. And have empathy for most people.

EXCEPT for fucking  murder/suicide perpetrators, rapists, pedophiles and people who hate on any class of people for any reason, whether its on me or others and I can live with that.

I’m just having so much fucking trouble adapting to a world, that seems as it gets so technologically advanced, people become more scary and uncivilized to me. And I can’t do anything about that, other than to bring awareness, that while I know my own issues, that it could help, with removing stigma about so many things, for others to be aware of their own issues that could possibly interfere with others right to a safe and peaceful enjoyment life, too.

(That’s why this blog wasn’t titled “FUCK YOU 2017 and FUCK YOU 47th year”, it’s titled “State of Misgrace” because it’s scary enough for me to feel I still feel so badly about things in my past that are currently shaping my current and future, but that others “State of Misgrace”, ain’t helping, either. Or they’re in a “State of Disgrace” and they don’t care)

Not just for my sake. But for those who I love the most (i.e. my children) and so many innocent others, where we at a time, never had so much that should unite us, but is also dividing so many, at the same time.  Or that HATRED is uniting people, way more than acceptance (and again, if that doesn’t work, try apathy, yes, I said apathy not empathy. you don’t have to like, let alone love on something you’re predisposed to hate on) should be and how terrifying I find all of this to be.
(see, for the 2 of you, non-haters, the above 5 paragraphs is the worthwhile reason I wrote this blog/you were rewarded for your patience)

How the FUCK do we FIX that!?!?

If you know, feel free and tell me, so. Try to be respectful about it, though, OK? I don’t go either in others online or offline spaces to make them feel unsafe. Either intentionally or unintentionally (though you now have a current pic, of what I look like, if you see me out and about). I know that this obscenely overweight smoking redhead does her fair share of scaring people, unintentionally, when out and about, in Downtown Minneapolis where I reside (which if that’s the case, stay home, because I’m definitely not the scariest thing  that you’ll encounter down here), I respect the right of others peaceful and safe enjoyment of their own lives, both in their private, public, offline and online spaces.

And wish that fucking everyone realized that. And now, over 2000 words, later, I made fucking finally made my point/s.

Note: If the rantiness and wordiness of this blog didn’t give you the clue, that I’m absolutely not going to give a shit, let alone post anything that has no resemblance to my “agreeing to disagree” respectfully stance, don’t waste my time or your own, by sending me something that I won’t read and I won’t publish, both in hatred of me, or any other.

 

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