Tag Archive | weight

Truth is the best policy, though sometimes lying can stop a beating.

Empaths and Weight: Part 3

As in the previous entry, this is an examination of the causes of my self-esteem which I theorize contributed to my weight gain. It is written, not as a victim’s story, but so others may see themselves in me.

Nowadays I cringe at all the fundamental errors I made while trying to find a partner back in the 70 to mid-90s. It’s clear to me what I could have done differently, but while I was doing them, I could not see it at all. The entire process was not only a mystery to me, but I swore what I was doing was logical to me; hence it should be logical to everyone else.

I am also thankful I didn’t succeed as it would not have brought me any happiness, at least not after the initial short term.

As stated, even though I was in much better shape, I did not feel attractive at all to the opposite sex.

I believe my poor self-image issues didn’t really begin until I was thirteen. Until then, I was pretty much being me, and, even though I was just a tad too young, there were girls who were interested in me.

However, my father disapproved of my being myself, and seemed to hate everything about me, including what I liked, how I laughed, the fact I laughed, and even the music I enjoyed. He was a sociopath, but I wasn’t aware of that at the time. To lounge back in a chair would risk being beaten. To enjoy something meant that it would be taken away from me. I pretty soon learned to hide the things I enjoyed, and I became very secretive. I would even be guarded about what book I was reading, or what music I would listen to. No one ever caught me relaxing either.

However, that was at home and I was fine outside of the house until one particular incident at a school camp changed everything.  At the time, I was very short for my age, had not reached puberty,  so I had a high piping voice. A couple of people I hang around with were supposedly gay, but being 13, I had no clue what the hell that even meant. I was quite innocent.

At the school camp I found myself being picked on, and in one incident I suddenly was being bullied and beaten.

I thought it was because I was short, but it wasn’t, of course. They assumed I was gay, and in 1976, that was not something you wanted to have people think of you as, especially if you were actually straight, which I certainly was.

The only thing that clued me in, and saved me was that a few days ago, I had made up a story about having a girlfriend. It was half wishful thinking on my part, and also a desire to fit in. The details came from my imagination, and a girl I visited in my mind on a daily basis that I called Patricia. She had no last name. So, when someone asked me if I had a girlfriend, I told them I did.

One of the guys who had just been beating me said, as he was walking away, “and that’s bullshit about you have a girlfriend.”

The others who were with him however, said, with some surprise: “Do you have a girlfriend?” and I said I did. Suddenly, they changed their attitude, plied me with questions on her, and I happily made up an elaborate story to support it, which wasn’t very hard, as I had all the details already. I told them I didn’t have her surname as it was complicated, and they accepted that.

Suddenly, I was in. People accepted and liked me, and I learned that if I modified my behaviour, people would change towards me.

Young teens were so homophobic back then.

No one ever found out that the girlfriend was fiction. I ‘broke up’ with her a few months later, and it was promptly forgotten.

(As an interesting side note, in 1992, I met a girl called Patricia, she looked like my fantasy girl, and I had coffee with her a few times, but it didn’t go anywhere, and I never remembered her last name as it was too complicated!)

It was clear to me that by hanging out with two questionable friends, it was hurting my reputation, so I cut them loose (and while I regret the method of doing so, it certainly wasn’t any loss to them) and tried to be well, more sporty.

I decided that I had to rebuild my reputation. I did everything I could to try and change people’s perception of who I was, and tried to involve myself to become accepted.

The camp acceptance was a flash in the pan, though. I had impressed everyone there, and I had also showed them there was more to me then met the eye, but this did not continue at school.

I was lousy at sports, and that went against me. I had lost my coordination the following year due to being hit by a car while crossing the road. My hearing and coordination was affected, and even the leg I broke took three months to heal.

I was also paranoid, and anyone who did try to befriend me during those years would be treated with extreme suspicion, as I believed I was being set up.

The paranoia was a result of my home life, and the fact that there was a group of kids who loved to pick on me.

All in all, it made for a very bad combination. For two years I struggled every day to fit in and in the third year, I just gave up and kept to myself. I felt as though there was an invisible glass barrier between me and everyone else.

At the end of year three, it all changed and suddenly I was more accepted, had good friends (including some who were former antagonists) however I was never relaxed enough to just be me.

The damage had been done. I became a product of other people’s perceptions of me.

The perception of the opposite sex also didn’t help. I was told that their view of me was that I was too short (I’m 5 foot 6 inches), too serious, too intense, and not good looking enough to be seen with, and finally, I was told I was too nice.

Now, I realize that those were mostly superficial things, and really, it was their issue, not mine, but at the time, there seemed to be a complete lack of single females, and even the odd ones who were single certainly had those quibbles about me.

What was missing with me, though, was not that those things were wrong with me, because even if they were, that wasn’t the main issue. It was my lack of self-esteem that was the problem. The fact I had no faith in myself. I didn’t believe that anyone would want me for me and what was more, that I was someone that they would want to be with.

I had no self-confidence. The moment I was put in a situation that warranted it, I would fall apart within, and feel isolated, lonely and desperately unhappy. Of course, no one understood why that was.

Ironically, I had plenty of inner strength, I just didn’t believe in me.

Such is the story of many empaths. They don’t believe in themselves. They feel  so much pain, so much loss and isolation that the moment something good comes along, they fall apart, especially the moment they feel challenged.

It certainly was my story, and I ended up being quite the aloof / poor me / victim type towards the end. I hated being that way, and I did everything I could to shift and when I did shift, it was traumatic and painful, but it changed everything.

To those empaths reading my story, please don’t feel sorry for me. I am not looking for sympathy. I am sharing so, if you have gone through the same thing, you may see yourself in me, and reach a new understanding of why you feel so isolated and depressed.

I certainly held a lot of the anger on a cellular level. I never let it go. I was unable to do so. If I felt frustrated, I’d either repress it or vent it through biting humour. I was also passive aggressive, but I never truly vented my anger. I didn’t know how to. Those who were initially responsible for those early events were no longer around. I had nowhere to go with it.

If anger affects the liver, then it is little wonder that my liver has taken so much damage. Fortunately is had the capacity to heal and regenerate.

Though this subject is about weight, it’s worth noting that the main push is self-esteem, and that is a subject many empaths suffer from.

Next: Looking at how this all fits together.


Where did I put those rose coloured glasses…?

Empaths and weight – Part two


The follow is a short essay on what motivated me to not be true to who I was. It’s a common mistake many Empaths make.  It is personal, though it is relevant.  Please note, this is note a victim or poor-me piece. It is an exploration of the factors that caused poor self-image, and possibly lead to weight issues.

Now, it is curious, that to my mind, I am more attractive and desirable nowadays, than I was when I was fit, trim and in better health.

Back in those days, my self- image and self-esteem was pretty low. On one hand, I liked who I was, and where I was going, however, on the other hand, I felt very rejected, unattractive, and looking in the mirror, I didn’t look quite right. If I had met me, I would have felt somewhat uneasy about it.

People would constantly refer to me (behind my back) as someone who was weird. I found out about this because I did have a good circle of friends, who would keep me in the know.

I was unable to comprehend why such comments were made as I tended to be friendly, helpful and empathized with everyone I spoke to. Yet some didn’t trust me, and many seemed to take a delight in twisting my words and motives around.

I knew that I didn’t fit into my perception of normal society. I didn’t hold the same views, I didn’t subscribe to small talk, and forget about partying and drinking. It just wasn’t me.

My focus was philosophy and the study of the esoteric. I searched, almost fanatically, for the answer to life.

I was also very much into computers. My job was processing data, and I was very much in the know about what was happening with the latest technology.

Back in the 80s, this was not the positive it is today. I wasn’t even called a geek, which is more a positive word in 2013 I was told I was ‘too straight’ because I was a computer operator.

Back then, that statement just sounded inane. It’s like saying that anyone that uses a computer today is straight and boring. However, that was the perception for those who loved computers.

And I did love them. From the first moment I saw a TRS-80 back in high school in 1977, I knew that I wanted to go down that path. I knew that they were the future, and I knew that it would give me a distinct advantage to not only know how to use one, but how to touch type, too, which was also something mostly women did back then. Men just didn’t have a need for it.

Time has proven me right, of course. I can fix just about any pc problem, as long as it’s fixable and I have the tools, and I can fix them quickly, and people now love me for that ability, (Though they do take it for granted.) Back then, though, it was an invitation for persecution and being ostracised, so you just didn’t mention it.

It did add to my self-image of being undesirable.

I was also told I was too fancy with my words. I don’t believe I was, but I did have a larger vocabulary, and I tended to choose my words very carefully. Couple that with a European (Dutch origin) accent that had a higher timbre, (which I was told made me sound gay  over the phone or the C.B Radio), many, who had not even met me in person,  would react rather negatively towards me, even to the point of being hostile.

Also, those who knew me either loved me or hated me. There didn’t seem to be an in-between.  Those who loved me loved my company, my sense of humour and my insights. At the same time, they felt I was too intense and too serious. I didn’t know how to be any other way. To me, it didn’t make sense that they would laugh at my humour and in the same breathe say I was serious.

I also was flat footed, so my walk was more of a swagger, and that also wasn’t acceptable.  In fact, I was made to feel that all my quirks and mannerisms were not acceptable by the friends I had as a teen. They tried to ‘fix’ me, so I could function, but nothing they did worked, as I wasn’t actually broken.

I never understood the ‘being human’ thing back then. I couldn’t fit in, and part of me didn’t want to fit in. Eventually I reached the point where I rebelled and told people that if they didn’t like me, it was too bad, but I was going to be who I wanted to be, and what was more, it was because of people like them that I dug my heels in and refused to compromise myself.

That was on one level. On another level, I was extremely lonely, and would subconsciously use my empathy to tap into what people liked and wanted, and then modified my behaviour to reflect them appropriately.

This, of course, was in direct contradiction to what I was declaring myself to be, and if you would have asked me if I was doing otherwise, I would have denied it till I was blue in the face, because I honestly didn’t believe it was what I was doing.

However, it was with people I worked with, or those I was friends with, or those who I wanted more than friendship with, that I would compromise who I was.

This didn’t work and because I wasn’t aware of what I was doing, I had no clue why it wasn’t working.  Personally, I think I would have come across as a little disconcerting to those who I was trying to build an empathy with.

I think a wonderful example of how badly this technique fails is in the movie Groundhog Day.

Phil Connors, who is stuck in the same day over and over again, uses it to find out everything he can about Rita, the woman who he’s in love with.  Every day he gets a little further by pretending to like what she likes, and feel what she feels.  But Rita is never fooled for long, and each attempt ends with a slap in the face.  She clearly senses something is off, and she’s right.

What I was doing was becoming an extension of the person, and supressing my own quirks and personality. If they did manifest, they would tend to be passive aggressive and negative.

I imagine that would have left my target feeling a little creeped out, because even if they weren’t high level empaths, the majority of people are empathic at some level, and they will sense that something isn’t quite right.

So, why would I do this? Because I truly believed that the true me, even though I liked it, was unacceptable for everyone else. It certainly seemed unacceptable to those who I was romantically interested in, and in the 80s to mid-1990s, I never got far at all in that area.

Next: The early teen years that influenced my self-image.

I’m just big boned…

Empaths  and weight – part 1

I’ve notice that many empaths, myself included, tend to have weight issues.

Are we overweight or obese because we are empaths? Is it a by-product of being empathic? Can we blame being overweight because we are empaths?

I believe that being overweight may well be caused by being an Empath.

That’s not to say that being an Empath is the cause of being overweight. Clearly it’s not, however Empaths may well be even more susceptible to weight problems.

I know, that for myself, even though I don’t really do anything that puts on the amount of weight I carry, something within me stops, just short, of doing the things that will help me to lose weight.

I’ve got several things going against me.

  • My sleep apnea, which tends to lower my metabolism due to lack of sleep and oxygen.
  • My liver, which, in spite of never taking drugs, never drinking, is (according to the doctors) damaged in a way that suggests heavy drug use.

I have to ask myself why? When it comes down to it, my lifestyle isn’t all the unhealthy. My diet is pretty decent (though my weakness is coffee and chocolate) and I can’t really remember the last time I ate junk food.

I walk a lot more than I used to and my stress levels are a lot less nowadays, and yet I still am gaining weight.

So, it’s time to look at other factors in my life.

Here we will need to look into the esoteric and energy side of things.

Anger is said to affect your liver. As an empath, I’ve repressed a lot of anger over the years: Probably a toxic amount. Does the energy get stuck in our organs? If so, does it affect the health of those organs?

If the first is true, then most certainly the second will be true, as the vibrational energy of anger is negative, and negative energy will have a long term effect on our health.

Also, is my sleep apnea a result of being an Empath?  I think so, but plan to explore this more fully in a future blog.

But for now, I will make some observations.

When I eat chocolate, or food that taste good, it’s in an attempt to make myself feel good. If I feel down, tired, or worries, eating something that is delicious, but bad for me, will give me that high, though it should be noted that the high only lasts for the duration of the eating, and that I don’t feel better after eating: In fact, I feel worse, and ask myself, why did I do that?

But the weird thing is that before I eat, something gets short circuited in my mind. I know it will have negative and adverse effects on me, but I can’t remember that fact, or if I remember, I can’t connect to it. All I have is an overriding urge to eat.

Blocking myself.

I have noted that the moment I start to make some headway with weight loss and diet, my energy levels take a huge drive, and I fall into a depressed, apathetic state, where the very thought of doing anything makes me feel anxious.  If I dig deeper, I think, what’s the point and I feel extremely anxious that I won’t get results, or more to the point, I won’t have the staying powers to get any meaningful and long term weight loss.

In a sense, I feel it’s a silent cry for help, though it’s so silent that no one will ever hear it, let alone be aware that it’s even there. As such, it’s pointless, but it does raise the question as to why this is even happening?

Next: Does how we view ourselves cause weight issues?