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fatliberation · 4 months

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hi, i'm a fat person who is just starting to learn to love and appreciate my body and i'm very new to the fat community and all that.

i was wondering if you could maybe explain the term ob*se and how it is a slur. i've never heard anything about it being a slur before(like i said, i'm very new here) and was wondering if you could tell me the origin and history of the word or mayy provide links to resources about it? i want to know more about fat history and how to support my community but i'm unsure of how to start

Welcome!

Obesity is recognized as a slur by fat communities because it's a stigmatizing term that medicalizes fat bodies, typically in the absence of disease. Aside from the word literally translating to "having eaten oneself fat" in latin, obesity (as a medical diagnosis) straight up doesn't actually exist. The only measure that we have to diagnose people with obesity is the BMI, which has been widely proven to be an ineffective measure of health.

The BMI was created in the 1800s by a statistician named Adolphe Quetelet, who did NOT sudy medicine, to gather statistics of the average height and weight of ONLY white, european, upper-middle class men to assist the government in allocating resources. It was never intended as a measure of individual body fat, build, or health.

Quetelet is also credited with founding the field of anthropometry, including the racist pseudoscience of phrenology. Quetelet’s l’homme moyen would be used as a measurement of fitness to parent, and as a scientific justification for eugenics.

Studies have observed that about 30% of so-called "normal weight" people are "unhealthy" whereas about 50% of so-called "overweight" people are “healthy”. Thus, using the BMI as an indicator of health results in the misclassification of some 75 million people in the United States alone. "Healthy" lifestyle habits are associated with a significant decrease in mortality regardless of baseline body mass index.

While epidemiologists use BMI to calculate national "obesity" rates, the distinctions can be arbitrary. In 1998, the National Institutes of Health lowered the overweight threshold from 27.8 to 25—branding roughly 29 million Americans as "overweight" overnight—to match international guidelines. Articles about the "obesity epidemic" often use this pseudo-statistic to create a false fear mongering rate at which the United States is becoming fatter. Critics have also noted that those guidelines were drafted in part by the International Obesity Task Force, whose two principal funders were companies making weight loss drugs. Interesting!!!

So... how can you diagnose a person with a disease (and sell them medications) solely based upon an outdated measure that was never meant to indicate health in the first place? Especially when "obesity” has no proven causative role in the onset of any chronic condition?

There is a reason as to why fatness was declared a disease by the NIH in 1998, and some of it had to do with acknowledging fatness as something that is NOT just about a lack of willpower - but that's a very complicated post for another time. You can learn more about it in the two part series of Maintenance Phase titled The Body Mass Index and The Obesity Epidemic.

Aside from being overtly incorrect as a medical tool, the BMI is used to deny certain medical treatments and gender-affirming care, as well insurance coverage. Employers still often offer bonuses to workers who lower their BMI. Although science recognizes the BMI as deeply flawed, it's going to be tough to get rid of. It has been a long standing and effective tool for the oppression of fat people and the profit of the weight loss industry.

More sources and extra reading material:

How the Use of BMI Fetishizes White Embodiment and Racializes Fat Phobia by Sabrina Strings

The Bizarre and Racist History of the BMI by Aubrey Gordon

The Racist and Problematic History of the Body Mass Index by Adele Jackson-Gibson

What's Wrong With The War on Obesity? by Lily O'Hara, et al.

Fearing The Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia by Sabrina Strings

#inbox #resources #the bmi is bullshit #fat liberation #fat acceptance #fat activism #bmi #medical fatphobia

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toptierteaser · 10 months

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Butterball Status: Pt. 1

A Blowup Anthology Story

“Well, well, well…seems like somebody’s hit ‘Butterball Status” today!”

The taunt, accompanied with a firm poke into his ample abdomen, carried out across the hall, audible to the dozens of Coaches and hundreds of Campers alike. Diego’s mouth fell agape, his plump cheeks reddening as the weight of what had just been said sunk into his stomach way that extra, stale donut had last night. I knew I should’ve laid off the treats for a while! Diego cursed internally.

But Coach Jason simply smiled at him. Or was it more of a sneer? It was hard to tell with Jason. ‘Chubby-chasin’ Jason,’ they called him. Behind his back, of course. Never when the handsome coach was present to make his Campers run an additional lap around the track. Watching diligently as their overblown backsides jiggled uncontrollably with all the added weight. Of course, the Coach could never fully express his predilections, as it would have been social suicide among the other Coaches. But he had his reputation among the Campers, and the fatties had eaten the rumor up faster than a bucket of fried chicken.

Naturally, Jason played up the angle of a Coach being disgusted at his camper for packing on as many pounds as Diego evidently had. And so the sharp poke into his big, juicy tummy transfigured into a grab as Jason’s hand snaked around from Diego’s front to his equally-tubby love handle. The other hand was placed on its twin and Deigo felt himself, helpless, defenseless, and in full view of half the camp, being turned toward the mirror in front of him.

The scale had confirmed it, the numbers having jumped by ten since the last weigh in—how was it even possible he had packed on that much weight in a week?—and Coach Sebastian clacked away at his calculator, racking up Diego’s routinely-increasing BMI. The nerdy coach began snickering behind his glasses as he waved the numbers up in the air. “It’s official!” said the Coach in his nasally voice. “The fat fuck is officially a butterball!”

Those within Diego’s earshot began to snicker and whoop, to offer snide comments about how he had “never quite been able to put the fork down, that one.” Or how it was a “good thing he’ll get bumped up a weight class. His fat ass was barely able to fit through the door as it was, poor fat fuck.”

Diego tried not to let everyone see how badly it affected him, how flustered and embarrassed it was making him. But such teasing, taunting observations weren’t even the worst of it.

“This is your own fault, you know, pork chop?” said Jason in his ear. Now he really was smiling. “You’re the one who fed yourself up like this, weren’t you fatboy?”

And as Diego’s round body was wheeled about, he realized the Coach was absolutely right. He almost didn’t recognize himself. Before him stood a tubby young man, the lingerings of handsomeness jutting through the added pudge on his face. but the rest of him was completely unrecognizable. In his time at the Camp, Diego had absolutely buried himself in layers of fat, his belly swelling to completely cover his fly, his thighs porking out ridiculously, his moobs pressing up against his chubbed-up neck. He looked like a big fat scoop of neopolitan ice cream, his warm brown skin busting out from underneath the tight white t-shirt that didn’t even reach his cavernous belly button and his bright pink booty shorts that looked more like painted-on briefs. It had been a while since he’d been forced to look at himself in the mirror and while he still found his shocked, embarrassed face to be handsome, he felt that the rest of him rather resembled an overinflated balloon!

It was all too much! The image of himself, standing there, big fat legs pressing out against each other, juicy arms unable to rest because his love handles were in the way. His Coach poking and prodding and squeezing his chubby side rolls. The sight of himself, about a bite of cheesecake away from splitting his uniform, completely defenseless. An overfed blowfish who in all likeliness would only be blown up even fatter! He felt himself growing excited, the waistband of his shorts creaking as he felt himself expand within them.

Calm down, he told himself. Just take a deep breath.

And then he saw Brandon, the flamboyant Coach who had been a tailor and a hairdresser before they began Rounding Up fatties across the country, walking up to him, smirking with a measuring tape held taut between his hands.

And as Coach Jason was forced to stand aside as Brandon took the helm, wrapping the tape beneath Diego’s armpits and tut-tutting as he slid down Diego’s sides to his big belly, measuring the ridiculous circumference of the fatass. “Seems like the fat fuck has ballooned his belly wider than his shoulder-width!” said the Coach. And as he said it, Diego felt himself rise, swell, and—PING—the button of his shorts went flying out across the room!

There was another humiliating snickering that surrounded him, consuming him, driving Diego ever-more flustered.

And then, as Diego’s obese ass and thunderous thighs were measured, Jason all but shoved Brandon out of the way, grabbing Diego by the love handles and turning him in a 180-degree fashion. “Well, biggums…I’m sad to see you leave the Bunk…but rules are rules…now, there’s only one thing left to do.” And Diego braced himself, hoping his belly covered the exposed fly of his shorts, as he felt the enormous stamp flying out across the air and pressing squarely in his extremely-wide ass.

He gave an involuntary squeal of embarrassment that thrilled the Coaches. And then, looking more pathetic than ever, Diego turned to look at the mirror over his shoulder, taking in the stamped image of a turkey that now replaced the teddy-bear print on his caked-up ass.

“Well, then,” said Coach Jason. “All there is for us to do now is to roll you on down to your new bunk and introduce you to the other tubby butterballs!”

#gaining weight #teaser #bhm weight gain #chubby #fatass #fatty #fat belly #fat bhm #feedee encouragement #fatboy #wg story #male wg #fat story

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 6 months

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Ayo can we get a hot ass "keep my wife's name out your goddamn mouth" Kathy x John

Kathy does routine physical exams obviously and in the showers Price overhears some locker room talking about his wife, how they'd like those hands to go further, like how she bosses them around etc.

Cue him rounding the corner to give them a solid punch and "Don't you dare utter my wife's name again"

Up to you if she rewards him ☺️

yes you fucking can!!!!

That's My Wife!

pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price words: 1.5K~ cw: jealousy, protectiveness, arguments, violence, injuries (mentioned), misogyny, sexually-charged comments, "locker room talk", smutless smut.

The worst time of the year for the army medical staff at Tidworth is September. Oh, how the nurses and doctors hate the month of September during which, for two weeks straight, they see nothing but soldier after soldier for health checks and physical exams to confirm that they’re fit for service.

It’s, unfortunately, repetitive, mind-numbing and time-consuming. It’s also, unfortunately, a whole hands on deck situation. So, everyone who’s not actively doing something else, gets called in to help process the soldiers.

That’s how Kathleen ends up, every year, in the clinic, helping physicians assess the soldiers. Her jobs tend to be easy. More of the same that she tends to already do: measuring heights and weights, calculating their BMI and body fat percentages, using the stethoscope to listen to their heartbeat and breathing, manning the blood pressure gauge…

And, of course, the most interesting stuff. Conducting stress tests and having to strap all sorts of machines and sensors to the soldiers and monitor how they perform as they run on a treadmill, as well as doing physical checks on old injuries, scars…

In short, she spends a long time in front of shirtless men… and even longer touching their chests, arms, backs, and sometimes their legs, to check for injuries, which often ends with her crouching or kneeling at their feet.

And, of course, the stupid soldiers can’t keep their mouths shut. More often than not they make a few remarks about taking her out later, about coming to see her more often, of being lucky they get her for their checks…

It’s a nightmare. Kathleen hates it. In fact, she wishes she wasn’t tasked with that every year… But the choice is her or risking one of the pretty new interns having to do it, girls who haven’t yet developed the thick skin she has, and would likely giggle and get flustered at the lads behaviour… instead of calling them out on it or just downright ignoring them.

September, as it turns out, is also a nightmare for John. But he only figured that out today.

After his Bravo team finished training for the morning, John allowed them to hit the showers and he stayed behind to finish some work and talk with Soap.

As they enter the locker room, the rest of Bravo team is already in the communal showers, talking loudly amidst themselves and laughing, their voices echoing amidst the spraying of the showers over them.

John pops open his locker and starts shedding his workout kit, tossing it into his bag on the shelf. Soap isn’t far from him, a few lockers up, in the adjacent wall, his locker door having his name ‘MACTAVISH’ inside the clear plastic name tag holder, with a post-it naming him ‘F.N.G’ scotch taped below it.

John doesn’t need to pay much attention to know they’re talking about women, especially, the nurses from the nearby Tidworth base. All of them had gone through their check-ups in the last couple of days and, as is typical, they couldn’t keep their traps shut about the pretty women with soft hands doting all over them.

“Oh, mine bent over and pushed those tits of hers right up to my knee.” One of them said.

“Lucky bastard. I got a bloke.” Another replied.

Oh, how many times John had told them to be quiet and keep those sorts of talks to themselves when they were at the barracks, and not in public… But did those knobheads listen? No, never.

John grabbed his towel and 2-in-1 shampoo and bodywash and headed into the showers, taking up one of the vacant spots and drawing the curtain after hanging the curtain just outside his stall.

“I swear she was giving me the look… Definitely wants a piece of me.”

“No bird would want a piece of yer ugly mug.”

The lads continued talking as he let the water run over his body and began quickly lathering himself up with his 2-in-1, washing his hair and face aggressively before running his head under the falling shower water.

“I’m not devout, but this new batch’a nurses they got this year makes me a believer.”

“That’s right, brother.”

One-by-one they started vacating their stalls, still chatting loudly about their check-ups and the young women that treated them, lounging about the locker room and making each other laugh.

“But that arse of hers… I just know she’d bounce so well on my cock-”

“Oh that’s nothing. You didn’t see her last year before they changed the colour of the scrubs… That blue colour just… mmmmm…”

John finishes his shower not long after, wrapping his grey towel around his hip and tying it up to stay still. Then, he collects his 2-in-1 bottle from its perch atop the metal piping of the shower and starts making his way back.

That’s when he hears it:

“It’s no wonder the Captain’s peacockin’ himself around like that… I mean have you seen the size of her tits?”

John’s blood runs cold. They wouldn’t fucking dare. They wouldn’t talk about Kathleen.

No.

Not they.

Him.

Sergeant Ellis Evans.

One he’s always had problems reining in.

“Captain’s lucky is all I’ll say… Body like hers… Hell, even I’d forgive that bloody attitude of hers.”

The others laughed as Evans continued.

“I mean, I’m sure Kathleen’s mouth’s good for more than just talking… Gotta be good on her knees.. They call her ‘Brass’ for a reason, right? Bet she leaves ‘em with a nice polish and shine once she’s done.”

That did it.

John rounded the corner into the locker room and, abruptly, the room fell into silence, breaths hitching and the temperature dropping into an uncomfortable ice.

But John didn’t stop walking at the doorway… In fact, he beelined right for Evans.

“Captain, I-” Evans immediately tried backtracking. “We were just joking, we were just-”

“Keep my wife’s name out your bloody mouth.” John grits at him through clenched teeth before he throws a right cross to Evans’ face.

It’s just past 7P.M. when Kathleen comes in through the front door. John has made dinner for them and little Charlotte is already asleep in her crib by the time she does.

She sets her bag down in the entrance, takes off her shoes, and pads over to the kitchen in search of John.

“Hi…” She greets him softly as she approaches the table, causing him to swivel on his chair to greet her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She presses a kiss to his mouth, which he returns. “Hi, Da’lin’.” He murmurs to her once they separate.

“Is she down?” She asks in a soft tone as she looks at him.

“Mhm… Full belly and empty diaper.” He tells her, which makes her smile softly, seeming relieved.

Kathleen feels exhausted, as usual, still not used to the work-life balance that comes from having a 4-month-old baby who doesn’t like to sleep + and a physically demanding job that runs on a 12-hour-shift schedule.

John swivels back to his previous position, nursing a glass of whiskey with his left hand, the right one resting on the table, the knuckles covered by a blue gel ice pack.

“So that’s what happened...” Kathleen muses as she glances at his iced hand, before backing away to grab herself a plate of food from the cupboard.

“What is?” John murmurs as he glances at her, watching her serve herself of some frozen lasagna and salad.

“One of your lads ended up in my emergency room after some ‘roughhousing gone wrong in the locker room’... I was musing about what he did all afternoon.” She quips as she pads over to the table again again.

“Hm.” John mutters quietly, seemingly a mix of embarassed and annoyed at that fact.

“So what did he do?” She asks as she takes a seat on his lap, perched on his lap, as she pops a cherry tomato in her mouth.

“Talked about you.” John murmurs, wrapping his free arm around her waist. “Only I get to say debauching things about My Wife.” He grumbles as he looks up into her eyes.

Kathleen rolls her eyes at him and shakes her head, but she can’t help the smirk that takes over her rudy lips as he calls her ‘his wife’. “My, Mr. Price, defending my honour, huh?” She jokes as she pops a bit of lettuce in her mouth.

“Defending my honour… and yours by proxy. Just an unforeseen consequence of it.” He tells her, trying to act nonchalant about the fact he broke a man’s nose, eyesocket and three of his ribs, for demeaning his wife.

“Right… Of course… How stupid of me…” Kathleen teases as she leans toward him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, which makes his blue eyes close, a smile taking over his features.

“As opposed to… what exactly? There isn’t much up there other than thoughts of my cock, da’lin’.” John remarks, causing her to roll her eyes, annoyed, and flick his head away from her by pushing his cheek, annoyed.

“I can very well just stop thinking about it all together… And I’m sure you wouldn’t want that when I was just about to reward you for defending me…” Kathleen teases as she pops another cherry tomato in her mouth, eyes locked on John and the way his pupils dilated, his cock already stirring awake in his joggers against her ass in her green scrubs.

#ikea writes 💚#tw violence #tw misogyny #tw injury #cod x reader #cod fanfic #masterlist #call of duty #cod fandom #cod oc #oc: kathleen “brass” price #price x kathleen #john price x oc

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sixth-light · 2 years

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(tws ahead: discussion of food, diets and diet culture, eating disorders, calorie counts, and fatphobia in the context of pregnancy)

Truly one of the most bizarre things about being pregnant has been the official advice around food. Food and eating is difficult enough already when you're pregnant - there's excellent scientific evidence that it's advisable to moderate your caffeine intake and avoid alcohol, and an entire laundry list of stuff you're supposed to avoid for food safety/food poisoning risk reasons. (I am a nerd and I read the last scientific review of the linked advice from the NZ Ministry of Health, so I can say with confidence it's also pretty well supported.) Personally, I am largely indifferent to going without alcohol, but after half a year or so my brie cravings are getting pretty intense. That's going to be even tougher for people with food restriction issues. And then there's the potential nutrient deficiencies that come when a baby is sucking up all your available iron, calcium, etcetera.

But on top of all this...a couple of things are also true:

later pregnancy and breastfeeding require a higher calorie intake because you're, uh, feeding an entire baby with your body and those calories have to come from somewhere

healthy pregnancy also requires weight gain because of the aforementioned 'growing an entire person' thing

Western Anglophone society absolutely loses its goddamn mind at the thought of telling women (and other pregnant people, but they are clearly not thinking that far) that it's okay for them to eat more than normal, let alone gain weight

So there's reams and reams of official advice which has like one line saying "maybe don't diet when you're pregnant" quickly followed by "but it's OK! you can diet afterwards! you'll lose lots of weight when you breastfeed!" and then like. eight paragraphs on how while technically, they suppose you need some extra calories during some of your pregnancy, it is DEEPLY IMPORTANT that those calories only come from the most healthy and boring possible foods, because otherwise you might gain too much weight which is the worst possible thing that could happen. Try carrot sticks! Fat-free yoghurt! Dry toast! I have literally seen advice suggesting the extra calories you need can be gained from a "small snack". Maybe an apple. (Most of the estimates I've seen about extra calorie needs in later pregnancy are in the range of 3-400 extra calories a day. That apple would have to be the size of your head.) This is all followed up with dire warnings about gestational diabetes, which is lurking in the wings waiting for any pregnant person who dares use it as justification for eating that extra biscuit. There is clearly a really deep-seated belief at play that if you give them - us - an excuse to eat more we will gorge ourselves on, IDK, chips and ice cream, because the only thing holding us back from obesity is the constant reminder that gaining weight is BAD and that eating too much food is BAD (even though the reality is that weight gain and higher caloric needs are part of a healthy pregnancy). This reality has to be held at arms' length and hemmed in with restrictions and cautions lest all hell break loose. You are very literally advised to calculate your BMI, weigh yourself regularly, and have a target weight gain - i.e. implicitly to restrict your food intake if your weight gain is higher - which I'm sure is just chill and fabulous for people with a history or present of eating disorders.

(The cherry on top of this is that it's normal for pregnant people to have suppressed appetites in late pregnancy despite needing more food because, again, there is an entire baby in there squashing their organs. Add in all those foods that you can't eat, and it can actually be somewhat challenging to eat enough.)

The bit that haunts me is that we know that caloric restriction during pregnancy makes children more likely to have higher weights later on, and you know who is most targeted with this diet-but-don't-diet-but-actually-kinda-do rhetoric? Fat people, who are advised to gain at absolute most about the weight of a healthy full-term baby + amniotic fluid/placenta/etc - and that it's fine if they gain much less weight than that, barely more than the weight of a healthy baby, which would actually equate to total weight loss. During pregnancy. It feels like there could be a lot of self-fulfilling prophecy going on here vis a vis fat parents having fat kids. which is now sometimes characterised as a form of child abuse. FUN.

Anyway, I am sure I'm not the only person to have made these observations (and if you know good writing on this topic I'd love to be linked to it, because I'm way too chicken to try Googling) but man. As I said at the start: the level at which fatphobia and diet culture are institutionalised during pregnancy, to the detriment of actual health, is wild.

(For my money, sane advice would be 'healthy eating advice is the same during pregnancy as it is other times except for the specific foods you should avoid because of increased food poisoning risk, and you need to eat a bit more in later pregnancy. The end.')

#fwiw my midwife has never even asked to weigh me #and she only asks about food in the context of 'are you having any digestive issues' and monitoring of things like iron and B vitamins #so that's cool and good but oh boy #I wish I didn't feel grateful this was the case

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earthnashes · 1 year

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Fitness update time baybeeeeeeeee! I once again had to gather the balls to post the photos here so uh. Ye. :D

Like the last one, more details will be under the cut, but for the TL;DR crowd:

Last Update Here

Current: 177lbs | Estimated BMI: 24-26% | Push Pull Legs split at 6 Days a week

Notes: Training stimulus for this block focused on lifting basics and intensity: establishing a stronger mind-muscle connection and knowing how training to true mechanical failure feels like. Additional challenge: Finding maintenance calories and maintaining weight in the general range of 175-180lbs before re-attempting 1st Lean Bulk attempt.

Results: All lifts have seen an increase in working weight. Noticeably more muscle definition overall over the course of the last two months. Weight largely remained the same; assume maintenance calories has been accurately found.

Sooooooo the last two months have been kinda crazy. I took a look at my past lifting logbooks and found that despite my PRs being higher than the last recorded attempt, my overall working weights for all of my lifts hadn't really moved much. Partially out of fear of injury, but mostly due to the noticeable lack of real intensity in the training.

On top of that I found that my weight wasn't going down or up at the calories I was eating at, but my energy had begun to drop and recovery was suffering. Originally I was meant to be in my first bulk, but my weight never moved, and that ultimately resulted in me switching strategies for my nutrition too.

Basic idea: dial up the intensity, RPE of 8-9.5. Find true maintenance calories.

For nutrition: I used the TDEE calculator for my calories this time. It's supposedly more accurate than most other calorie calculators including MyFitnessPal's calculator, which gave me 2200 calories as my "bulk". Welp, turns out that's wrong; 2200 is my cutting number with my current activity level. And given how long I've been in a cut, it explained why, even in the deficit still, my weight never moved: it's too low to gain weight, and with how long I been in a deficit up until then my body was adapted too much to continue losing fat. So I instead switched focus onto finding my actual maintenance calories by immediately bumping my calories to the number the TDEE calculator gave me (2600 cal) and adjusting based on how my weight trend.

Result is, over the course of 2 months I gained 2 pounds but I'm certain this is almost entirely muscle (based on look, measurements, and performance in the gym); I've otherwise hadn't changed weight wise. This is good to know; it means I can eat more than I initially thought and gives me a stronger baseline for when I do actually go into a real bulk.

For training: First thing I focused on was my legs, which was arguably my weak link. This is largely due to an old injury in my left knee made it hard to reach full range of motion, and the strength discrepancy between my left and right leg because of it was pretty noticeable. Correcting it is one of the reasons why I switched to PPL training split, with Legs being trained first every cycle.

For both my legs and my isolation exercises I utilized unilateral versions of all my exercises; working each limb separately instead of together. I also incorporated a different set program: 2 working sets of 6-10 reps, 1-2 sets taken to true mechanical failure. The failure sets were meant for me to get used to the very uncomfortable sensation of training the muscle to- and past - it's actual limit and not my mental limit while maintaining proper form technique. That shit is rough, but it ensured that I was training with actual intensity and I was taking the muscle to true failure for growth, which in turn would help with building better muscle-mind connection with each muscle bilaterally and unilaterally.

For compounds I didn't take any of the lifts to true failure due to the higher fatigue and recovery toll. Instead I focused on building strength skill, so the set program was: 1 Topset (heaviest set of the exercise) 1-3 reps, 2 working sets for 5-8 reps. Any hypertrophy work for these lifts were always done with machine accessories for stability and safety.

Results thus far has seen my overall strength increasing, my knee is much stronger and stable (tested my squats and I can safely squat my own bodyweight without pain or wobbling, which is a feat due to being unable to do that months ago), and I confidently can say I have better form and idea of intensity.

-------

SO! With all of that said I'd say this block was overall a success after much trial and error. Now that I've gotten a better idea of a few things, my next move right now is to take a deload week for some much needed rest, then structure my next block for a more strength focus alongside my 2nd attempt at an actual lean bulk. The goal is to gain at least 4-5 pounds of muscle by the beginning of next year and make a new maxout for my PRs, so I might look a lil soft the next time I do a progress report but hopefully I'll be much stronger and ready for my second cutting phase.

This shit is hard, but I'm loving it to death man. I'm having a lot of fun learning and going through the journey and now I can confidently say that I'm at the Intermediate stage of lifting! I also think I know the type of weightlifter I am now. I've heard the term "powerbuilding" a few times now and I feel it fits; primarily lifting to build strength, but also throwing in some bodybuilding rhetoric for aesthetics.

Like I said a while back I'm seriously considering recording my workouts and posting those as I go on my Instagram, and I've actually bought a lil phone stand to practice recording and being more comfortable in front of the camera. We'll see how that goes I suppose!

But uhhhhh YE! That's all my yapping for now. Thank you for listening, and if you have any fitness goals feel free to share them with me! :)

#weightlifting #powerlifting #powerbuilding #ash talks #earthsong talks

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starboy2023 · 4 months

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Perfect Personalized Diet! (dm for your personalized diet too!)

Using my height, weight, bmi, activity level, and maintenance caloric intake, I was recently able to create a personalized day-by-day diet to help me lose my depression weight!

My journey: (skip to the bottom for the final diet!)

Hi! I'm starboy, and this is my ED blog! To be transparent, at my low weight, I weighed roughly 90lbs, with my bmi being 14.1. I was incredibly ill, and know I cannot go back to that wieght; however, it helped ease my gender dysphoria, and my problems with OCD massively. In June of 2023, I was 98.5 lbs with a bmi of 15.4. You can go to my twitter for body checks and pictures!

Currently, I weigh 109 lbs and my bmi is 17.1. I am deeply unhappy with this, and though parts of recovery have been great, I recently learned that I may be terminally ill. I figured if Im going out anyways, I’m going to go back to the one thing that brings me endless comfort: my eating disorder. By July 1st (in about 7 weeks from this post), I want to get to 100lbs, with a bmi of 15.7.

How I created this diet: (and how you can too!)

To explain how I calculated and created this diet, I used this link: “Calorie Calculator”, to calculate my maintenance weight. I rounded up to 115 lbs for my weight just to be safe! Using the maintenance number calculated from 115 lbs, which is 1,601 calories a day, my height, 5’7”, and my age, 18 years, I asked chat gbt to create a customized day by day calorie intake diet. Due to working Wednesday and Friday, I asked it to have those days be the highest caloric intake, and I asked for Monday and Saturday to be the lowest intake days, due to those being my typical clubbing/partying days. I also use 16:8 fasting, but I like to do a 24 hour fast every other week. Chat GBT gave me lots of advice and gave me a range of options, but the diet I decided on works best for me! I highly recommend reading thoroughly because it is very very helpful if you don't know the science behind weight loss!

My exact chat gbt message: (if you would like to make your own, copy and paste this message into Chat GBT and replace the weight, height, bmi, activity level, and maintenance calories)

“I am an 18 year old female, that is 5'7" and 115 lbs. My BMI is 18.0 currently. My physical activity level is sedentary. To maintain my current weight I need to consume 1,601 calories per day. I want to lose 15 lbs by July 1st. How many calories should I consume daily to lose 15 pounds by the beginning of July? Create a per day caloric intake schedule that includes fasting for 24 hours once every two weeks that goes until the beginning of July, where I would loose 15 pounds. Have my lowest caloric intake (or my bi-weekly fasting date) on Monday and Saturday, and have a little bit of a higher caloric intake for Wednesday and Friday: all while I am still on track to loose 15 pounds(making my weight 100 lbs) by the beginning of July.”

The final diet: (the part you guys really want!)

I eat between the hours of 12-7pm for my 16:8 fasting, and fast on every other Sunday.

Monday: 800 calories

Tuesday: 1,100 calories

Wednesday: 1,200 calories

Thursday: 1,100 calories

Friday: 1,200 calories

Saturday: 800 calories

Sunday 1,100 calories (fasting every other week)

Overall, I will be consuming 7,300 calories a week. (for reference, eating my maintenance calories would be 11,207 calories a week). That is a 3,907 weekly calorie deficit, and roughly a 558 calorie daily deficit. Remember! A deficit is how you lose weight!

I hope you enjoyed my explanation blog! If you would like me to help you create a personalized diet around your work days and life habits, please let me know! This is my favorite type of math, and if you need any tips or tricks, feel free to dm me here or on twitter! What type of blog or info dump would you guys like in the future?

Twitter: @star_boy2023

Tumblr: @starboy2023

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cherrydi3tcoke · 6 months

Text

my poem about anorexia:

"ana"

my caved in chest

and chicken arms

my pencil thin legs

and all my scars

my hollowed out cheeks

the rituals begin

the bags under my sockets

the definition of my chin

the fatigue every morning

the dizzy every night

the hunger pain

and the shivers

triggering myself

ana is the boss

find a way to cope

weight loss

decreased testosterone

or the absence of your period

workout routines

food diaries

nausea

sudden death

making others worried

shortness of breath

constipation or diarrhea

cut out food groups

weigh in every day

osteoporosis

my hair falling out

lanugo on my skin

bruises on my legs

my collarbones thin

my spine visible

my sternum is too

my bicep non-existent

daydreaming about my meals

every calorie counting

working out for hours on end

stomach flat

unable to keep a friend

a kilo or a pound

obsessed with the numbers

check each ingredient

water instead of oil

unsweetened almond milk

or a rice cake

oatmeal

scared to attempt to bake

blueish fingers

yellow-tinted skin

anemia

distorted self-image

feeding all my friends

counting while I eat

portioning myself

starving is my treat

women

men

children

and teens

big

tall

short and small

haunted by her curse

"have you eaten today?"

"I'm worried about you"

"Do you want some food?"

"Eat a burger"

memorize the macros

"i am not a dog, food is not my treat"

cry yourself to sleep

"but I've seen you eat"

hours in mirrors

isolate from others

heart palpations

and restless nights

incurable thirst

intermittent fasting

binges or purges

all effects are lasting

normal on the outside

dying on the inside

questions from passersby

self-harm

"just one more hour"

"just one more meal"

"i already ate"

"it's not that big of a deal"

suicidal thoughts

being underweight

scared of being healthy

scared to get too sick

feeding tubes

hospitalization

thinking about food

hyperventilation

racing thoughts

loneliness

using laxatives

diets

going to the gym

going for a run

bodychecking

never having fun

infertility

cracked, dry skin

thin, brittle nails

weakened teeth

ruining my life

ruining my relationships

ruining my future

unable to eat a bag of chips

eating disorder speaks in my place

therapy

"just eat"

excuses for each meal

obsessed with my intake

obsessed with the math

obsessed with my weight

following this path

ice

water

gum

coffee

hoping that they notice

never tell a soul

hide it all from others

staring at my empty bowl

atypical or not

never feeling valid

covering my body

starving till I'm on my deathbed

recovery is useless

"i want to stay this way"

I'll have to fight my whole life

to keep her voice at bay

searches on the Internet

headaches

vitamin deficient

aspartame

comparison

"no cal is better than low cal"

refeeding syndrome

"I'm not good enough"

"once on the lips forever on the hips"

quick ways to lose weight

calculate my BMI

freak out about what I just ate

hide my secret

hide my body

keep on the low

ana,

till I'm skin and bone

oh how she will lie

she doesn't want you to just be a number

she wants you to die.

-zsc

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