I was normal from birth until the summer I turned 6 years old.
I stayed the summer with my grandparents and great grandmother. Every meal, they told me to eat what was on my plate and then would add more until nothing was left on the table. My grandmother would say, "finish it so I don't have to throw it away" and then my grandfather would say, "go get on the scales".
I probably gained 25-30 pounds in three months. I do not recall the conversation, but my uncle who was four years older at the time told me this story, years later.
He said, when my parents came to pick me up and I jumped out of my grandparent’s car, my Dad turned white as a ghost and said to me, get in the back of the truck. He exploded at my grandparents, jumped in the truck and we sped away. My Mom said he did not say a word on the 500 mile drive back to our hometown.
My grandparents eventually moved back to our hometown and it wasn't until we moved to Houston that my grandpa didn't bring me food to eat. He would pick me up to take me to school and there was always a high fat, high calorie treat in the glove box. Same during baseball season, in fact, every time I saw my grandfather he was feeding me something that tasted great but was high calorie.
Sorry to say, and I loved them dearly, but my grandparents caused my problem. I was a child and had no idea the damage that was taking place. My parents could not change my habits, hell, I learned how good food was and learned to love it before I new what to do.
I gained steadily from 1'st grade through 11’Th grade. I was picked on without mercy through elementary school. I received all the corny elephant, hippo and "fat" Valentine cards. I never kissed a girl and I never had many friends. Once I moved to Houston, everything changed in my life but the abuse. I took it through 7'th and most of 8'th grade until I beat the living crap out of one individual on the football team who shoved me down into a canal. Afterwards several of his friends tried to get even on his behalf and I beat the crap out them too. The last half of 8’Th grade was fairly smooth and it seemed that most of the boys truly respected me, or possibly feared getting the crap beat out of them.
I moved on to the 9'th grade and the abuse continued due to our family moving to a new school district and finding a whole new group of abusers.
I continued to gain until 11’Th grade. When we had weigh-in the first semester of 11’Th grade, the scales hit 225. The alcoholic old man we called coach, said, "damn, we'll call you Fat Albert". I replied with a string of curse words and was rewarded with 5 pops.
I don't remember exactly how I lost the weight, but we ate at Taco Bell quite often for lunch and put away the sunflower seeds like they were going out of style. I dropped to about 190 by the end of the year, and to about 175 by the beginning of my 12’Th year. I had one or two girlfriends that year and a few during the summer before college.
I hovered between 165 and 195 all through college...afterwards all went downhill.
BTW, I say it's my grandparent’s fault but I never treated them poorly or ever said anything about it out of respect. As I know their intentions were good.
Sorry for the short story....
Last edited by RDW : Wed, Jan-05-05 at 19:47.
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