There is a word in German, "kummerspeck", that translates to "grief bacon". The definition is "Weight that comes from emotional/sadness/grief eating". I learned that word about a year and a half ago. It has marinated since then in a stew of anti-depressant and pepsi cola.
I have been obsessed with obesity for most of my life. My parents were both big people. Each nearly 6 feet tall, my father with a BIG ole belly, my mother was just pillowy, I thought. Both were the biggest parents of my peers, for sure. It wasn't until last year, when my 13 year old son reached 6 feet tall and towered over me, that I realized I am short (5'5") But I weigh more than a 6 foot tall person should. A lot more.
I weigh a lot. I weigh very close to 300 pounds. That was two years ago. I likely weigh more now. I am incredibly uncomfortable in my body, to put it mildly. I am OBSESSED with my obesity, to underexaggerate.
My kummerspeck resides mostly in my belly, rump, thighs, under my upper arms, and the saddlebag double chin that weighs on my voicebox. (I also have back fat, cankles, and fat/big everything else....)
Never a very active person, (I did swim team and softball-poorly until 8th grade and marching band through high school) I am now almost completely sedentary. I often wonder how my life would've been different if I'd been a sportswoman and not a reader.
My fat = my misery. My fat = my self-indulgence. My fat = my self-pity. My fat = my messiness. My fat = my bipolar. My fat = my clutter. My fat = my overthinking. My fat = my soooooooooooooooooooooooo much.
So much kummerspeck.