We're All Getting Older and Larger - But Why?

There seems to me a lot of concern from the medical community and insurance companies these days about Americans growing older and larger. Despite all the motivations to exercise, diet programs to stem our cravings, and a dedicated group of medical professionals eager to support and help us get trim, Americans are becoming more and more obese.

I admit I'm one of that number, I'm obese and getting larger. My question is why. I've struggled with my weight my whole life; at birth my mom's doctor stated "She's big enough to go to school". And I was, with a birth rate of 10 lbs 11 ounces.

Grade school was hell. I was teased, picked last for teams during gym class, laughed at. Even as a preteen, while at the beach, guys would walk by and say "Look a beached whale!"

At twelve I was put on medically approved speed. Yes, you read that right speed. I did lose weight, about 12-14 lbs that first week. And I recall the drug-driven sensation of my skin pulsating, feeling like it was going to split open and peel off my body. After about two weeks, I was taken off the drug and my weight slowly crept up.

I've tried every diet known to man, Weight Watchers, doctor-driven diets, even those over-the-counter diet aids. I've lost 100 lbs, I've gained 100 lbs. Once, I even did it by myself, with no pre-dictated formula except my own, and I lost 100 lbs. On my wedding day I weighed in at 138 lbs and wore a size somewhere in the range of 4 or 6. But that didn't last long, babies and a husband who hit me sealed the deal. I gained it promptly back.

I've beaten myself up for not being strong enough or dedicated enough to lose. I'm a coward I felt, I simply want to hide behind my fat. What is it that keeps me fat?

Even now as a 60ish old women, who still occasionally dates someone from one of those senior dating sites, I experience the awesome pleasure of being taken down when they outright make crude comments about my weight or never call again beyond that first date.

I've stopped beating myself up. I'm done. I still dream of someday being slim. Able to slip into all those slinky clothes I once enjoyed. I keep praying there's a man out there who will appreciate me for who I am, the real me, not the superficial outside shell. Someone who will love me for who I am, not who they wish me be.

And there's a part of me who wonders if all this recent weigh gain by Americans is linked to depression, we're largely older workers kicked to the curb by corporations too eager to relieve their insurance costs by getting rid of the people who most need medical coverage, their older seasoned, experienced workers.

And these same corporations work hard to see that we don't come back, by combining 4-5 jobs into one, lowering pay scales, and asking the impossible of their remaining workers by burdening them with additional responsibilities, leftovers from jobs now eliminated and gently disbursed amongst those remaining.

Sure Americans are depressed, first they lost their homes thanks to the dedication of crooked bankers and now they've lost their jobs. Do we wonder that Americans are eating junk food, drinking more, doing more drugs, experiencing increases in gang and crime activity. Americans are fed up, and so we eat.