Weight a minute...

I am currently on a course of steroids to try and get my ulcerative colitis under control. Now, normally I love, love, love steroids - especially the sugar coated red ones - mmmmmm - but this time I'm not so enamoured.

I've never had any side effects from steroids before. The opposite is in fact true. They cleared up a skin condition I had throughout my teenage years (something that no amount of other drugs or treatments could accomplish) and did I mention they are red and sugar coated? What's not to love?

I'm not one of these people that eschews modern medicine and my personal opinion is that if the doctor prescribes it to you, you take it. That's just me - if you don't like to take medicine and don't agree with it then that's absolutely fine, too. Live and let live, I say. Despite that, I always read the instruction leaflet that comes with any new pills I take. When you're a worrier like me, this is both a necessity and the stupidest thing anyone could do! So I am well aware that one of the side effects, of the negative variety, of steroids is that you can develop "moon face" (a chubby little face) and your appetite can increase dramatically leading to, yep, weight gain.

After feeling a little more bloated than usual, I decided to reassure myself by checking my weight. Just to appease my worry. Another big mistake as it turns out. I'd put on half a stone. Sigh.

Not to worry, I decided it was an anomaly and weighed myself again the next day. It was an anomaly - I was actually 4lbs heavier than the day before.

I know I've been eating shockingly - a combination of comfort eating and yet more comfort eating - but I was truly quite shocked.

And that's when it happened. Mental Jo raised her head and now I am absolutely obsessed with how much I weigh, what I look like and how round my face is. I am ashamed of myself yet don't know if it's a physical or mental issue.

The funny thing is, I don't judge people by what size they are.

Earlier today I was in a supermarket and wanted to look at the sale clothes. There were three ladies and a trolley in the way so I had to double back and go up the aisle another way.

The three ladies were having a conversation about a jacket they were admiring. The first lady was seemingly annoyed because one of her acquaintances had the audacity to suggest that the pair could share clothes.

First lady: (obviously not the actual first lady but hey...) Can you believe she thinks she's the same size as me?
Second lady: I know - she is so so much fatter than you. She's huge.
Third lady: Oh, yes. I would say that she was probably bigger than you.
First lady: She's got a nerve - and she probably believes it, too. Humph. *Giggles*
Second lady: God, if she got any bigger she'd nearly be as fat as Third Lady.

Even I stopped dead at that statement and a frigid chill wafted over all four of us. No-one knew what to say. I even wanted to break the awkward silence and I didn't even know them.

Now, all three of these ladies were larger ladies but why does that matter? Why were they so focused on their weight and their weight versus others.

Third lady could have been Mother Theresa yet her so called friends were so totally focused on what the scales told her and made her feel bad because of it.

Why do we listen to the scales? Why do we listen to these mean people - fat or thin - that tell us we aren't valuable because of a number on a scale? Why do we let the scales and these mean people invade our minds until it's their voices that we hear in our heads telling us that we're fat?

Up until the conversation started, the only thoughts I had about the three ladies is that they were in my way. By the end of the conversation, the only thing I knew for certainty is that Second lady wasn't a very nice person. Fat or thin - she wasn't very nice.

And that's what I have to remember is more important.

Be nice. To each other and to yourself.

That's my plan for this week. Who cares if I've put on weight for whatever reason? I'm still a good person and that's what counts.