I spoke with my mother today about the money issue

She is going with my father and will not be paying my rent come January 1st. She will help me look for a place within my budget (oh hello Chula Vista and goodbye downtown).

I have a very nagging feeling that my father is physically abusing her and thats why she is going a long with this after secretly paying my rent for the last six years.


I HATE my father.

This isn’t a secret. I hate my father. He is one of the biggest assholes to ever live. I should stop there because why should I give him the service of qualifying anything I say. But I won’t because I need to get this off my chest.

I am 46. I was born in December, 1967 at the height of the Vietnam war, just as my father was graduating from flight school we then moved immediately to San Diego where my dad went to learn how to fly the F-4 Phantom after which he went directly to Vietnam where he was a bonafide hero. I don’t even know what metals he won but I know it was a lot of them. But he is hardly a hero at home because he should have quit the Navy and been at home with my and my Mother. The stress of his tours caused my mother to eat away her stress. Obviously she was genetically programed to be fat, because she went from about 115 shortly after I was born to well over 300lbs.

She was terrified of me going hungry so she fed me well to, I gobbled up whatever food she would give me but I have particularly fond memories of the times when she would bake an entire tube of cookie dough and we would bond over them while watching game shows. But all was not perfect because during my Father’s last deployment in Vietnam, she was committed to psychiatric inpatient care and I was sent to live with my father’s parents, Grandfather being another Navy hero from World War II and Korea. I was about 3-4 I think and put on starvation rations by my cruel and harsh grandfather but of course I didn’t lose any weight.

My mom got out of psychiatric care after about 6 months and had lost a ton of weight much to my fathers approval…he was way more affectionate towards her than I had ever seen him. My father went on to be fighter pilot instructor at Top Gun (yes, the one featured in the famous movie) and life was great between my parents. My Mother was the adorable picture perfect Navy wife who hosted parties and my father was the chiseled American hero who flew fighter planes. I was the big fat lard disappointment who was forced into sports, activities, fat camps, etc…  My mother managed to keep off the weight until well after my little brother was born in 1976 and my sister in 1980.

Shortly after my sister was born we moved to France where my father was a Military Attache at the US Embassy in Paris. I continued to gain weight but what became clear is that my father adored my brother who was his spitting image. As my sister got older she was as beautiful as my mother but a true tom boy. At this time I started to discover my sexuality and knew that I wanted to be nothing like my asshole father. He tried to be affectionate towards me but I had NONE of it. I remember screaming in his face at the apartment in France “FUCK YOU.” I never felt prouder.

My mother started gaining weight again. After 11ish years of keeping it off the stress of her mother dying was too much. Though I hate to give my father any credit, at least he stuck to his Christian values and never left her, or as far as I know he never cheated on her. I gained weight right along side her and got more and more flamboyant. My brother and sister developed into academic and athletic super-stars under my father’s tutelage (oh you know, the attention he never showed me). When we moved back to San Diego and my dad got promoted again he took them hiking, sailing, skiing etc… Although I was always invited, there was an absolute undercurrent of “hey you fat fag, lose weight and you can have fun with us” so I never ever went.

Sometime in the mid 80s, a real estate investment paid off and my Father and Mother became over night multi-milionaires. Of course my Father refused to share with us, insisting that we find our own way and despite the new found wealth our little house in La Jolla remained as austere as ever. As I started to get into my 20s I started college and was grudgingly given a car because I had to drive to SDSU from La Jolla every day.

My little brother and sister became my Father in spirit, body and soul. Both where highschool athletes and both went on to be stand out Midshipmen at the Naval Academy. Both went on to become pilots…if it wasn’t clear who the disappointment in the family was, the respective day my dad got to pin their Naval Avaitor wings on each of them, I might as well have been worm spit. He tried to force me into the “happy family” moment photograph in his good natured  jock tone “Get in here William…its Kathryn’s big day” refusing to call me by adopted gay name, Simon. In the picture of my sisters winging day you can actually see the back of my shoe and pant leg, whoever took the picture caught the exact moment as I turned to get away from the horror show.  The three of them have gotten a huge laugh out of that over the years, no doubt.

So with that back ground, why do I hate him today? The fucking asshole just gifted each my brother and sister 14,000 dollars. To my brother because he just got chosen to command his own fighter squadron and to my sister to help with expenses of her 3 year old because her husband has chosen to be a stay at home dad so she can have a career. What did he give me? NOTHING. NOTHING. I am near starving broke, in a constant fight with the SSA to increase my disability payments, I have an older car, etc… etc…

Oh and here’s the kicker. HE LEFT WORD OF THIS ON MY VOICEMAIL. I saw he tried to call me about 30 times but I never answer when I know its him so I checked today on the last one it said “William (again with that BULLSHIT, its not MY NAME) if you speak to ****** (******* my brother, we were both named after Navy Admirals from WWII, quaint right?) and ****, they aren’t trying to hide anything from you. I wanted to give them this gift. Its what I can give according to the IRS. I know you hate me for whatever reason and this probably won’t help but I know your mother has been giving you money for rent for years now. It frankly is not fair that that you have been given this huge advantage and done nothing with it, while they worked hard to get where they are. I am evening the playing field so to speak between the three of you. I have talked with your mother and we have decided that we are not going to be paying your rent as of the new year. I feel so much guilt for our relationship and I want to get to know you better before its too late, but I can no longer in good conscience turn a blind eye while your mother supports your lifestyle. As always I am here to talk about this if you want”

So in addition to everything else he’s fucking STEALING from me. So added to all my other stresses I have to find a new fucking place to live during the holiday season. I tried calling my mother to stop this madness but she said she could not talk about it right now, whatever that is supposed to me.

I want to post the audio here but I’m sure someone would be able to identify my voice but at the very least I have it on audio tape, in his own voice that he does not support my lifestyle choices. FUCK YOU FATHER.

edit: I took out my brother and sisters names, on of my friends who edited this for me said that it might be possible to identify them by their first names. I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.

My response to selfishness from airline passengers

This is a cut and paste from a response to the amazing Dances with Fat, but I liked it so I decided to put it here as well:

I am very fortunate that when I do fly (which is not often) I always get to fly first class so I don’t deal with a lot of the “fatty on the airplane” stuff. My Mother carries a lot of guilt that she didn’t do more to stop the abuses of my fatphobic and homophobic Father so she is happy to dig into their deep pockets to ensure I’m comfortable on an airplane.

Having said that however, any person thin person who would give a fat person grief for “spilling” into their seat is absolutely lower than low.

So lets see “Mr/Mrs AllSpaceBelongsToMe” you are on a metal tube 10 feet in diameter flying through the air at 500mph getting to your destination in hours as opposed to months and someone touching you is a problem?

Let me ask you this “Mr/Mrs ImSoPrettyDontTouchMe” you have been bumped, pushed, prodded, rushed and crowded from the time you stepped in the airline line but all of the sudden my wide ass touching you in your 18inch space from my 18inch space is an issue? So skinny people doing all of the above was ok because its “part of air travel”, but my fat butt is an issue? Really? This is about space and not fatphobia?

Oh and another point “Mr/Mrs TheArmrestMustBeDown” Isn’t it entirely possible that I know far more about airplanes, physics, what to do in an emergency, etc… than you? You can’t judge a book by its cover and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be the one to save your life in the event of an emergency. Let’s me nice mmmm’kay?

And before I go “Mr/Mrs PaidTheSamePriceAsYou” doesn’t the airline accommodate luggage of all sizes? At the same price? You may continue to give me dirty looks all flight but shouldn’t your issue be with the airline and their desire to squeeze every penny out you and me? Shouldn’t it be us against them? Oh and don’t let anyone hit you on the back with that sour look on your face…it was stay that way forever!

Today I am going to be thankful…and not angry.

I started with a new therapist this week which to be is always quite scary because I really don’t like having to relive all my past traumas in order to get to today. The stories of growing up gay in the Navy world, my father who pressured me to be something that I’m not, always being compared to my very successful young brother and sister, being overweight (and on and on) are my past and I understand why a new therapist would need to know that stuff. Reliving it is no fun, however.

He is a gay man with a gorgeous office down the block from my condo in downtown San Diego so that makes it nice and close. But to say we didn’t hit it off is an understatement. After me talking and sobbing for about fifteen minutes he stopped me and said “Simon, you are very angry” to which I replied “goddamn right I’m angry, I’m in a world that hates me for all sorts of reasons, my father is a complete asshole despite being constantly lauded as an American hero (he won all sorts of metals in Vietnam war), my sister and brother dropped bombs on people in Iraq and Afghanistan, I have not had any sexual contact for almost 5 years…yes I’m angry”

His only word to me was “gratitude” to which of course I replied “huh?”

He said we wanted me to make a list of things I’m thankful for. Ok fair enough, yes I do not show enough gratitude.

1. I am thankful for my mother. I love our Sunday brunches together and I love our text conversations that will go on all day long.

2. I am thankful that my mother is helping me with my rent and healhty insurance while I work out my situation with the SSA (and by helping, I mean she’s paying my rent and health insurance…LOL)

3. I am thankful that my brother and sister have made it safely through their many deployments, although there isn’t one iota of me that agrees with why they were there.

4. I am thankful that I have made it to 46 years old while being fairly healthy.

5. I am thankful for fat advocacy, like the fearless gay advocates of years past, the people leading the charge are making my life better.


So there’s my list of five things. I will pull up this blog on our next appointment. Hopefully the next appointment goes better.


What are you thankful for?

I will officially move to Canada if Republicans win today

I flat our refuse to live in a country where a party as hateful as the Republicans can be in any sort of power. I am making the official announcement today, that if in fact the Republicans win the house and senate I will move to Canada.

Why you ask:

1. I cherish freedom most of all. I cherish the right of all people to do whatever they want. I cherish the right to be free from hateful speech and bullying. I cherish the right to be free from gun violence no matter when and where they are.

2. The Republicans are essentially the Nazi party. Yes this gets thrown around a lot but a study I read that was done at UC San Louis Ebispo, a group of students figured out that the current Republican party are more like the Nazis of 1930s Germany than any other party in the world. This includes the parties who have the word Nazi in their name!!

3. I think rich, privileged people should pay about a 75%-90% tax rate. They have gotten away with far too much for far too long.

4. I am a gay man. I fear for my safety in a country run by what are essentially Republican thugs.

So if they do win…does anyone have any recommendations on which city I should live in?

My war with reddit fatlogic and reddit fathate continues. I am a “troll” now.

One of the most wonderful things about the internet is that it gives people like who have extreme mobility issues a social outlet without having to leave the house. Since my life was threatened a few days ago by people on reddit fatlogic and reddit fathate (one is more aggressive, yet they share 100% of the same posters so it is silly to talk about them as separate entities) I have only left the house to go to my Sunday breakfast with Mother. Other than that I have been inside my house, kind of battening down the hatches, catching up on some netflix, and sending off seemingly hundreds of emails to the SSA about increasing my disability payments. With all that time spent online at places like imdb.com and http://forum.prisonplanet.com/ I know what a “troll” is. I am not a troll.

But lets be clear that these redditors are not using troll in the way that NORMAL people use it on the internet. i.e. someone who creates a false (or mostly false) identity on a internet forum to cause trouble (I have never done that, and never well. In fact the only thing false about me is that I use my gay name as opposed to my birth name…but I’ve insisted people call me Simon since I saw the super sexy Simon le Bon in the Rio video in the 80s…so sorry reddit, I’m real). No reddit uses troll as a further way to dehumanize me. They have called me beast, or the wonderful derivatives eatbeast and obeast) and planet or hamplanet. Why do the do this? Because they can’t handle that I exist. When small minded people are confronted with a new reality they doubt its existence. How many years did white Europeans continue to think the earth was flat after Columbus came to America (and this was THOUSANDS of years after tribes in Africa and Asia were conducting annual trade trips with tribes in America). Well the people of the fat hate reddits are nothing better than flat earth Europeans. They can’t imagine that someone can be healthy, happy, and live a full life as a fat gay man. So they do what they do…they dehumanize me. Pretend that I don’t exist.

Well, reddit fatlogic/fathate, I am here. Deal with it.

Well reddit fathate and reddit fatlogic are going crazy on me today.

So reddit fathate and reddit fatlogic have started at least three topics that are dedicated solely to me today. Here’s one:http://www.reddit.com/r/fatlogic/comments/2kowqd/simon_j_my_thin_friend_who_runs_triathlons/

Again, lovely people, aren’t they? They take a very intelligent post of mind dissect (19 different ways at last count) misconstrue my original point and then take it so the fat-hate is nearly off the charts. One comment (which I think was deleted) said something along the lines of “If I were to see that fat fag Simon J in an alley I would hate rape him…”  Yeah. Nice.

So I guess as a fat person, I’m not allowed to remark that is losing control of ones bowels is a sign of EXTREME unhealthyness. Right. I guess I’ll crawl back into my cave and shut the fuck up because I’m not worthy of your society.

I can only guess that my activism to have reddit fathate and reddit fatlogic banned completely are scaring them. That is a good thing.

Another good thing, I now have a great source to show “Roger” (no fathaters that’s not his real name!) the kind of company he keeps when he tells me how “worried” he is about me. Rog…I’m worried about you shitting your pants again, but I don’t have a hateful reddit page to back me up!