Fucking prednisone. Fucking highly toxic steroid used to stop my body from ulcerating itself. Fucking side effects like insomnia, depression, manic behavior—and extreme hunger for garlic fries, tacos, and a bacon wrapped hot dog (my dinner last night). Fucking adrenal crisis I almost gave myself yesterday having forgotten to take my pill on time. Fucking moon face!
Prednisone causes face bloating. It doesn’t look cute and pleasantly plump. I hate the way I look with moon face and I hate it that I’m so vain. I’m upset about looking fat even though I know it’s better than being sick and in extreme pain. My friends tell me I look the same but they are lying to my puffy face.
Body image is in the news today because Glamour Magazine put Amy Schumer in the Chic at Any Size special addition without her permission. She tweeted, “I think there’s nothing wrong with being plus size” and, “Plus size is considered a size 16 in America. I go between a size 6 and an 8.” She was criticized for making the assumption that the magazine was calling her plus size just because her name was listed alongside Adele, Melissa McCarthy, and Ashley Graham under the heading Women Who Inspire Us.
I reread Ashley Judd’s 2012 op-ed in The Daily Beast regarding the rumors surrounding her own puffy face from prednisone. She writes about the Conversation, “We are described and detailed, our faces and bodies analyzed and picked apart, our worth ascertained and ascribed based on the reduction of personhood to simple physical objectification. Our voices, our personhood, our potential, and our accomplishments are regularly minimized and muted.” The plus size label is part of the Conversation. It picks us part. We are picked or parted.
It’s time to refer back to my Lennyscope. Stop mindfucking self. Stop picking myself apart. Stop! Change the Conversation.