Showing posts with label size prejudice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label size prejudice. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 8, 2023

Peace Not Perfection

  

Resolutions by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash


Making a resolution to set yourself up for disappointment year after year is the definition of both insanity and stupidity.

small changes are best

don't set yourself up to fail

peace, not perfection

notes

https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2012/11/carpe-diem-special-6-issa-years-first.html

This post discusses the work of Kobayashi Issa (1763-1823) and talks about reverence for the new year in classic Japan.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-8

Today's prompt asks participants to write a sentence poem. It has been quite a while since I wrote a One-Bun. This piece came to me like a flash--like a vision. I just wrote it down. Then I chose an image from Unsplash. Then I added text art to that image using Pixlr. You are welcome to share the image, but please credit Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl if you do. A link back to this blog would also be appreciated.

Over the years, I may have given the impression that I'm opposed to making New Year's resolutions. I'm not. I'm opposed to making stupid New Year's resolutions that benefit no one but the multi-billion-dollar diet industry. Stop giving those devils your money for crappy products that don't work. As for signing up for a gym membership, I'm all for trying to improve or maintain your fitness levels. Just do it for the right reasons, not to conform to a narrow standard of attractiveness. 

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~


Ornery Owl
"I resolve to keep improving my cooking skills in 2024."
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors



Hangry Wyrm
"I resolve to be your taste tester!"
Free use image from Clker Free Vector Images







Tuesday, October 17, 2023

Not Here to Please You

 

Image by Dina Dee from Pixabay


If you have a problem with my shape
I am here to tell you my body is not your business.
If my body is not pleasing to your eye
You are more than welcome not to look,
Or you can just fuck off.

notes


For today’s poem think about transformation: physical, situational, or otherwise.

I have an assortment of health problems, and my appearance is quite far from the socially prescribed ideal. I tried to hate myself thin for 33 years. Fortunately, I discovered size acceptance and the principles of Health at Every Size. 


These concepts helped me make peace with myself and encouraged me to take better care of the body I have rather than trying to force it to become something it will never be.

The attitudes society encourages towards larger people sicken me. 

Do you really think you're helping anyone by shaming heavy people?

Or are you just looking for a scapegoat?

If you weren't able to hate on fat people with impunity, who would you hate?

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~


Hangry Wyrm
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors

"No more starving ourselves, Owl! When's dinner?"


Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors

"Right now, Hangry. Dig in!"










Tuesday, November 15, 2022

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 15: Dawn Thoughts


Dawn Thoughts 2
See notes for image information

I once despised dawn

today I am glad of it

opportunity

new thoughts I can imagine

old pain I can put to rest

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Frauke Riether from Pixabay

notes and prompts



Told ya I was gonna keep on truckin' with the ekphrastic poems! Find the info below.

I created the header image by layering two photos and using special effects from Pixlr.com

Image by bess.hamiti@gmail.com from Pixabay

https://www.clevelandart.org/art/1938.6

Ancestral Commemorative Head (uhunmwun-elao)

possibly mid-1500s or early 1600s

Nigeria, Benin Kingdom, Ẹdo peoples, members of the Igun Eronmwon (royal brasscasters) guild

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-15

Write a thoughtful or thoughtless poem. I think today's Tanka is pretty thoughtful.


https://imprompt.wordpress.com/2022/11/08/day-8/

Write in praise.


Write an aubade. An aubade is a poem about dawn. It has no specific rhyme or rhythm scheme. 

Today's aubade praises the dawn, something I never thought I'd do again in this lifetime.

"Well, who hates the dawn, Ornery, you crusty old owl-crab? What kind of misanthropic curmudgeon doesn't love to see the sun come up on a new day?"

One who knows they probably have yet another day of bullying and abuse to look forward to.

One who will go to a job they hate. 

One who is grieving.

One who is traumatized.

Someone whose first waking thoughts are abusive rhetoric that has been drilled into their psyche. It has only been during this past year that my first thoughts on waking haven't been something along the lines of "you fat, disgusting pig, nobody could possibly love anything that looks like you. Eww, you're so gross! Why don't you just stop eating, Fatty?"

I didn't stop having these thoughts because I lost a semi truckload worth of weight and now I have a "revenge body." What a wretched concept. I'll likely always be fat unless my zombie thyroid suddenly revives and revs up my metabolism to transwarp 666 gazillion parsecs per nanosecond, turning me from a portly and perpetually pissed-off prairie witch to a svelte Borg siren existing for the sole purpose of serving man.

In other words, not gonna happen.

Nope, I finally realized how horrible and shitty diet culture really is and concluded that anyone hell-bent on judging a person based on their physical appearance rather than their personality is someone whose opinion matters no more to me than a gnat's fart in a category 15 hurricane. In other words, less than not at all. 

This realization was even more freeing than the day I decided I was tired of being blonde and stopped bleaching my hair to hide the gray.  I started going gray at 27. I have thick, somewhat coarse hair that tends to be resistant to coloring, so I started bleaching it. My hair became very dry and brittle, having the approximate texture of straw, and it was falling out. I decided I no longer gave any fucks about people thinking I'm (gasp) old, and I dropped the bleach habit.

I used henna to color my hair for a while, not because I cared about hiding the gray but because I found it fun to dye my hair different wild shades of blonde, brown, black, or red. Unfortunately, I developed an allergy to henna, which caused big flakes and scabs to form on my scalp. I now use silver brightening shampoo and a color-depositing conditioner to enhance the silver tones. I'm pleased with how shiny and soft my hair is since I started this routine.

I really don't care if anyone thinks someone else's physical appearance is unattractive or "unhealthy." Let's face it, the "for your health" screed really isn't about health. It's code for "but fat people are ugly and you have such a pretty face and if you'd just lose (insert arbitrary amount of weight here) you'd be fuckable." People are going to think what they're going to think. The more enlightened among us check our prejudices and call ourselves out on our bullshit. 

People's bodies are nobody's business but their own. If you feel the urge to insult someone's appearance, whether simply to be hurtful or because you believe you're being "helpful," I suggest taking ten steps in the other direction and going in search of your beeswax elsewhere. Other people's bodies are none of your beeswax.  

Nobody deserves the dawn thoughts I woke up to for decades. Don't be the person who awakens such thoughts in someone else.


Here is some gorgeous background music from Mirror's Edge Catalyst.

Here is the link in case you can't see the player.


But wait, there's more!


Once again, here's the link in case you can't see the player.


Building this post is taking a while. Here's some more background music from Mirror's Edge Catalyst.

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.

Monday, November 7, 2022

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 7: Adapt or Die

 

"Adapt or die, foolish little fool!" the intimidating alien rumbled.

I, however, refused to be shaken, no matter how he grumbled.

"Hah!" I snorted. "For something so impressive in appearance, you certainly lack cleverness.

"Anyone can see that I am far from little.

"My ass is large, and so is my middle."

"Yes, and you've had to find the key to adapting to such undesired conditions, haven't you?" the being inquired pensively. 

"Your luck has not been exactly stellar, wouldn't you agree?

"What you found when you were transported over the rainbow was not what you hoped to see.

"When you shuffled off to the pier to see if your sacred ship had come in,

"Mawkish mediums informed you that your destiny was arriving at the airport too far in the distance for you to find redemption."

"Indeed, and when I asked them to elaborate, they promised to do so for a small fee equal to several of my paychecks," I replied. "I had a suspicion that they might have lied, so I decided I didn't care a shingle for their advice and proceeded to do things my way from that day forward."

"And how is that working out for you?" the alien, who now suspiciously resembled Dr. Phil, pressed.

"Probably better than the flashy fairy tale I once believed was my destiny," I sentimentally surmised, as glimmers of dreams of what might have been glittered in my eyes, overflowing down my face. "I'm pleased that I'm not surrounded by fake people to annoy me, but there have been times in my life when loneliness threatened to destroy me.

"I've discovered first-hand that no one cares how the disabled, elderly, and downtrodden fare.

"If you aren't young and you aren't pretty, nobody wants to see you anywhere.

"The liberal elite as much as the rigid right would prefer that the likes of me die and decrease the surplus population.

"Society cares only about the up-and-coming, not those nearing their destination.

"Age bias is rampant, the outsides given more weight than what lies within.

"If I were at all religious, I'd say it's a goddamn sin.

"Being a caustic agnostic, I'll just say it's a crying shame.

"Every year I hope for improvement, and every year it's always the same."

"Yet still you keep on kicking," the alien said, impressed. "I hope to meet more folk like you in my travels--ugly, angry, disabled, fat old women are the best!"

As the alien took off in his spaceship, I couldn't help but grin.

If we'd care more about what's on the inside, a better world could begin.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~


Ornery Owl
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors


Free use image by Clkr Free Vector Images on Pixabay

Hangry Wyrm sez:
"I really ate this story up. Five out of five stars! Can we have breakfast now?"


Get your groove on with this melodic deep house mix.

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.




Here's another Deep House mix in case you happen to be bogged down with formatting an hour later. Like, you know, not me. I never get bogged down with formatting, or editing, or, you know, anything, because I'm completely perfect and do everything right the first time. First draft? Hah! You mean only draft, Sunshine, because I'm just that good!

I'm off to find someplace to hide my metric butt-ton of bullshit now. Here's the link in case you can't see the player. 


notes and prompts used


The prompt requests:
"For this challenge, let’s go on a wild walk together. Report on what you’ve found and the lessons you’ve learned."

While my piece did not address nature as such, it addresses the sometimes difficult lessons I've learned about myself in my nearly 60 years walking this planet. I honestly don't think I would have survived those "Hollywood dreams" I had in my youth. I'm a sensitive soul, though I seem thick-skinned.


Today's challenge asks participants to create a poem about adaption.


I almost forgot about this prompt. I'll probably play catch-up with it over the next few days. Today's suggestion is:

"Another form of being has just communicated something to you...Write down 5-10 words, to fix the moment forever in your mind then use those words to write about something else."

This prompt gave me the idea of the alien communicating with me.


Word List

key

rainbow

distant/distance

shuffle

transport/ed

shingle

redemption

pier

mediums

sacred

elaborate

suspicion

also sharing with



Wednesday, September 14, 2022

30 Days of Haiga 2022: The House of Dark Dreams

 

Original image
Murmuration by Lee Madgwick
Used with permission of the artist


text

my favorite tales

born in the house of dark dreams

conceived in shadow


notes

I'm grateful for today's prompt from D'Verse Poets, which provided me with the amazing artwork used to create the Haiga.

https://dversepoets.com/2022/09/13/the-strange-houses-of-lee-madgwick/

I'm okay with you using the Haiga if you wish, but you will have to credit both me (Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl) for the digital manipulation, text art, and poem and the original image creator Lee Madgwick. For me, a link back to this blog is acceptable. Here is a link to Mr. Madgwick's website. https://leemadgwick.co.uk/

I used Pixlr.com to create the text art and the decaying effects used on the image.

I've got a few thoughts, but nobody is beholden to stick around for them.

This day started badly. One reason it's hard for people with psychological issues to maintain relationships is that prospective partners think they can fix us, but when depression or anxiety flares up (or never completely leaves) said partner becomes put out that they have not, in fact, fixed us. The trauma that led to my multiple nervous breakdowns occurred 25, 30, 40, or even 50 years ago. I should be over it, especially if I received the wondrous healing love that we're all taught to expect will totally happen if we're worthy of it, right?

I don't have a partner and I won't again. I no longer see this as a failing on my part or see myself as a failure because I just don't do romance right. I am just learning at nearly 60 years old to respect and care for myself. That it is necessary to be coupled to be a complete human being is an erroneous idea that does many people a great disservice. Some of us truly are better off without it.

I also found myself yet again explaining to some know-it-all who totally understands how metabolic health and issues like poverty, stress, and food insecurity work (bask in the sarcasm, I've slathered it on with a trowel) that a "war on Teh Obeesiteee" in which individuals are shamed for their physique and assumed to be constantly shoveling "bad food" into their gobs and never lifting a finger to do anything but play video games is not only ineffective but harmful.

After that, I was just tired and discouraged. Sometimes I tire of explaining reality to dimwits, especially dimwits who want to keep on feeling morally superior for their simple-minded stance on complex issues. I also caught (probably) a cold last week. So I took a nap.

I still felt bad about myself when I woke up from my nap, but as I worked on today's Haiga challenge, I started feeling better. Then I was able to remember something I already know.

Fat is not the worst thing a person can be.

However, being a sanctimonious jerk who shames other people's bodies is bone-headed and boorish.

I'd rather be fat than a boorish bonehead.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~


Ornery Owl
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors


Hangin' with Hangry Wyrm
If you're Hangry--eat!
Free use image from Pixabay



Tuesday, April 12, 2022

April PAD Challenge/NaPoWriMo Day 12



Hello Poetry People! Today I've selected the Romantic Collection from Blackmore's Night to inspire our poetry adventures. Don't feel like I'm telling you that you must write about something romantic. I didn't. The music helps me relax and get where my soul wants to take me on my poetic journey.

Did I just use the word "journey?" Crap!

"Journey" is one of those words that gets overused a lot. But since our souls are on a journey, some on a more perilous one than others, I'll stand by it.

The Bigger They Are

Prompts Used

Write a poem about a very small thing

Prompt word: board

prompt words:
angel and devil
back and front

look and see what is present, in your surroundings and/or your heart, and write of that. Limit 369 words.

The cruel way that larger people are treated is always present in my heart, particularly the way fat women are both denigrated and sexualized. Since the "fattest thing I've ever done" is existed, I can't say "today I'm going to take off the fat suit and enjoy life being treated as a human being." It doesn't work that way.

Being born female insures harassment regardless of size, and this is reflected in the poem.



Write a counting and/or not counting poem

That's all the damage I can do around this pop stand today. I'll return tomorrow with another music prompt.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Marlies Lüer from Pixabay







Monday, April 11, 2022

April PAD Challenge/NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 11



Hello Poetry People. My piece today went in a feminist direction, and not the sexy fun kind. I'll give you the prompts I used and then explain my inspiration.

True Power

Prompts Used

Write a poem about a very large thing

Write a power poem

I am a very large female thing and it's no secret that large women get shit on by society. However, some of you may find it hard to believe is big women are both reviled and targeted as conquests by creepy men who think we're all desperate and easy marks. In my case, you can add being socially awkward and now physically disabled to the mix. 

The end result? Being hit on by the same nasty-ass men who make rude comments about my body because they don't think I have the self-respect to tell them to fuck off entirely.

Being desirable to men is not my life's purpose and it shouldn't be any woman's life's purpose. If that man doesn't like me for me, even if he deigns to accept me despite my being fat and "ugly," what the fuck do I need his useless ass around for? I don't. 

Never accept someone's emotional abuse. You deserve better than that. And, if you happen to be large in a society that keeps trying to sell us dumb diet plans that don't work, fuck that emotional abuse too.



Here's a bonus track for today's inspiration. Someone made a cool animation for Helen Reddy's beautifully eerie song Angie Baby. I hope you enjoy it!



~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~


Fat and Ornery
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors


Hangry Wyrm says "Riots, not diets!"
Free use image from Pixabay


Saturday, October 17, 2020

Big Fat Obsession

 

Free use image from Pixabay

content warning:
if you're offended by cussing
I don't give a fuck

 my blood reveals the faults in my stars
or at least in my DNA
my bones are strong, what can I say
my breath often spews forth in the ragged hacking
of an asthmatic cough
my heart, broken many times
beats strong and regular beneath my sagging breasts
in fact, medical people have commented favorably
on my hardy heart
but in the end, nobody sees a goddamn thing about me
except for my belly
which they've deemed too full of jelly
and my ample ass
so every day when I wake up
the first thing I have to do after taking a piss
is tell myself that I deserve to live
and that I don't deserve to be treated like shit
just because I'm fat
and if your thought starts with "well, if you'd just lose weight"
then you can fuck right off
along with everyone else who ever pounded this hate into my head
because I just did that a lot of times
until my body decided
I couldn't do that anymore
diets don't work
and you shouldn't treat people like trash
even if you don't think they're pretty

~cie~


For more pissed-off poetry written by an angry fat bitch, go here


This poem was posted to these places:

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Copyright Information
The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)
Copyright 2020 by Naughty Netherworld Press/Poetry of the Netherworld

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Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

Tuesday, April 14, 2020

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 14 + April PAD Challenge 2020 Day 14: Your Legacy

Image by Barbara Bonanno from Pixabay

I
am not
what you hoped
but I am, nonetheless
the legacy that you created
I am your Frankenstein monster
built from the things
that made your life
worth living
I am a
twisted
sorry
awful
mockery
a failure
of a person
I am not 
what you hoped
but I am, nonetheless
the gifts you gave me

~cie~



NaPoWriMo: write a poem about the people who inspired you to write poems

April PAD Challenge: write a form poem

notes
I think the shape above is a chess pawn. It started out as a simple diamante but turned into what you see. It is what it is.

This poem addresses my late father. He was a professor of literature and humanities who also taught technical writing. I was a precocious little skidmark who learned to read and write by the time I was four years old. I think my father believed that this prodigious spark meant that I was destined for greatness. He read poetry to me. I started reading Edgar Allan Poe's works when I was six years old.

My father wound up tremendously disappointed in me. I was a fuckup who could never do anything right and I had a slew of psychological problems. I was singled out and abused by my peers. I married too young. I had one abusive relationship after another. I engaged in self-harm. Possibly, worst of all, between a fucked endocrine system and years of yo-yo dieting, I ended up fat. My father believed that being fat was a sign of failure. He always went to great lengths to prevent himself from being fat. He ran six miles a day for many years. However, his vascular system was a disaster. He had a major hemorrhagic stroke at 68 years old. At the time of his death at age 74, he had suffered several more strokes, had congestive heart failure and vascular dementia, and was confined to a wheelchair.

If anyone's first inclination is to tell me "cHeEr Up, U cAn StiLLL LUz3 tEh WaTeZ!!111!!!" my suggestion to you is to check the ever-loving fuck out of yourself. Preferably on ice during a hockey game. I tried to hate myself thin for 33 years. With my endocrine problems, it is highly unlikely that I will ever be thin unless I do what my great-grandmother did. She developed acute myelogenous leukemia, dropped from 300 pounds to 95 in the space of a year, and dropped dead. But hey, she cut a svelte figure in her coffin, and, apparently, that's the only fucking thing that counts. Never mind that she was now, you know, DEAD.

In any case, I'm not going to waste another goddamn minute of my time trying to hate myself into the body that other people think I'm supposed to have. Thirty-three years of that shit is long enough. People who think I, or anyone else should do that, can slam down a hot, steaming cup of STFU, read the following fine books, and fuck off forever. Or if you're not a brainwashed, narrow-minded asswipe and you simply think: "say, those books look like they have some good information," you can read them while drinking what you want and omit the fucking off part. I'd think that was pretty cool.


Tuesday, December 31, 2019

The Cheese Grates It: Goals for 2020

Image by Annalise Batista from Pixabay

I refuse to do New Years' resolutions. Those always imply crap like "New You in 52," which, of course, means diet culture. I raised the middle finger to diet culture closing in on ten years ago, and I'm damn well not sorry. I suppose it will be a battle every day of my life till the day I die to be treated as a human being without buying into the same shit that never worked for me in 33 years of yo-yo dieting and trying to hate myself thin, but it's a battle that I will fight.

Here are my big fat goals for 2020.

To format and release my first non-erotic published work in 13 years. Ketil and Yitzy's Adventure in the Xura Dream House is finished. I am currently in the process of editing and formatting it. It will be published in January of 2020.

To start publishing my poetry. I am currently formatting a book called The Poetic Rejects of 2019, which will, as the name implies, contain all my rejected poems from the past year. It may also contain some rejected prose, depending on the length of the piece.

To continue to submit works here and there, now and then, all the while giving no fucks whether or not they are accepted or published.

To continue working on and publishing my own stories, regardless of whether or not anyone else likes or reads them.

Basically, to survive another year.

Oh, I do have one resolution.

I resolve that I will never again do anything like the Battle of the Poems.

That was really stupid of me, and I'm dreadfully sorry.

Best wishes to you, whatever your goals are in 2020. 

You are welcome to have resolutions, but if they are diet-y resolutions, I don't want to hear about them any more than I want to hear about your bowel movements.

I guess I have one more resolution.

I resolve to keep bringing the snark in 2020. It is my goal to make the ghost of Ambrose Bierce proud.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~



I still miss these fuckers. Just sayin'.


Thursday, July 25, 2019

Carpe Diem Summer Challenge 2019: Beach Party for Every Body

Image by David Shaw from Pixabay

What I have been wondering for a long time is this.

Why is it that when you have a bunch of stupid guys on a beach and a person with the “wrong” kind of body walks by, and they yell terrible and mean-spirited things at this person who is minding their own business,

Why is everyone’s response to ignore and even justify their behavior rather than shouting them down?

Why shouldn’t everyone be allowed to relax and have fun at the beach or the pool?

Why is it only fun for those whose bodies have been deemed attractive enough?

Why shouldn’t fat people and skinny people and people with scars and stretch marks and ladies with saggy boobs and men with round pot bellies and hairy folks and scrawny scarecrow guys and gals with arms and legs like Betty Spaghetti have a nice time too?

I think it’s rather boring when the only people who can go for a swim without feeling self-conscious and like they must keep covered up are young people with the “right” kind of body.

Shouldn’t we have gotten past the idea that the only people whose bodies should be seen are sleek, unblemished, photoshopped visions of pornographic “perfection?”

Shouldn’t the beach be a place where everyone can cool off, not yet another spot where only the hottest hotties are allowed?

Beach parties are fun
For those with the right body
Not so much for those
Whose bodies have been deemed wrong
Ignoring not an option


~Cie~


Monday, October 22, 2018

OctPoWriMo 2018: Day 22: A Palindrome for my Pancreas

An artistic depiction of my pancreas

Betrayal in honesty
No loyalty offered
Deception not really
Not dishonesty
Without grace
Though there was duplicity
There wasn't mercy
You weren't exactly lying
You have not forgiveness
Forgiveness not have you
Lying exactly weren't you
Mercy wasn't there
Duplicity was there though
Grace without
Dishonesty not
Really not deception
Offered no loyalty
Honesty in betrayal

~Cie~


Note:
Pardon my brutal honesty, but my endocrine system is a fucking trash fire. My thyroid decided to immolate itself when I was sixteen. My ovaries became cystic, shitty little bastards. My periods were from hell. I developed endometriosis. I don't know when I started developing fibroids, but I have a uterus full of the damn things, and it's coming out at the end of the year. 
At least with the thyroid, I just have to take pills, although sometimes the dose has to be adjusted down because they can jack up my blood pressure and pulse rate. My thyroid may still have some of its own function, but it's completely abnormal.
Then there's my pancreas.
My pancreas waited until I was 49 to decide to fuck me over.
At first, I took pills, but then they stopped working sufficiently. Besides, I don't like having to carry around a spare pair of pants, and the less said about that, the better.
Then I had to start injecting long-acting insulin (Levemir).
Now I inject the long-acting insulin at noon and midnight and the rapid-acting insulin before meals.
"It's soooo much fun having a zombie pancreas," declared the queen of sarcasm.
By the way, diabetes cannot be cured, so don't tell me about how if I just drink a gallon of vinegar at every full moon while pouring ice cubes down my pants and sprinkling pepper in my hair I will be cured of diabetes.
In rare cases, type 2 diabetes goes into remission. This is not the same thing as being cured. Like cancer, a person with diabetes in remission is always more vulnerable to a recurrence of the disease than a person who has never had diabetes.
Further, I would like to see the word "diabetes" stricken from the medical lexicon and replaced with "hypopancreatism," which is a much more accurate term.
Diabetes is an ancient Greek term which translates loosely to "evil pissing" because of the increased urination that is part and parcel of the hell that is this stupid disease. Besides, it's a loaded term. People love to say it with a sneer as if those who end up with it "brought it on themselves" by "eating too much sugar.'
The cause of hypopancreatism is having a genetic trigger for the disease. A person who does not have the genetic trigger will never get the disease no matter how much sugar they consume.
People living with food insecurity are more vulnerable to activating the genetic trigger for the disease than people who have a reliable supply of nutritious food. However, the disease can strike anyone with the genetic trigger, regardless of their physique or social standing. Age increases the likelihood of developing type 2 hypopancreatism.
So, I am not calling the disease by its ancient Greek name anymore, although I do think that "evil pissing" is a pretty cool term. I would like to see the stigma attached to the condition eradicated.
And now, I need to go inject my wonderful basal insulin.
People who don't have the condition think that having to poke oneself with needles is the worst part of the disease. It really isn't. Often I don't even feel the needle. If I hit a tender spot, I experience minor pain. No big whoop. 
What I hate the most is the way the disease curtails my independence.
And that is why I leave this with a big FUCK YOU to my zombie pancreas and my crap endocrine system as a whole. I sometimes wonder what my life could have been like if I hadn't been easily fatigued and depressed for most of it and accused of being lazy every step of the way.