knifegill right here is where i mean in your PM.Ha-ha. What a mess. So many assumptions on both sides of this fence it's laughable. You are all a little right, and a little wrong. Somewhere between defining how fat a person has to be to be called "fat", and pretending that fit people critical of fat people's eating habits feel moral superiority, a rift has developed. Slice off the erroneous assumptions on both sides and we're actually all in agreement.
As a former fattie who now looks healthy and eats well, I feel no superiority whatsoever. Mostly anger at a broken food system, and disappointment at how willing people are to just throw in the towel. Most morbidly obese people have been gradually gaining weight for decades. By the time that person needs a cane or wheelchair, they should be pissed off and angry enough to find the truth. When my entire body hurt for "no reason" and I was walking with a cane at 215 pounds, I was pissed off. Perhaps my life-long distrust in authority has helped me learn to dig. Mostly, I was just lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time often enough to build a decent picture of my country and how messed up it really is. Living in your car for around two years and hanging out with homeless people - because you are one - will teach you more than words can really express about social injustice, the victim mentality, missed opportunities and intentional self-destruction and motivations for such behaviors.
From living in a trailer on beer and ramen noodles in my late teens and early twenties all the way to married and buying a home, I am an exception to the rule. The dice rolled and I got blessed, lucky, and a second chance that I did not deserve any more than any other malnourished-while-obese, marginally employed, under-educated person. It's come down to finding a mentor, asking for help, and admitting I was wrong about life, the universe and everything. I was able to quit drinking because rehab taught me how to think. I DID NOT KNOW HOW TO THINK. I let animal, angry thoughts guide my actions - uncontrolled, waiting to kill or be killed, while nothing was actually wrong! I had to journal my thoughts and let a counselor walk me through everything. And I actually wrote everything down, to their horror. I wanted the truth, I knew I was dying, and I LET GO of my rights, my freedom, my sense of right and wrong - because they weren't working. They were killing me. People who can't do that, who can't stop doing what kills them, I feel sympathy and rage for. I want to slay their demons, and I can't. And that frustrates me SO MUCH.
It would take a whole book to tie this all together perfectly, but I hope you can see what I mean.