I am 5’11” and weigh 430 pounds as of today, April 6, 2013. I have over 250 pounds to lose. I’ve tried a lot of diets, but have not stuck with it for very long. I am a food addict, a sugar addict and emotional eater. I started this blog so I could have a place to rant and rave about the troubles I’ve caused and my progress in attempting, once again, weight loss.
I’m open to suggestion. Feel free to share your struggles and triumphs in comments or email me. If you are rude or mean, I will block you. I don’t need to hear shit from anyone and you are not God’s gift to the obese so shut the fuck up bully! Clear enough? Good.
This morning I started the day by realizing my silver Trek bike had been stolen from my enclosed front porch sometime within the last six months. I only rode it once last year sometime in late summer. It was a frightening experience since the previous year I had fallen off it and torn the meniscus in my right knee, which caused a lot of pain and required surgery. Getting back on the bike a year later was terrifying, so no wonder I didn’t miss it until this morning now that the weather is getting warmer. I called the police and reported it stolen, gave them the serial number and then took a drive to the local pawn shops and consignment bike shops here in town. None of them had taken in a Trek bike.
Looking online for a new bike, I sought one that could hold at least 450 pounds. My choices were very few and expensive. Looks like I’ll have to use walking as my choice exercise in order to lose weight.
Earlier this month, I started back to Medical Weight Loss Clinic and had lost in one week 16 pounds on their diet plan. I thought it was too good to be true because by Wednesday of this week I had regained 5 of it, by Friday, I had gained another 4 and today, Saturday, I gained all but 5 pounds back.
Frustrated and angry at my failure, I ate and ate. I’ve been eating for the past two days (and I wonder why I cannot lose or keep the weight off that I lose). Yesterday, I bought four 8 ounce (or more) chocolate peanut butter cups at the dollar store only they weren’t filled with peanut butter but with a creamy, frosting-like substance. Yummy!
Today, still frustrated, I took a cake mix, added water, and put it in a bowl in the microwave. I ate most of it.
I am in therapy for food addiction, which doesn’t seem to be doing much for me other than giving me someone to talk to about why I choose to continue to hurt myself with food. As I told my therapist I don’t think I have a bottom, meaning alcoholics can hit bottom for some it is when they sober up in a hospital room wearing an adult brief laying in their own piss and shit, yeah if you are an alcoholic and are being detoxed in the hospital or don’t keep yourself drunk enough, you will piss and shit yourself until you get that next drink. What a lovely picture that makes. It doesn’t matter if you are a clean cut CEO or a street rat…detoxing a drunk is the same for everyone.
Being 430 pounds hurts emotionally, but physically too. Climbing the stairs is painful. I have to hold to the rail and take the stairs one by one. At the store, I use a basket to walk the store. I wear out pretty easily and have to find a place to sit, usually this is in the furniture section or on a bench, etc.
One of the things I am very thankful for is that I do not have any co-dependent people in my life. If I did, I would probably be 500-700 pounds by now. Why? It’s because when you have people in your life that enable you to eat poorly, that do your shopping for you and buy unhealthy things, that go to fast food restaurants and bring home bags of .99 cent hamburgers, they are enabling your unhealthy lifestyle by their actions. Maybe your family likes you obese. Are you easier to control this way? More predictable? No man would dare look at you so your jealous boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife won’t have to worry about losing you to someone else? What is the reason fr their enabling?
For me, I did this to myself as a means of punishing me for bad choices, for choosing to live alone and not marry, for choosing to fail at so many things I’ve tried. Failing is a lot easier than succeeding. It takes a lot less energy. I’ve spent so much energy failing that I don’t have any energy left to succeed. So many excuses.
Oh yeah, this is not going to be a nice blog filled with comfort and joy. No, it’s going to contain my frustration and anger over my choosing to fail. Let’s hope that somewhere in my journey I learn to love myself where I am and choose to change and get a hold of this eating disorder before it kills me.