As I sit here, midday on my day off this week, I decided to start blogging this journey I'm starting. This is not the first time I've done this, although I sincerely hope this will be the last time. I am fat. FAT. Eff Ay Tee. I can help it, but it's hard.
I weighed in yesterday at 441lbs. This is the biggest weight I've ever been. EVER. I am ashamed. I am saddened. I feel overwhelmed. I know how I got here, I know how to get out, and yet, I struggle against myself.
I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. But I'm doing everything I can to kill myself. Why? I don't know. It's easier that way, I guess. Isn't that sad? I'd rather die than face the prospect of not eating fatty rich foods? That sounds like an addict. Can I use curse words in here? Because I do a lot in life, but I'd abstain. Anyhow, back to me... I take that bite of ice cream, and I contemplate on it and I make the conscious choice to eat this ice cream and die rather than pass on it and live. I am pathetic.
About a year ago, I started doing the dukan diet at around 436lbs. I journaled on the board there, optimistic about myself and my journey. And you know what? I lost weight. A few months in, my mother died. That was hard. Hard times. I made the decision to push through with the diet despite the pain I was feeling. Life was hard then. If I dwell on her death, it can still hurt. The emptiness is still there. But the point is I kept pushing on. My wife and my 10 year wedding anniversary was coming up in Sept and I wasn't going to let anything stand in my way of having the honeymoon we never had.
I lost nearly 70 lbs on the Dukan diet. I was the smallest I'd been for years. I felt great. Had tons of energy. Went on our anniversary trip and took a swan dive off that diet. Gained 10 pounds on our 10 day trip. When I returned, I never could get back on. By that time, it was the holidays, and again, without my mother, they felt odd. I turned to my old buddies in the food worlds, and started eating the wrong combinations of things, again.
And this is how I got to where I am today. Bigger than ever, feeling like I'm about to die any minute... yet I'm seriously considering going out for one more hoo-rah. I'm going to 'last hoo-rah' myself into ashes.
My wife and I did Dr. McDougall's eating program several years ago for 6 months or so. I'm not sure why we stopped. I'm not sure I was ever fully on board. I know I lost weight. I know we will lose weight again.
This morning I went to the store and bought some supplies like tupperware and dressing bottles and some vegetables. We aren't fully stocked yet, but it's a place to start. I had a potato and a cut up cucumber with some odd dressing I invented for breakfast. that was a few hours ago, and now I'm hungry again. I'll have to eat soon. I know I'm supposed to eat more often. I will.
I know this post seems rather negative. I'm just not in the mood right now to be all gung ho because I don't want to be so foolish. I will not fail, I will not fail, I will not fail. I am not planning to fail. I have two choices: follow through, or die. And I don't want to die... remember that line from earlier?
I'll write things down here explicitly. I am explicit.
To know something about me, I am 34, married with a 10 year old son. My wife and I can easily both lose 150 lbs. we will do this together.