Before I go any further, I should tell you, I’ve never been in a real prison; not the kind you are thinking, anyway. I’ve never even had any trouble with the law. No, my prison was of my own making. I had built it up around me, one block and one bar at a time. By the time I was well into middle age, I was securely “locked up,” with no escape in sight. When I was young, as far back as I can recall, I was called “fat boy,” “tubby,” and other unkind names, more than I care to mention here. There is an old saying: “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.” Well, truth be known, the names did hurt me; at least they hurt my feelings. The name calling got me into trouble because I would retaliate. Despite my size, I... Continue Reading
I was preparing for a gastric bypass surgery. I passed the screenings. When I passed the psych test, I thought: they do not really know me. I had them fooled, but if they said I was ready, I thought I’d go for it. I spoke with a coworker who gently and quietly suggested I go to a Thursday FA meeting. I decided I would check out a Tuesday meeting (no one I knew would be there). I parked the car and watched people go in. Most of them were in “normal” size bodies. I remember thinking that I didn’t see anyone waddling like I did. I call it the waddle walk, sort of like how Red Foxx walked in his character, Fred Sanford, on television. That is the way I normally walked. The people going in the door seemed to be thin and walking normally. Finally I saw a few... Continue Reading
From my earliest memory, I always had an issue with food. I loved food, especially sweet flour and sugar products. I couldn’t get enough. I always wanted meals as big as those of my brothers and dad, and it didn’t seem fair if I didn’t get what they had. The biggest part of my journey commenced when I was about 36 years old. A guy I was dating left me—he stated that I was too good for him. In truth, we met when I was dieting and he left when the weight came on. This was a pattern in my life: I would diet, meet a man, then put the weight on, and then they would leave. After this particular relationship, I attended a workshop called Relationships and You, in which a woman spoke to me about recovery and suggested that I attend Overeaters Anonymous (OA). This was the beginning... Continue Reading
Probably the first thing I learned from FA was the need to be painfully honest. I couldn’t afford to fool around anymore. I was 57 years old, 297 pounds, 5’2” tall, and on 11 different medications. I had just lost my little sister in January from multiple self-induced co-morbid (deadly) health conditions. She ate herself to 400 pounds. I had let myself get up to 364 pounds at my highest point. I lost 129 pounds through gastric bypass and put 65 pounds back on. I walked into FA absolutely desperate. I’d proved over and over again that my way didn’t work. I arrived at a meeting quietly and sat in the last row, the so called “denial aisle.” It wasn’t my first time in FA, but it was the first time I was really listening. I had decided that I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Who was I fooling? I... Continue Reading
I didn’t come into willingly. I was very angry and full of remorse and resentments. I weighed 347 pounds. However, that was not my top weight. I had been 360 pounds prior to my Vertical Banded Gastroplasty better known as a VBG. I lost 80 pounds in 3 months and it was back before I knew it was ever off my body. The surgeon recommended a support group for all patients who had the weight loss surgery. My life was a mess. I was over indulging in flour and sugar products after exercising vigorously on the elliptical machine. I would be in excruciating pain. Nonetheless, I would go over to the Walgreens and buy six of the sugar products they had on sale. The more exercise I did, the more I ate. I felt like the exercise gave me permission to eat whatever I wanted. One day I met this... Continue Reading
