Determined To Succeed

Day fifty-three (and day two of my cold).

Hey there, everybody. I am in day two of my cold. Ugh again, although not as ugh-y as yesterday. My brain still feels two sizes too big for my cranium and my eyes feel like bloated pin cushions. Other than those things, and my general lack of all things even minutely related to energy, I am doing OK. But I ate like absolute crap yesterday, though. I guess I did what I was supposed to do, meaning eating to “feed a cold,” but I hate that often when we get sick we eat what sounds good instead of what is good.

I started out the day doing so-so. I re-heated some beef fried rice and part of a leftover egg roll. Mmmmmm, the breakfast of champions. Then, as the day progressed (and my dosage of Tylenol increased) I ate a can of Hormel chili. It was hot and good and felt even better on my aching throat. But then the inspiration hit me (and my taste buds). Strawberry ice-cream. Man, not only did it sound good but it’s what I couldn’t stop thinking about all yesterday afternoon. Damnit…

I did my best to resist but it was just too much. So, I finally took a (much-needed) shower and headed to the store. I was lucky my ice-cream was in stock and I took it despite the absolutely insane convenience store price. Sigh. I got back home and slowly devoured it, allowing chunks of the frozen goodness to coat my throat on the way down. Man, I wish they could bottle that. I would have bought that instead.

Later on, I ended up having my throat go back into hurting mode so I had some hot and sour soup and a couple of egg rolls and, yes, another delicious pint of strawberry ice-cream. In no way, shape or form the healthiest meal on the planet. Shit, far from it. But two important things. One, it sounded good and when you are sick you should eat what sounds good. Two, the hot and peppery taste of the soup helped my throat, as did the ice cold goodness of the ice-cream. So can I write off ice-cream and Chinese food for “medicinal purposes on my taxes?” Hmmmmmm… And that was my night, laying on the couch flipping through channels watching bits of this and chunks of that. And you bloody-well know you’re sick when you even tune in to about 45 minutes of a movie on Lifetime. LIFETIME!!!!! Man, I must have had a fever.

Today I am up two-and-a-half pounds but that’s O.K. I will work it off (sigh) again. The best thing I can do right now if get my energy levels going again so I can fight this stupid thing we call the common cold. Also, since I feel a bit better, I’m going to eat healthier today and have salads and maybe soup since I am not quite yet up to exercising strength yet. This way I am not eating crap and at least doing better in one area so that by tomorrow (hopefully) I can get back to getting pumped to sweat and have a great workout…

…until then, there is this marvelous invention called a comfy couch and I am going to make the best use of it and the next best invention, the remote control. And even though my head still feels puffy I promise I will skip over Lifetime. And O.K., Lifetime’s movies aren’t all that bad. Hell, the crap they make for Syfy is horrible sometimes. But still, if I can’t find a decent movie on-air or on-demand then I should just go to bed, the best invention of all, and sleep. Have a great (and hopefully healthier) day.

Day fifty-two.

Ugh. I have a cold and I feel like crap today. It started with the always-suspicious scratchy, drippy throat yesterday. As soon as I felt it start I knew I was in for it, but I fought the brave fight. Even at my meeting last night I nursed a 32-ounce (!) hot tea from McDonald’s (one of the only things I will but from them AND it was on the way) complete with honey. I tried but, alas, the common cold won and today my throat is swollen and hurts like a mutha’, I have a slight fever and I am run down. As I said before…ugh!

I know I need to conserve strength today and rest. The problem inherent with that (and feeling like crap) is that you don’t feel like working out AND you need your strength to fight the bug so you have to eat. I don’t know about you but even looking at food sometimes adds inches to my thighs and belly, let alone actually having it. Double ugh! But I know that’s what I need and I will do it so I can get better faster (damned air-conditioning inside/humid-hot weather outside).

Despite feeling crappy, last night’s meeting was awesome. So many of us were sharing stories about ourselves and how we turned to food as comfort to help deal with shame, pain and events in our lives we all wanted to push down and forget. It was amazing learning that much more about the guys in the group, and oh how it helps knowing I’m not the only one who used/uses food to do that. Wow. So cool (yet so sad), indeed.

Food is always a temptation, isn’t it? No matter where you live you can always find some semblance of your “comfort foods” from childhood, your favorite ice-cream at the store, egg rolls, sandwich, loaded french fries, etc. Man, I wish I could go back in time and invest in then up-and-coming companies like Coke, Hostess and the like. This way, as I got to 400 pounds I’d me helping to make myself rich in the process (just a little fat humor there). I also wish I knew why food almost always is used to dull pain. I know the scientific reasons – that it triggers the release of dopamine (sp) and seratonin (sp) in the brain (pleasure chemicals) that make us feel euphoric. But I am talking about the actual WHY we search for pleasure in food.

Maybe it is because it is a constant. Maybe we always turn to food because it is always there, no matter where we live in the world. While so many of us feel fears of abandonment in life we know food won’t do that. It IS always there, readily available and standing by. (Shaking head) I see now how it works. See, this is how my brain functions when it’s got a fever and I’m feeling crappy. I just start thinking about the great mysteries of life and how to solve them. That’s why when we (O.K., I) move to a new area we both seek out and are bombarded with ads for easy foods like pizza. It is recognizable and, despite its many variations, pizza, after all, is pizza.

My friends, you’re gonna have to forgive me today for the blog being short and incoherent but, after a hard day of waking up with a cold, I need to go back to resting. But I will be going back to thinking about the why’s I ate/eat the way I did/do. Sure we need food but we don’t NEED food as much as we think we do. Sometimes just knowing we are not alone and can talk to people is more than enough to satisfy our real craving – for human company and understanding.

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Day fifty-one.

This morning I am thinking about demons. Demons that seem unstoppable and invincible. Demons that, no matter what, can stand up to even time itself, the supposed great healer of all. Well, there are some things that time doesn’t take away, like pain. For example, it’s been almost a year and four months already since my mom, JoAnn Larson, passed away and I still feel that moment as if it were yesterday. I still feel the absence of her on this earth and, from what I hear from others who’ve lost parents, always will. Sure, time takes away some of the immediate sting but it never takes away the memory of the pain itself, and oh, how I wish it did.

When I was a child I was so ashamed of how I was living the shame became a tangible thing I touched every day. I felt my surroundings not only around me but inside me. I became saturated by the sights, sounds and smells of where I was living. I felt the roaches crawl on my skin. I could almost feel the gritty dirt on the faded light green of the walls. I smelled the accumulated smells in the carpet in the long hallway of my apartment building floor as the building passed into decrepit oblivion – the dust, garbage, people, old food, must and rodents all part of a gigantic trap from which I felt no release. Hell, I am also quite sure I went to school smelling of old cigarettes, since my mother loved unfiltered Pall Malls and we did live in one very small room. To this day I cannot stand the smell of old cigarette smoke which does get everywhere instantly no matter what a smoker might tell you to the contrary. That is a pain from which I have been removed for more than twenty years but which still helped define me, both in good ways and bad.

The pain and shame of that place, combined with burying that pain and numbing it with X, Y and Z helped to create an addict, one that became seriously addicted to food as part of a cycle that led me to my life’s rock bottom. Then, lump on other unhappinesses, disappointments, anger, the inability to express myself, job stress, relationship bullshit and more and, over the years, the pain and shame became sentient, a living breathing demon who still inhabits parts of my brain and soul.

When you train yourself to numb things it is very hard to not numb them anymore. Food tastes good. I love good Chinese food (notice I said GOOD Chinese food, like Chicago good not Jersey/Philly so-so), I love sweet rolls (good bakery sweet rolls like my mom and I used to get on Sundays to eat while reading the paper), I love ice-cold Coca-Colas which at one point were bottles of ice-cold Pepsi, I love mashed potatoes, fried things, chocolate things, buttery things, Italian Beefs, cheesesteaks, french fries…I love it all. But I was “using,” using all that and more to numb a pain and truth which I have only recently come to grapple with and understand. Once I did that I was truly able to see food and other things weren’t enjoyable, they were the heroin I injected into my veins to make the world and its reality go away for just a little while.

That is addiction. That is food addiction. When using what is normal, everyday, commonplace pleasurable and warping it into something that not only is bad but also feeds the demon(s) born from long days ago. That is how demons can withstand the test of time.

I am doing my absolute best to curtail these demons and live a healthier, happier life. In fact I’m gonna fight the food demon as soon as I am done posting today by working out in the gym (since it is quite rainy today in southern New Jersey). Fifty-one days is truly a blessing and one on which I intend to build a foundation of good for my life and those wonderful people in it. I won’t let them down because I won’t let myself down again. Not like that. Not ever.

Time may heal some things but it doesn’t heal others. That’s O.K., because it’s what we do with today that matters. We may not be able to change what happened before but we sure as hell can control what happens today, tomorrow and in all the tomorrows yet to come.And so far I have fifty-one of them. Of all the things I’ve collected in my lifetime, days of sobriety are what I want a treasure trove of in the future.

Day fifty.

Hey there, everybody. I am sitting at the computer this morning humbled and appreciative. Why? Two reasons: One, they were two of the topics in last night’s twelve-step meeting. Two,  that last night’s meeting was probably the most powerful twelve-step meeting I have attended yet, for while I am on a better and healthier path for myself I am concerned for a guy in the group who I will call “Ray.”

Ray and I have spoken just a few times over the last few weeks. We never get into any kind of deeper discussion about anything (it’s always football or stuff like that). But last night Ray shared something very powerful with the group, something that made me have to catch my own breath. Something that made me both humbled and appreciative at the same time. Something that reminded me why I am on my new path and why I need to be on it for the rest of my life.

You see, Ray’s spouse left him because of his addictions (yes, he has more than one, that much I know). They finally took their toll and now Ray feels alone, scared and, most of all, like acting out. Thank God there were 23 other people in the room last night (the biggest crowd I’ve seen since starting to go to these meetings) most of whom Ray knows and who knew Ray. After Ray “shared” with the group I sat there in stunned silence. I hadn’t planned on sharing or saying anything last night. Just thank God, the spirit of my mom and the universe for the blessings of this past week silently and appreciate the chance to rediscover life and being a better human being. But after Ray shared I felt compelled to share. And this is what I basically shared:

That we, in this or any group like it, are damned lucky to be in such a fellowship and community. That no matter what addictions you are going through, and yes, absolutely, this does include any and all food addictions, there are people who understand. There are people who may not know the particular details of a person’s individual story but who, through sharing, can show they understand how another person feels and why they may do certain things because of the similarities in their own lives. Most of all, how lucky and blessed we all are that we can come to that room however many times a week and, for that hour, be in the safest room there is, to let loose, to share, get current, get angry or just be happy, especially in a world that is filled with people and other groups that may or may not understand (or want to understand) what’s going on and how serious and real something is.

When the meeting was over I gave Ray a hug, as did a few other guys in the group, and I left with a renewed sense of life. Ray, in his sharing, admitted he felt like acting out. He has not discussed specifically how he does act out but I am scared he will. He did mention twice before he acts out with food, and that has me worried, too, for I know all too well how comfort food makes false promises of support while leaving you the next day with nothing but disappointment in your soul and extra pounds on your hips and ass.

I said a prayer for Ray last night and sent a gentle wish on the wind that he has the strength to make it to the next meeting despite the temptations in the world to act out. I have felt that way in my life, too, and did and for that I will forever be ashamed. But I have learned where I don’t want to be ever again in life, in part because that unhappiness and need led to me being so heavy in the first place. No matter what I am so very thankful that I did bottom out and realize, in more ways than one, how I never wanted to be the old Bill ever again.

As we start this week take a moment in your day to say a prayer for the “Rays” in your lives, people you know who are struggling with problems that might make them do crazy, whacked out things, and give them a call, drop them a letter or e-mail or just give them a hug. Let them know they are not alone as I let you all know you are not alone on this sometimes treacherous and tricky road we call weight loss. There may be pitfalls, potholes and uneven pavement but we help each other past those things. Our stories may be different but they are the same, and I, for one, am so very grateful to you all that you are out there, too, because it reminds me of the blessings I have in life and that I, too, am not alone.

Day forty-seven.

Here it is, my friends. The end of another week. Boy, this one went fast! Didn’t it? At least it did for me. I have to say though, overall, it was a great week. My weight is down, I am eating better and working out consistently. All very cool things indeed. But I have to be honest. One of the best things about eating less and cooking more is how much freaking money you save.

Just this morning I made scrabled eggs and grits. Yes, grits. I loooove grits. They are awesome and I’ve loved them since I was a kid. I first had them at my mom, JoAnn’s, best friend’s house. When my mom dropped me off during summers so she could go to work, Rosalyn (a wonderful and sweet lady) made all us kids breakfast. She’d make eggs, bacon, maybe a pancake or two and grits. To this day I love grits, especially sticky ones. Hot sticky grits with butter and salt – now that’s good eatin.’ But I digress…Where was I? Oh, saving money and cooking breakfast. Right! Anywho, so I made breakfast this morning and had some diet V-8 Splash and thought about the money I saved eating in versus eating out. Let’s compare. Shall we?

Since this is New Jersey and not many restaurants at all (even in the diner mecca of the nation) even serve grits. So I have to do my comparative using a chain restaurant – Bob Evans. Not only do they have kick-ass breatfast (and awesome sausage) they serve grits. Now, if you were to go to Bob Evans and order what I ate today, which was two scrambled eggs and a bowl of grits, you’d pay in the neighborhood of $6.41. I know this because I called my closest Bob Evans and spoke to an incredibly rude service guy who seemed put out that I just wanted a price. Well, I compared that to spending about $3 per 24 oz. container of my grit-zy goodness and about $3 or $4 for a dozen organic, free range eggs (depending on your store). That means for the cost of about one-and-a-half meals at Bob Evans you could have 6 meals worth of eggs and grits. Not to mention you will have waaaaaay more grits than just six meals worth. I just counted six because a dozen eggs divided by two eggs per meal came out to six. Let me put it another way – to have six meals at Bob Evans, again consisting of only two scrambled eggs and a bowl of grits, you’d pay a whopping $38.46! Do you know how much more food that would buy you? Lots!

I am also starting to do this with my daily coffee and muffin habit from good old Dunkin’ Donuts.  One “Number 2″ at DD, which is a medium coffee and muffin, costs me $3.21. A box of muffin mix, which can make about a dozen or so large, Dunkin’ Donuts-sized muffins, will only run you about $3-ish. Now the muffins I have need only water and come with blueberries and raspberries (yum). A bag of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee from Target will run you only $7 or so bucks. So for about $10 you could have at least a dozen breakfasts from DD. THAT’S TWO WEEKS! Compare that to the $38.52 you’d spend for the exact same thing at DD. Damn. You can see how eating at home is a helluva lot better than eating out.

OK, was today’s blog a bit preachy on cost/benefit. Yep! But I promised I’d help you all out there with tips and this is a pretty good one especially going into the weekend when we ALL shop for groceries for at least part of the week. It may seem like you are spending tons at the store but when you apply that and figure out cost per meal you end up saving sooooo much money in the long run. Not to mention it feels great to have a heavier wallet, especially since I want it to be gaining weight, not me.

Have a great weekend. Talk to you Monday.

Day forty-six.

You ever get a “wild hair?” That urge so strong to do something that it just takes over your actions until it comes to fruition? Well, these past weeks, which have been the most mentally healthy of my life, I have had a few wild hairs come across my mind to do, most notably the wild hairs to clean, to workout and to cook.

Take, for instance, last night. I had a wild hair to cook and cook Italian. I just had to smell garlic, tomatoes and onions saute in a pan with some olive oil. I don’t know why but I did. I wanted to feel like a chef, I guess, filling the house with the aroma of food being prepared. I love standing at the counter chopping vegetables and heating up a pan and throwing them in even though it’s hot as hell in the kitchen. Now, because I didn’t take all day to prepare a true “gravy” I used my saute to doctor some already made sauce (a sin, I know, but I will make a better “gravy” soon). Then I topped it off with a nice slices of Italian sausage. Damn, that was tasty and I ate only one portion. Now it was a slightly bigger portion than I should have had but the important thing is that there are leftovers and I stopped myself from eating more, and that’s a great thing.

I have also been finding I love doing things where I invest a bit of sweat-equity in myself. I love going to the gym and working out like I have these past few days. I love doing a half-hour on my elliptical, shadowboxing, roundhouse kicks, tricep dips (since I am still trying to put ammo in my “guns”), push-ups…the whole lot. I love going to my mixed martial arts class and having the sweat drip onto the mat (that’s an honor, by the way).  Most of all, I love seeing the numbers on my scale sloooooooly decrease (I am at 238.5 today) as I work toward re-reaching my goal of 225. And did I mention I can’t wait to workout again today?

Finally, I have really enjoyed the cleaning wild hair. I am just digging through crap and purging things I truly don’t need and finding out how much, well, crap there really was. This is mainly due to the work I have been doing mentally and emotionally. I purging crap there, too. That is how you know good work is being done – when you can get down to the core of the matter and see what caused X, Y and Z which helps you with A, B and C. And did you guys know hoarding is a way of dealing with abandonment issues? I sure as hell didn’t until my therapist told me. But it makes all the sense in the world.Also, as I get down to things and purge I find it is helping me not binge eat, too. So amazing how that all ties together.

Well, all I can say is that these wild hairs have been most beneficial to me lately. They are part of the stuff helping make me an evolving and better man, one who is changing a little bit every day to be healthier. And it’s certainly working for my weight loss, too. Not only am I cooking more these days but I’m curbing my consumption levels again (which is helping bring that weight down more and more) AND saving a shitload of money in the process. Amazing what NOT eating out all the time can do, eh?

Well, that’s all I got for today. A short and sweet blog to help keep you going. Oh, and if you get one of those wild hairs to take time for yourself, listen to them and do them. You won’t be sorry because nothing feels as good as when you are working on you for a change.

Day forty-five.

My friends,  since I don’t know what time of day you usually catch all the blog that’s fit to type (thank you, New York Times) I will wish you good day. I feel so energized today for two reasons: one, I had a wowzer of a twelve-step meeting last night and I am down in my weight thanks to some mighty powerful positive energy and a kick-ass workout yesterday at the gym.

Let’s start with the gym…

I know I’ve said this before but I am sticking to my guns now – I am making working out my religion again. No, there is nothing that replaces God, but working out makes me feel, well, “high.” It gives me both a physical and mental boost and I got the chance yesterday to work out – both physically and mentally – a lot of the demons that had come to visit these past couple of days.  It felt good to employ much of what my sensei Doug Shaffer is teaching me about mixed martial arts as part of my workout. I did leg work and arm work. Hell, I even did roundhouse kicks and had a great day with my ever-aging hip. I did my tricep dips, push-ups and shadowboxing (which works up a sweat by itself). Also , I am eating better, too. That is the vital co-component to any weight loss, don’t forget. I am working out AND also not eating the comfort foods, and I am drinking more water. Because of that I am enjoying my new downward trend, thank you very much. Even with just a few days of recommitment I saw a 239.2 on my scale today, and I so can’t wait to hit the gym again today. Woohoo!!!!

As for my twelve-step meeting last night I have to say it was a whopper. You’ve heard me talk about my meetings before but last night I attended such a powerful meeting I just have to share. I will never betray the tenets of the meetings (meaning I will never discuss details, names, etc.) but suffice it to say I am a true believer in those meetings. They offer places in which individuals from all walks of life can  let it all out and allows people to  express themselves – whether through anger, sadness, contemplation or happiness – in the safest, most non-judgmental environments. We are all there for various reasons connected through addiction, but I pray for some of those people sometimes. I really do, especially in a world that would shun, ridicule, belittle or make fun of us for even being there. At least for that hour we are safe from all that BS, and our shame, anger, worry, resentment and misery all have company.

When I left that meeting I looked up at the sky and thanked God for the positive things and people in my life, because many people in that room do not have that going for them, and many also have other addictions they are fighting, not the least of which is food – something to which I can totally relate. That’s why I was so jazzed to hit the gym. Working out centers me. It lets me know I am putting sweat-equity into myself and doing work on myself both spiritually and physically. It helps me make “living amends” to myself and others and keeps me on the path to be that better man.

Have a wonderful, positive day, my friends. Go and conquer the world, or at least your parts of it. You are so worthy of success in whatever form, but especially in weight loss. If losing weight is your goal, go for it. I am proud of you and with you 100%. And I know this blog is rambly today and I apologize. I am still in utter appreciation, wonder and, admittedly, shock over some of the things I heard last night. And even when I might not feel O.K.  I will be O.K. We all will be because of one simple thing…we are here now, and present in our own lives and that makes all the difference in the world. And  I am going to do my best to stay here and be here for as long as I am here.

Hear, hear!

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Day forty-four.

As you could tell from my posting yesterday I do my best to make “living amends,” meaning even if the people I have wronged in life don’t know, care, support or accept my attempts to put things right I know I am still walking and living the path to being a better, healthier and stronger man free of who and what I was before.But yesterday was a pretty rough. It’s been forty-four days and in each and every one of those days I have done my best to do at least one thing to reclaim my humanity and be my mother’s son again. Yesterday, though, I just fell apart and questioned everything, especially whether or not I was even worth it all.

No matter what your drug of choice might be, if you’re an addict you hurt people in the most acute of ways and that pain can last a lifetime. In exploring my past and trying to reconnect exactly what made me an addict and turn to my drugs, including food, I realize how ashamed I was of me even way back when I was a child. I was ashamed about how I grew up in a one-room, roach-infested apartment in an old hotel, I was ashamed I never had any money, I was ashamed I couldn’t afford new clothes and had to wear pants and shirts with holes in them and I was ashamed I didn’t have the seemingly normal life my friends seemed to have. I was so ashamed I lied about it all and that was the beginning of two things – my creation of alternate realities to suit a false image to others and my turning to food as comfort to numb and take away the pain.

Like I said last night was a rough one and sitting there thinking about it all I started to cry. I started to cry and really question whether or not I was really worthy of the chances I’ve been given in life. I sat there and wondered out loud whether or not I was doing anybody any good and whether or not the demons, dark forces and black holes that had surrounded me in life were right all along – that I was nothing, a bad person not worthy of redemption.

That’s when the oldest demon of all came for a visit. The demon of food. He came to me and put his arm around me. “There, there,” he said, “it’s going to be alright. Why don’t you just hop in the car and grab some Chinese food and we can talk about it.”

“Fuck,” I thought to myself, “Chinese does sound so good.” I thought about all the other foods that would make me feel better – cheeseburgers, Taco Bell, anything…anything to just numb the pain of what I was feeling. Anything to run away from it.

But I couldn’t run any longer. Forty-four days ago I said I wasn’t going to run and hide anymore from life, the pain or the truth and I wasn’t going to start last night. Forty-four days is how long I’ve been sober, and telling the truth about things and being honest with myself and I’m not going to start breaking that especially with food. Fuck that, and fuck all the bad thoughts I had last night. We do need to face our fears, doubts, anxieties, anger, sadness and pain but we can do that without compounding those feelings with even more shame – the shame of acting out in some way that does take us express to the people we were before.

I did, however, compromise and had some strawberry ice-cream. It was creamy, smooth and delicious. After that I was done. I was done with the cravings. Every day, every single day, I work the twelve steps in my mind and try to be a better person, whether others think it or not. But I am so lucky I am surrounded by people who do think I am worth it even I don’t necessarily believe it myself some days. That includes the spirit of my mom, JoAnn Larson, who was wise in so many wonderful ways that her brilliance astounds me to this day and always will.

I will never go back to being 400 pounds. That man was unhappy, and profoundly so, for so many reasons. However, I do have work to do. I am down a few ounces today and that is a start. Hell, I might have even cried out those ounces but they are gone and I am down slightly. I have always told you out there you are not alone and I meant it. There are times I feel beaten down, unworthy, tired, angry and defeated and I want to eat, too. I do. I sooooo do. I want to run away and drown out the noise and numb the pain with food that tastes so good. That is being human. But there is one thing on our side that keeps us sane – reason. We have the ability to reason and figure out/discover the WHYs and HOWs of things so we don’t keep doing the same shit over and over to detrimental effect to others but, most of all, to ourselves.

That is how we survive. That is how we move forward. That is how we will win.

I woke up today feeling much better. The sun was shining (still is) and the crisp morning air felt good. Most of all, I had reached day forty-four and I am lucky and blessed for that because so many people can’t and don’t even reach day one. Yes, I woke up this morning feeling better and today is dedicated to surviving, to moving forward and most of all, to winning so I can smile and reach day forty-five. Even after such a dark night of the soul I know I am worth it. We are all worth it.

PS: I had a low-fat blueberry muffin and coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts for breakfast. Funny how feeling good keeps you from going to the drive-thru at McDonald’s.