Determined To Succeed

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.

Day Twenty-nine.

Good morning and happy Labor Day, my friends. It sounds weird to wish you a “happy” Labor Day but I guess I can, right?” I mean what started out as a way for President Grover Cleveland to help reconcile with the labor movement in 1894 has become for all of us a way to grab the breath of fresh air we need and re-inflate the sails of our lives. And much like the rest of America I was just about done when the weekend hit. My brain was trashed. I didn’t even know what to write about. I, too, needed a break. So that’s exactly what I did. I disconnected from this land of the virtual and reconnected with the actual and it felt good. Damn good, especially as I reclaim my soul and become a whole human being again.

There are two parts to re-inflation. First you have to plug the hole that’s letting out air then you set about taking big, deep breaths to help put wind back in your sails. It’s a two-part process and you can’t do one without the other and, for me, part of plugging that hole was to attend my twelve-step meeting on Saturday night. It was a particularly deep meeting, with the six of us (the number varies from week to week) discussing select steps of the twelve-step program in our fellowship. And I have to say, after hearing what’s going on in the lives of others, I know I truly am a lucky man.

One person in particular, I will call her Jane, spoke to the group about losing faith. She still believed in God but she had almost completely lost faith in both herself and in recovery. She laid out what she had done over the past week and described how, time after time, she gave in to her demons and questioned whether or not she could even stop taking her drugs or choice. She told the fellowship how she sat and cried not knowing how to break the cycle of her addictions (and she has multiple) and become a healthy human being again. She sat lost, truly lost, and you could see it in her face. We all could.

I know exactly how Jane feels. Everyone in that meeting knows how Jane feels, when your sails are so completely deflated and you are adrift in the open sea with no course set and no land in sight. You are scared of losing both your mind and soul to something (or somethings) that take you, piece by piece until all you have left is the shell of your body which you, yourself, can’t control. It’s a horrible feeling.

As I sat there listening and nodding my head in agreement to some of the things she was saying (hell, we all nodded) I felt damned lucky. Even with everything that’s happened in my life and even with everything I have done I feel lucky. I feel lucky that I have been given the chance to reclaim my soul. I feel lucky that I am here, present and accounted-for, again. I feel lucky that, unlike several others in the group, I am not currently fighting multiple addictions at the same time. I feel lucky that I am alive and can have the opportunity to be the good-for-something human being I always wanted to be.

There comes a moment that for me sums up why twelve-step meetings enlist faith. You must enlist faith because when the meetings are over you say good-bye to the others and walk out that door simultaneously hoping both they and you make it to the next meeting. Now only you can know what’s in your heart and mind which for me that means NEVER being the old me again and always striving to be healthy, but you wonder about the others, particularly those in deep, deep crisis. You want them to make it, or at least make it to the next meeting. You hope something plugs the holes in their lives so they can at least have the chance to gain back some wind and some momentum. But you don’t know. You never know, so you pray for them and pray they will be OK.

Those meetings are what I need so much to keep the holes in my life, mind, body and soul plugged so I can continue to have the wind at my back. Reconnecting with and enjoying life is what we all need, especially when facing and trying to climb what seems like a mountain our our own baggage. But it can be done. It will be done, at least it will by me.

Did I have way too much to eat this weekend, particularly yesterday at a BBQ? Yes (and yes, my weight went back up as a result), but it felt wonderful. Food has ten-times more taste, and I enjoyed it. And how did I enjoy it? Because I wasn’t being bandied about by the rocky waters of doubt and shame anymore. I was being carried toward a destination by the winds put back in my sails, winds that will carry me throughout the rest of my life.

You and I may have our weight loss issues in common, but always remember that you (and I) have more in common with others than you think. And you should thank your lucky stars if, on most days, you have wind in your sails to guide you through situations in your life. Food, weight loss, work, friends, relationships, etc., because someone somewhere might not. So treat that precious wind, that amazing breath of fresh air, as the gift that it is. For it is the gift of healing, of strength and, most of all, life.

Day twenty-four.

Happy September, everyone. Man, yesterday I was both a mess and euphoric. I admit, when I’m sick, I’m a bit of a baby especially since I don’t get sick very often. And while it wasn’t the full-bore cold it could have been it was enough to sap my strength, make my head all poofy and have my throat all scratchy and in pain the whole day. On the other hand, I took care of myself, something I haven’t done really for a long, long time and part of that care involved two things: taking myself for a nice walk in the clean, hot air and going to a twelve-step meeting last night.

I was very torn about the walk. I had zero energy and motivation to get up from the couch and I sure as hell didn’t want to get ready and dressed to walk outside for an hour. But I had to clear my head. Not just physically because of the cold or because I felt like acting out or anything, but because I was mulling something over in my brain. I was thinking about everything and needed some time to commune with nature and my mom, JoAnn’s, spirit to help me be calm and relax. Later, I attended my twelve-step meeting which, I have to say is a wonderful way to re-juice the soul because it’s great knowing you have the fellowship and support of the people around you on any given night.

Whenever I sit in that room and listen to others I gain new perspectives on things. They help me turn things over in my brain and center me and last night’s meeting gave me a good idea of what pain is like from the perspective of someone experiencing it. I have to tell you how powerful that is, and how humbling. It strips away every piece of bullshit inside you and makes you feel something which, for many of us, is for the first time in years. Feeling the pain of others makes me realize and understand the pain I have put people through in my life. I may not be able to fully make amends to those people but I sure am trying the best way I know how – going to these meetings and getting the help I need.

I can only imagine that other addictions are the same at their core. You crave X and will do anything – lie, cheat, hurt people, shut yourself off – just to have X. That also goes for food. But with addiction, the more you spiral down into it the more shame you feel, therefore you withdraw more and more into your world, alone and broken not knowing how to get out.

After feeling the sun on my face yesterday and after going to my meeting I felt present. Yes, it does hurt to hear these things and yes, it does hurt facing them but any addict needs to if they are to get out of their own personal abyss. It needs to be felt because our emotions have been out of it for so long and it does cause others great pain. That goes for food, drugs, alcohol, whatever. If recovery were easy it wouldn’t work, plain and simple. Put another way, we addicts need to feel to know what it’s like to be a human being again, one that’s not driven by a drug but one that is driven by being a feeling being.

That is why I was euphoric. I felt that pain yesterday. I felt it. I wasn’t distracting myself and it felt good. That’s why I didn’t give in to the temptation to just be a slug on my couch. I got up and walked. I did that to take care of me in my recovery from being under the weather. And I went to my twelve-step meeting to take care of me in my recovery to heal as a human being to try to be a good and decent man.

I am starting to come back down in my weight, too. I am at 235 even today and that feels amazing. I can feel that excitement again. I have a measly ten pounds to go to re-achieving my goal weight and I will one day. I will because I recognize what it’s like to turn off and medicate and numb yourself to reality. However, now I am facing reality for the first time and it strengthens me, thank God. That goes for my weight loss journey, too. I was so worried about handling one addiction I was turning back to food as comfort. I just realized it and got a handle on both, that’s all. And I was able to do that because the pieces of my soul that had been gone for so long are now coming back and making me here and present and alive.

It’s amazing what a person can do when they have their soul back. It is. That will give me the strength to kick that bag today and that will give me the strength to carry on in weight loss and in recovery. And in the end, I won’t be a mess anymore. I will be healed in body, mind and, most of all, spirit so I never again fall into the dark abyss I was in for so long.

It’s Thursday. Just three days to go until Mother’s Day and I am finding myself fighting food urges more and more. The only thing that seems to make me feel better is that I know I am fighting food urges and know why they are there in the first place. My name is Bill and I’m an emotional (and sometimes situational) eater.

Sometimes, food urges are situational. Like when you go to an event, like I did last week, and have tater tots for no better reason other than you have one glass of wine, someone else orders them and they smell really freaking good. Seemed like a good idea at the time, and it didn’t have tooooooo much effect on the bottom waistline (thank God). Or when I went to a meeting the other day where they were serving sandwiches, chips, brownies and my Kryptonite – Coca-Cola. I walked away but not before having just one small piece of sandwich. Just one small one, thank goodness.

But most times for me food urges are emotional. When I’m happy and I know it I clap my hands (and reach for snacks). When I’m nervous about something that’s a double whammy – not only do I binge but I mindlessly do it because whatever I’m nervous about occupies my mind and I don’t think of what, or how much, I’m eating. And recently, I’ve been wanting snacks because I am sad and missing my mama, JoAnn. So I reach for the things I used to have with her as a kid – Hostess Cupcakes and the sweet taste of a plain Hershey chocolate bar. I’ve even had an ice-cold Pepsi from time to time, too, in memory of her.

I know this food won’t bring my mom back, or do me any damn good when I’m trying (almost desperately) to bring my weight down. What I have to fight is that short-term high I get when I have these things. It’s like taking drugs, I guess. Score a “hit,” feel great, come down and want very much to have that again.

I know these feelings of sadness and emptiness will get a bit stronger as we approach Mother’s Day this Sunday, but knowing that does help. It may not help me curb ALL the urges I have and I know I will give into a few here and there. Just know it will be just here and there, not all the time and won’t be every day.

I will also take comfort knowing that the people in my life who still have their moms, or are moms themselves, will be with their loved ones this weekend. Whether it is by voice or in person, or even with just a card received in the mail. And  while some of these moms are healthy, some are not. Some moms may be beginning a fight with arthritis, memory or worst of all, cancer. To those moms and their children you have my heart, know that I am with you in spirit and I sincerely wish that all is made well soon.

And for those special people in my life who no longer have their moms I am with you in spirit, too. I have heard so many times since last June 9 how that void never goes away. The pain just dulls a bit. And I know in my mind and in my heart that there isn’t comfort food enough on this planet to feed that kind of longing or squelch that kind of dull pain. So we will be there for each other, too, toasting them in their ultimate healing away from this earth.

Damn, it really helps to talk about all of these feelings with you guys. Thank you. That, not cupcakes, Chinese food, Cokes, cheesesteaks, hot dogs or ribs, makes me feel better. Very much so.