Determined To Succeed

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.

Last night was an OK night but I have to admit I gave in to two of my kryptonite foods – beef fried rice and Coca-Cola. But I didn’t do it because I was weak (well, not totally). Actually I did it to celebrate. You see yesterday a photographer from the Philadelphia Inquirer came by to take a shot or two for an article that is going to run on the website in Monday’s paper (I will get you guys a link as soon as it does). That was pretty cool. Hopefully people will see my story and know they are not alone in this weight loss journey we are all doing.

This morning, after consuming said Chinese food and Coke (which I did watching the always awesome film “Purple Rain”), I am just up a half-pound. Not too bad actually. And I am going to be super good this weekend. Especially when I think about that photographer’s friend about whom I learned during the shoot.

I can’t tell you the friend’s name because she never said the name but she did share with me that the friend was struggling so hard with weight. She was having some severe joint pain. She has just been diagnosed with high blood pressure.  She was working out and lost weight but gained it back. Lots of emotional stress going on in her life.

Wow. Sound familiar? It sure as hell did to me. So I spent some time talking to my new photographer friend about my story and what I do to keep the weight off including the healthier fruit snacks I bought whenever I get an attack of the munchies (Clementines are the best). I told her how much I exercise and try to be good about eating. But that once in a while, as a treat, I do indulge (as I did last night) in Chinese food and Coca-Cola.

I also told the photographer I felt a kinship to this person and that I understand the emotional side of it all. Things like frustration, anger, shame and food addiction. I really do. Like a vicious circle it is, craving and eating food but being ashamed of actually eating it and how many pounds it can put on. How you hide in comfort zones. Man. So many similar feelings came up. Like wanting to scream because everyone thinks fat people are supposed to be jolly and happy which is a silly stereotype since everyone has real emotions and there were times that, while fat, I sure as hell wasn’t jolly. Not when you have to ask for seatbelt extenders on planes and feel like you have to apologize for being larger than the average bear.

But then things got lighter. I told the photographer about donating all my fat clothes so I had no way to go back. I told her about my new-found energy. I told her that I simply feel better. And when I was asked if people treat me differently I say yes, especially since I feel I am the same person I was when I was larger. I know my body has changed but my spirit, the thing that drives me, is still the same (kind of like the tagline for last year’s Vin Diesel movie “Fast & Furious” – New Model. Original Parts).

When we concluded the shoot I told the photographer friend to recommend my website to her. I just wanted her friend to know through my stories and this site she wasn’t alone in this. To love herself enough to put herself first and, through that, her weight loss goal would be achieved. I hope she takes me up on that.

To everyone out there you are doing a great job. Even if you are doing just a few sit-ups every day. That is more than what you were doing and that is great. If you are cutting back on soda and chips and walking, that is awesome. Keep it up. As for me I am getting my butt to the gym so I can work off that half-pound.

Not so that I can eat more beef fried rice and drink more Coke. But so that the feeling of celebration can continue throughout the coming weekend.