Since I'm a musical guy, I like to start my blogs with a musical reference, like lyrics. When I think of Soda, I think of the song "Dear Lie" by TLC. While the song is about a lie, I kind of apply it to my relationship with Soda. I know it sounds weird, but lyrics like "Get outta my mouth, Get outta my head, Get outta my mind, Stop puttin' words in my head, Get outta my mouth. You're nothing but trouble. Get outta my life. Get out of me." really speak to how I feel.
I don't remember when I had my first soda, but I've been drinking it since I was a kid. That's a lot of soda in my life. I remember times in my life where I'd buy a 2 liter of soda and just drink it out of the bottle. Soda is obviously unhealthy, and it's been a contributing factor to my obesity (Ugh..I fucking hate that word..) since I started to get bigger.
Now..I'm not gonna say that soda is the only thing that made me fat, because it's not, but it definitely helped me get to the weight I am today. I've tried cutting out soda before, but I always go back to it. I try to push it away, but it calls me back. It's an addiction, a wicked addiction. I tried recently to cut it out again, and it lasted a day. Then I stopped again for two days. Then I got to a point where that little voice in my head was telling me to stop trying to quit. I can't do it. Then I thought of the scene from The Nutty Professor when Sherman stood up and finally said "Yes I can!"
I can do this. I just need to believe I can do it. As of right now It's been 5 days. 5 long days. I've been crabby, I've been shaky, I've had withdrawls. One day, this addiction will be gone and stay gone. I hope.
Friday, June 7, 2013
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Here I go Again...
"I don't know where I'm going, but I sure know where I've been. Hanging on the promises in the songs of yesterday, and I've made up my mind. I ain't wastin' no more time. Here I go again."
Pretty fitting song lyrics for me. I'm not going to go into the history of my struggles with my weight. I've done that already in a previous post. I've gotten back on the weight loss horse, and decided I should blog again, I was about to create a blog, until I was reminded that I already have one. So here I am again.
I recently turned 30 years old. It was a real eye opener for me. Here I am 30 years old after years of struggling with my weight, and no matter how hard I fight, I get knocked down and I stay down. I can't do that anymore. I can't keep up steam for a month and let go for another year. I'm running out of time. I've gotten to a point where I get major anxiety that sometimes keeps me up at night. Every time I feel the slightest pain or pressure..I get scared. I get scared that this is it, and I'm going to die of a heart attack at the age of 30. It's been an obsession for months. I can't live in terror anymore. Living in terror of death isn't living. While thinking about my anxiety and why I have it, I think I have put a pin point on what is going on with me.
When I was younger, my maternal grandmother was quite overweight, and had a few heart attacks in her life, and at the age of 50 she died of heart problems. I also remember my mother scolding me about my weight for years after, even into adulthood, threatening that I too would die young of a heart attack. Then a few months ago, the man that owned the local comic book store dropped dead of a heart attack too, he was in his 50's. After John died, everything came back to me. My Grandmother, My mother's threats, and the incident that happened two years ago when I thought I was having a heart attack.
I am at a point where I can't live like this. I can't live in fear. I don't want to. I don't want to die. I want to live. I'm only 30 years old, and I want to enjoy life while I still can. I've been fat as long as I can remember. To those reading, I'm going to let you in on a secret: I'm an actor, and a good one. I get complimented all the time on my confidence..but people don't know that my confidence is fake. I'm not confident at all. I pretend that I'm sexy. I pretend that I'm fat and happy and proud of my body and it's a lie. I'm not. I look in the mirror and I feel like a monster. I feel like I'm disgusting. I have man tits. Men don't have tits! Well...they aren't supposed to at least. I want so badly to actually say that I love myself and actually MEAN it. I want to look in the mirror and be happy with who is looking back at me. I want to be healthy and have kids an a family and I can't do all that looking like this.
Maybe two weeks ago, I was at my friend Angie's house. She too is trying to lose some weight, and we have a friend named Calvin who was doing "Challenges" for his friends trying to lose weight. The challenge of the week that Angie told me about was doing push ups. I hadn't done push ups since middle school. I thought it sounded like a cool idea when Angie told me about it and said I can't do push ups, but I'll start next week.
Angie would have none of it. She told me about "Girl Pushups" which to me sounded like it wasn't a work out, but I was wrong. She commanded me to do them with her, and I did, and my arms killed. If she hadn't pushed me, I probably wouldn't have the courage to get back into this. So now, thanks to Angie, who pushes me the way I need to be pushed, I'm doing Calvin's weekly challenges, and working out at the gym again. I'm feeling good. I need to be pushed. So I'm thankful to have friends that are here to push me and make me do what I need to because they care about my health.
Why am I blogging all this? Does anyone care? Honestly, if people wanna read this, great. I'm mainly doing this for me. I'm an emotional eater. I keep my emotions and feelings (Most of them..and the ones I'm ashamed of) bottled deep inside of me, so I eat. I eat when I'm stressed, angry, sad and bored. I figure, maybe if I learn to let my feelings..all of my feelings..out through writing, I can tackle my eating problem while I work. As I write this, I'm about 375 lbs. I'm down from the last time I blogged..which is good.
Well..that's all for now. I'd like to blog more regularly. I think tomorrow I'll write about my relationship with Soda.
So thanks for reading..if you're reading this. And A special thank you to Angie and Calvin and everyone else who is supportive and pushing me. Thank you.
Pretty fitting song lyrics for me. I'm not going to go into the history of my struggles with my weight. I've done that already in a previous post. I've gotten back on the weight loss horse, and decided I should blog again, I was about to create a blog, until I was reminded that I already have one. So here I am again.
I recently turned 30 years old. It was a real eye opener for me. Here I am 30 years old after years of struggling with my weight, and no matter how hard I fight, I get knocked down and I stay down. I can't do that anymore. I can't keep up steam for a month and let go for another year. I'm running out of time. I've gotten to a point where I get major anxiety that sometimes keeps me up at night. Every time I feel the slightest pain or pressure..I get scared. I get scared that this is it, and I'm going to die of a heart attack at the age of 30. It's been an obsession for months. I can't live in terror anymore. Living in terror of death isn't living. While thinking about my anxiety and why I have it, I think I have put a pin point on what is going on with me.
When I was younger, my maternal grandmother was quite overweight, and had a few heart attacks in her life, and at the age of 50 she died of heart problems. I also remember my mother scolding me about my weight for years after, even into adulthood, threatening that I too would die young of a heart attack. Then a few months ago, the man that owned the local comic book store dropped dead of a heart attack too, he was in his 50's. After John died, everything came back to me. My Grandmother, My mother's threats, and the incident that happened two years ago when I thought I was having a heart attack.
I am at a point where I can't live like this. I can't live in fear. I don't want to. I don't want to die. I want to live. I'm only 30 years old, and I want to enjoy life while I still can. I've been fat as long as I can remember. To those reading, I'm going to let you in on a secret: I'm an actor, and a good one. I get complimented all the time on my confidence..but people don't know that my confidence is fake. I'm not confident at all. I pretend that I'm sexy. I pretend that I'm fat and happy and proud of my body and it's a lie. I'm not. I look in the mirror and I feel like a monster. I feel like I'm disgusting. I have man tits. Men don't have tits! Well...they aren't supposed to at least. I want so badly to actually say that I love myself and actually MEAN it. I want to look in the mirror and be happy with who is looking back at me. I want to be healthy and have kids an a family and I can't do all that looking like this.
Maybe two weeks ago, I was at my friend Angie's house. She too is trying to lose some weight, and we have a friend named Calvin who was doing "Challenges" for his friends trying to lose weight. The challenge of the week that Angie told me about was doing push ups. I hadn't done push ups since middle school. I thought it sounded like a cool idea when Angie told me about it and said I can't do push ups, but I'll start next week.
Angie would have none of it. She told me about "Girl Pushups" which to me sounded like it wasn't a work out, but I was wrong. She commanded me to do them with her, and I did, and my arms killed. If she hadn't pushed me, I probably wouldn't have the courage to get back into this. So now, thanks to Angie, who pushes me the way I need to be pushed, I'm doing Calvin's weekly challenges, and working out at the gym again. I'm feeling good. I need to be pushed. So I'm thankful to have friends that are here to push me and make me do what I need to because they care about my health.
Why am I blogging all this? Does anyone care? Honestly, if people wanna read this, great. I'm mainly doing this for me. I'm an emotional eater. I keep my emotions and feelings (Most of them..and the ones I'm ashamed of) bottled deep inside of me, so I eat. I eat when I'm stressed, angry, sad and bored. I figure, maybe if I learn to let my feelings..all of my feelings..out through writing, I can tackle my eating problem while I work. As I write this, I'm about 375 lbs. I'm down from the last time I blogged..which is good.
Well..that's all for now. I'd like to blog more regularly. I think tomorrow I'll write about my relationship with Soda.
So thanks for reading..if you're reading this. And A special thank you to Angie and Calvin and everyone else who is supportive and pushing me. Thank you.
The Scare..
I must apologize for my lack of blog activity. Life kinda got busy for a while. In the mean time, things did NOT go so well.
I had stopped soda for a while..then I had one once in a blue moon..and then it increased again. Not to the extent it was before, but still bad, that paired with eating fast food again, have made my mission a complete and utter failure.
Last night, I started feeling chest pressure. Danielle, of course was concerned that there could be something wrong with my heart. I went to the hospital, urgent care..and they had me checked out. They took an X-Ray, Did some blood work..and asked me to stay overnight for observasion. At this point I was petrified with fear. After some time passed, I felt better and asked to go home. They advised against it, but I couldn't handle an overnight stay at the hospital..and I really was feeling a little better, so they let me go home. Right after we left I threw up in the parking lot. Since then my stomach has been a little off..but that's normal for me afer vomiing. Presumably I threw up because A. I ate too much earlier, or B. I had a gas station chicken salad sandwich. So we'll see what happens.
They wanted me to do a stress test to do more checking on my heart. My doctor told me that being as big as I am, I am playing a major game with my mortality. He said that being this big can cause heart attack, diabetes, high blood pressure, etc. It was a MAJOR wake up call.
I was afraid of the concequences before..but now, to have a doctor tell me that I'm risking my life and this is serious? I really need to change. Danielle agreed to change with me.
As of today, I did make an apointment to see a doctor tomorrow, and schedule a stress test if they still think I need it. And very early this morning, I was called and told my blood work came back normal and nothing was wrong with my X-Ray. Which is a good sign. But the game isn't over. I HAVE to change. I HAVE to. Apparently the moderation thing doesn't work because I don't have good self control yet, but No more soda, No more fast food, smaller portions.
As of today, I did make an apointment to see a doctor tomorrow, and schedule a stress test if they still think I need it. And very early this morning, I was called and told my blood work came back normal and nothing was wrong with my X-Ray. Which is a good sign. But the game isn't over. I HAVE to change. I HAVE to. Apparently the moderation thing doesn't work because I don't have good self control yet, but No more soda, No more fast food, smaller portions.
This terrifies me guys. I don't want to die. I want to live. I want to be here for Danielle. I NEED to change. This time..it's not an option.
I plan to keep up with this more.
Thank you guys for reading. It means a lot to me.
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