I'm not very active on The Reddit but I have to share today's success. This is my first post I've created, it's gonna be extremely longwinded but it's a big day for me because it has taken me years to get here. I never thought I'd see the 270's again. 279 is in no way my final goal, it's just an important checkpoint along the way. I promised myself I would tell my story if I made it this far even if nobody reads it or understands why this particular number is meaningful.
Ten years ago I decided to go on a diet. I didn't know how much I weighed, it had been a while since I had been to the doctor. So I got a set of scales that measured up to 440 pounds and thought to myself, "There's no way I'm over 440 pounds, it's not possible!"
It was totally possible. After a dozen error messages and wondering if I had received yet another defective product, I had a friend step on the scales and he weighed in at his normal 180 pounds. Which has been his exact weight since highschool. After a brief moment of contemplating chokeslamming him through my living room window, I ordered a new set of "heavier" scales.
It turns out I weighed 482 pounds. I had put on 180 pounds since highschool.
I got started right away, I was bummed out but surprisingly motivated to lose weight and exercise. I went from being the type of guy that would fake an injury to avoid raking leaves to being the type of guy that did some cardio every day. I got a set of food scales and meticulously (thank you, autocorrect) calculated every single calorie. I was kicking ass, the weight was melting off of me. I had lost 140 pounds in practically no time, despite occasional binge eating.
At this point it's worth mentioning that my weight loss "success" was coming from a calorie defecit that was not sustainable for me. I'm not going to say the number of calories I was eating because I don't want anyone to be influenced by it, but it wasn't healthy. I had amazing weight loss that was coming from a very unhealthy place. I didn't know any of this at the time, I just thought that this was what dieting was supposed to feel like. You eat practically nothing, you fall asleep every time you sit down, you cry for no reason, you suffer. That's just dieting, lil' homie.
I continued onward, like the Titanic towards its iceberg, until I hit 280 pounds. At this point I wasn't feeling well. My mind was messed up and I was exhausted. I needed another totally healthy period of binge eating. And boy oh boy, did I binge. I would anaconda-swallow an entire bag of fastfood and then throw back my head and laugh at the sky. I was more out of control than ever before. I don't know the exact amount of time that passed, but when I weighed in to check the damage I was 310. So, 30 pounds of binging. In retrospect I realize that a decent amount of that was probably fluid buildup, but at the time I had no idea.
It all came crumbling down. I couldn't diet anymore, I swear I tried but I just couldn't. It's like my body and mind rebelled against the idea of dieting. So I binged. I binged for years. I gave up, dieting wasn't possible, I was too weak, I didn't care anymore. I fell apart completely. I even started smoking, because of course I did. You can't fully rebel against your health without cigarettes.
Years passed, I didn't weigh myself again, I knew I had gained the weight back because I was back to my old 480 pound clothes. "Thank god I kept them," I screamed towards the heavens. I hated myself so bad, you have no idea how bad I hated myself. I would look in the mirror and very calmy roast myself. I made my friends uncomfortable with the self-deprecating jokes I'd make. I told myself that I accepted that my weight would kill me, and that it was okay. I still cried myself to sleep sometimes, though. "I gained the weight back," was a broken record in my mind when I was trying to sleep.
Then, 2019 happened. And out of nowhere, my mental health fell off a cliff. I mean, it had already fallen of a cliff, but after the impact its forward momentum carried it off another cliff, a steeper cliff, whatever. The point is that out of nowhere I realized where I was and where I was heading. I said I didn't care if the weight killed me, but I did care. I did care because it still hurt to think about. I was so heartbroken over my mistakes, I had been living in denial for years. But I cared, and I was facing the reality of the work I'd have to do to make it back. It was a dark time, I've kept a lighthearted tone during this post, but it was bad and I really shouldn't joke about that period. I was on the edge in the worst way. I felt lost and hopeless. I wanted to die.
There's a Modest Mouse lyric that goes, "I know that startin' over is not what lifes about, but my thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth." Yeah, I vibe with that. Sometimes all you can do is start over and hope for something better.
This post is already long, so lets cut to a montage:
I got started again at 445 pounds (this was after a month of dieting). I quit smoking and got moving. I dramatically increased my calories from the first diet and I was feeling comfortable. When I felt unnaturally tired I would have a day that was very slightly above my maintenence calories. When I messed up I wrote in a journal to figure out exactly what happened. I broke off contact with a toxic friend who hated any progress I made. I spent time in the woods. I started mindful meditation to help with stress. I replaced videogames as my primary hobby, turning instead to reading. I kept trying, I kept putting one foot in front of the other. I made it back. I have surpassed the stopping point of my first diet, which was 280. All of that pain and disappointment has been replaced by a feeling of redemption and newfound strength.
I can't believe that I made it back. I know that for most people 279 is not impressive, but it is for me. Because I was dead in the water at one point. And I'm not done yet, I don't have a particular weight in mind now, but I'm not done. I am living healthier, and instead of being exhausted at this point, I am energized. I gained the weight back once before, I know how much that hurts, I will not let it happen again. I cannot believe that I made it back.
"A journey will have pain and failure. It is not only the steps forward that we must accept. It is the stumbles. The trials. The knowledge that we will fail. That we will hurt those around us.
But if we stop, if we accept the person we are when we fall, the journey ends. That failure becomes our destination. To love the journey is to accept no such end. I have found, through painful experience, that the most important step a person can take is always the next one." -Brandon Sanderson
Thank you for reading! <3
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