Hi, I just wanted to share a bit of my story. I’m currently in the midst of what I’m calling my weight loss Odyssey. My heaviest was 415.5 lbs in July ‘19 and now I’m down to about 378 or so. I’ve struggled with my size my entire life. After my parents divorced I used food to handle my emotions. Eventually I became “the fat kid” and needless to say, it was a tough time. I’ve been “trying” to lose weight for about as long as I can remember. I remember being in maybe 4th grade and “sweatin’ to the oldies”. In 8th grade, after a move closer to some family, my cousin, who decided she wanted to set me up with her friend, and realized I’m not quite her friends type, encouraged me to spend an hour “working out” and drinking a ton of water so I “peed the weight out”. As I grew into an adulthood, I grew into morbid obesity. I’ve done a lot of different things. I’ve tried hypnosis, I tried a very strict diet that I ended up passing out on from lack of nutrients, I’ve done Atkins, I’ve done the one where they send you meals that taste like cardboard. One time, I emailed Richard Simmons, and come to find out he was on Sirius Radio, and had a show, and invited me to have a conversation with him. So I did. He gave me some great tips and some positivity. No matter what I did, I always gained it back because something happened that I couldn’t handle and turned into a monster, eating everything I could. At one point in my life (about 2016) I discovered the world of fat fetishism. I became enamored by the idea of “attractive” people being driven wild by me, and treating me like some sort of fat god. I made some money and videos. I began to eat for attention and fill my voids with more..carnal activities. Sure, I felt used and dirty, but a guy like ME getting as much..attention as I wanted. I was in a different place mentally and I’m not proud of it. I started to feel objectified. The exciting fun feeling started to slightly go away. Eventually I got into a relationship with a very thin woman who flew to Wisconsin from California to be with me a few times. She was beautiful, a musician, and we could talk for hours. We Inspired each other. She even wrote a song about me, that she performed. Before I got into this lifestyle I was about 380 or so. By the time she came to meet me, I was about 400, which she encouraged. I thought I was in love. But I noticed, though we had a relationship, I was a secret. She still lived with her ex, who was a handsome muscular guy that she assured me was, at this point, just a friend. (Right.) we had many conversations about why I was a secret and was often made to feel bad for not wanting to hide a relationship that I was in. But then, I started getting out of breath a lot easier. Using the toilet was a struggle for me. Going up a flight or two of stairs would have me coughing and once or twice I threw up. I told her that I wanted to start losing weight. My grandmother, who was morbidly obese, died at 49 after her 4th heart attack. I started to worry. That’s when she told me that she’s not sure she’d want to be with me if I lost weight. That was a slap in the face. I started to realize that it was all fun and games now, but when the health issues started because of my size, would she stick with me? Would anyone? I realized no. That was a wake up call. I was destroying my already shitty body and for what? So in March of 2017 I ended things with the fat fan, and decided to put myself first. I began what I call my weight loss odyssey. I’ve tried to lose weight my entire life but now I was 33 and time was running out. So I started with small stuff. Walking every day, avoiding the elevators. eating better. Counting calories. I’m fortunate enough to work for a health care company that provides an enormous amount of free support for weight loss, so I started to see a dietician weekly, started to see a therapist for my inside issues. I was doing very well. In June of 2017 I walked my first 10K. I was so proud of myself. I remember as I was walking it, my dad, who lived about 3 hours away would check in and tell me he’s proud of me. That felt good.
Then I discovered Keto. I kept losing. About this time I met a woman, who loved me for me no matter my size. So things were great. Soon I had gotten down to to 318 lbs. I was so fuckin proud. I was smaller than I’d been my entire adult life. But in February, my dad died suddenly of a heart attack. He wasn’t very fat, but he was not very active and a long time smoker. He was only 56. I went through a dark time then. I started to give in to those nasty carbs. They made me feel less pain if only for a few moments. Then I went entirely off the rails. Between August 2018 and July 2019 I put myself at 415.5 lbs. I started feeling that stuff again. Miraculously I didn’t get diabetes or apnea, but I still struggled. Clothes were tighter, people stopped cheering me on.
In July I looked in the mirror and I hated myself. I wasn’t happy. My now wife loved me, sure, just as I was. But I wasn’t happy with myself. That’s when I started over. I decided to skip keto because for me, it wasn’t maintainable for the rest of my life. I did common sense stuff. Eat less, count calories, move more. I gained an entire support system. My wife was in my corner, I was seeing my dietician, a personal trainer to get me started, and my doctor, after speaking to me about my size and rapid weight re-gain said I don’t just emotionally eat, I am a binge eater. As I thought about it, I was. So she prescribed a medication that not only helped with my depression, but to suppress my binge eating to help me kick start things again. I also started talking to my therapist about my emotional eating. Over the holidays, I pigged out too much and didn’t gain a ton, but a few lbs. that’s when I saw a post on Reddit with a video called Obesity: The Post Mortem. That basically was a wake up call to get back on track and stay on it. Since then I’ve been more physically active than ever, cutting calories in a maintainable way, and really feeling good. As of my last weigh in I was back down to 378 lbs and I’m going to keep going. I don’t have all the time in the world. I don’t want to die in my 50s, so it’s now or never for me. That’s my story. Thanks for reading. I love reading everyone else’s stories and their journeys. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.
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