Archive for the ‘regrets’ Category

Selling yourself or sharing yourself

Posted: June 12, 2012 in Cooking, family, friends, regrets, The Management, Weight loss
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I’ve really talked about a lot of things over the 50+ posts I’ve thrown up here. Few tidbits about life, some social commentary, shared some humorous moments… I’m here to tell you that I’ve not been completely honest with you.

It’s not that everything here is a sham… it’s not. I truly am overweight, I like to eat, cook, all that stuff. The places I’ve  been, the stories I’ve shared, all true. However, there’s a huge part of me that I’ve not shared. I want to remedy that. But first, how about a little story.

I’m hopelessly addicted to Next Food Network Star. Have been since Season 2, when Guy Fieri won. I like Food Network (big surprise) and a lot of the personalities. I watch Iron Chef America and want to actually go to Cleveland, just to eat at Michael Symon’s restaurants. I would go to Atlantic City, not to gamble but to eat at Bobby Flay Steak. I’ve been to Emeril’s Orlando. One of my favorite Food Network personalities, though, has always been Alton Brown.

Alton Brown and fishy friend

Alton is a food geek, and that appeals to me. I was intrigued by the new season of Food Network Star, where Alton, Bobby, and Italian diva Giada DeLaurentiis would each be mentoring a team of hopefuls. I started rooting for Team Alton, just because, well, they seemed quirky. Like him. At any rate, during Sunday’s episode, the remaining members of his team were all up for elimination. One of the team members, Judson Allen, finally homed in on a culinary point of view based on his astounding weight loss. However, the network was not convinced of his sincerity. Alton interjected with the following:

Being heavy… I was heavy most of my life… is painful. You learn to create a different version of yourself to project to people. You have to sell yourself because you’re not attractive and you’re heavy and you’re clumsy and all of those things.”

That just really hit me. It dawns on me that I’ve been using my alter ego so much that it’s become very difficult to know what is the real me and what is the me I’ve created. The line between the two has ceased to be clear. That’s not a good thing. So when I said earlier that I’ve not been completely honest with you, well, I haven’t exactly been honest with myself, either. I’ve actually gotten to the point where I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve molded my exterior persona to be so middle of the road in an effort to be liked that it comes across as complete bullshit (“bovine scatology”). Nobody likes a bullshitter (or perhaps I should say “bovine scatologist”). I always say that I don’t like phony people, and yet, I’m actually a phony. I’m not the jolly fat guy. I HATE BEING FAT. I am so envious of the normal sized people sometimes that it just hurts. Really, really hurts. And the only way I’ve been able to quell that inner pain is by eating. A lot. I believe that SPW (aka The Management) knows how much I hurt because she sees me in my unguarded moments, when I don’t put on my fat armor and mask. Not many other people do. It’s not something that I’ve ever really talked with her about, so consider this my coming out party, dear wife. However, the aforementioned  conflict between my two personas tends to make me, well, cranky. Or perhaps bitterly sarcastic. Or both. Mostly both, methinks. Either way, that conflict manifests itself in my hardly being able to really experience and appreciate the goodness and joyousness that I want to believe is still in the world.

I really started fearing that this was happening when we made our annual December trek to Disney to see all of our friends for Reunion. It was like I was going through the motions rather than enjoying the company of like-minded people. I wasn’t having fun. I hurt, mainly from carrying the weight around, literally and figuratively. I kept thinking to myself, “How the hell can I be in the Happiest Place on Earth, surrounded by some of my favorite people, and be as miserable as I am?” I did what I normally do… I sucked it up and did the best I could, but I wanted nothing more than to be elsewhere. I usually feel that way anymore… just want to be elsewhere, to find a place where I don’t have to wear the fat armor, because that’s heavy weight to lugging around all the time. You know what, there is no such place. It’s still accepted to discriminate against fat… just look around at all the popular culture. The fat guy is usually portrayed as dimwitted and slow while the this handsome guy is always the hero.

I’m done playing the role. I’m fat, but I’m not always going to be. Maybe I didn’t get the winning ticket in the good looks department, but I’m not going to let being fat steal anymore of my life. It’s taken enough for two lifetimes. Bear with me… some of the bovine scatologist will linger. One does not exorcise the demons immediately. After all, I have to relearn how to be me and to love being who I am. That’s not a task I’m relishing, although I think the reward will be worth all the pain. To look in a mirror and see me, not what I think I should be, but who I am, well, that will be one of the best days of my life.

I’ll keep you posted. And thanks for reading.

Doctor’s office music…

Posted: June 7, 2012 in Bariatric surgery, music, regrets
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As I sat in the doctor’s office this afternoon, the dulcet tones of Bryan Adams crooned out through hidden speakers. As Mr. Adams (who has been apologized for on multiple occasions by the Canadian government) was telling everyone in the waiting room that everything he did, he did for us, it dawned on me that this is what I really want to avoid. Spending a goodly chunk of my life waiting in doctors offices, waiting to die. (As an aside, it’s not a good thing if you’re the mayor of a doctor’s office on foursquare and you don’t work there.)

This was a simple podiatrist appointment, or as I call it, my pedicure. Not too bad in the realm of doctor visits… he normally trims up the toenails, gives the feet a once over and that’s about it. Not really traumatic. But on the road of life, it’s a pothole. This is the main reason why I’m leaning toward an operation. Am I excited about going under general anesthesia? Hell no. (Granted, Versed is some good stuff… ask The Management. She witnessed me go from a ball of quivering nerves to singing a medley of 70’s hits in a few minutes)

I’m already getting a pet peeve about the bariatric surgery world. The peeve is people who think it’s the easy way out. There’s nothing easy about this process. It’s six months of work, basically relearning how to eat, relearning how to live, actually, and there’s a helluva lot of sacrifices to be made. The surgery is simply a means to an end. It’s not the end itself. The only way this operation will work is if I’m all in. I can’t do this half-assed, otherwise I’m right back asking for a seatbelt extender on the plane and being forced to buy a second seat on Southwest Airlines. No thanks.

I don’t want to be the fat guy just bouncing from doctor to doctor waiting to die. That’s not living. That’s an existence, and not a particularly good one. I can do better.

Stress…

Posted: May 25, 2012 in regrets, Stress, Weight loss
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Today’s post is about stress. Pretty straightforward thing, stress. Apply too much to anything and it will break. Stress affects different people differently. Some people thrive on it. Some grit their teeth and handle it. Some have a breakdown. Others cope in different ways. For me, I stress eat.

See, I’ve never been really good at letting go of things. Just ask The Management. She notices how little things can just linger. Take for example, Volleyball Corner. Volleyball Corner is a small store on Lincoln Highway. It’s located near Lancaster Mennonite School, and well, it drives me nuts because IT’S NOT ON A FREAKIN’ CORNER!!!!! It’s in the middle of a *^#%&^ building!!! The only corner would be the actual corners inside the store itself. Compare this to Angelo’s Soccer Corner, which is located on the corner of the building. Is there any real reason this should bother me? No. It’s stupid to let this get under my skin, but for some reason I can’t seem to let it go.

That which does not kill us makes us stronger.
We’ve all heard that famous Friedrich Nietzsche quote. I disagree. Stress is cumulative. Take a piece of thin metal. Keep bending it back and forth. It won’t break the first or second time you bend it, but continued bending will break the metal, sure as shooting. You can argue that people aren’t metal, but I’m willing to bet that continued stress puts wear and tear on your body that it’s not always equipped to handle.
 
This is one reason I’m really looking forward to my appointment with the psychologist on the bariatric team. I’m hoping to get some insight on what I can do about my little stressors. Maybe I’ll eventually learn to deal with my irrational fear of clowns.
 
At the very least, I hope to learn some ways to avoid keeping it all bottled up. It’s not healthy and I know it’s a big contributor to being obese and diabetic.
 
Have a great holiday weekend… The Management and I will be joining some of the Disney peeps tomorrow for a picnic. Will be nice to see everyone.

Friday, I’m in Love…

Posted: July 2, 2010 in home improvement, regrets, Weight loss
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Today’s title comes from The Cure. So, thanks, Robert Smith & company. It really is a good song, one that was a staple during my college radio days.

So, allow me to start today’s entry by saying that an important milestone was reached. I am pleased to announce that major construction is done on the bar. I fully expect to be moving the base to the rec room today and marrying it to the bar top, which has been languishing in the basement for a couple of weeks. Keep tuned to my Facebook page for picture updates.

When I say major construction is done, that doesn’t mean there aren’t a ton of little things to be done. For example, I still need to attach the trim and mount the shelves, not to mention all the other little finishing items. It’s true what they say about home ownership. Your work is never really done.

Moving right along, we will move into today’s topic.

Guilt.

Guilt is everywhere you look, my friends. Whether you feel guilty because you stole a candy bar from the mini mart when you were eight or you feel guilty because you gorged on cake rather than something a little healthier. It’s pretty natural to feel guilt or regret over your actions. If you beat yourself up incessantly for every little mistake that you make, well, you’re going to spend an awful lot of time beating yourself up because we all make a lot of mistakes.

Football coaches will say that “a good quarterback has a short memory.” This is pretty true… if the QB kept dredging up every interception he threw, we wouldn’t see much scoring. We all need to have short memories when it comes to our mistakes, at least in the food intake area. If you eat a piece of cake, you ate a piece of cake. It’s not the end of the world. It’s a piece of cake. The key is not to make mistakes all of the time.

One other consequence of guilt is the associated feelings of helplessness and depression, which often lead people to overeat. For many of us, we find solace in food. I know I do. Problems with your boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other? Let’s send out for a pizza! In my case, it usually was a pizza. A whole, large pizza. With extra cheese. Consumed while I was sitting in front of the tube feeling sorry for myself. It tasted damn good. But then the guilt creeps in and you feel even worse and order another pizza and eat it and then another pizza and this time let’s get some chicken wings and a whole package of Keebler Fudge Stripe cookies and I’ll also drink real Coke not that diet crap because it’s all messed up and my life is messed up and then I’ll just stay inside because I’m fat and I don’t want anyone to see that I’ve gotten even fatter and maybe I’ll just start trying again next week but in the meantime pizza!

I’ve been there, friends, looked over the precipice and I’m coming back. Who’s with me?

Today’s weight: 302.8

Back in time…

Posted: June 30, 2010 in regrets
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Howdy, pardners!

I’m no longer a big fan of living in the past. Let’s get that out of the way up front. I think that our pasts shape us, make us who we are today, and filter our perceptions of the world around us. Take snow for example (No, not the really terrible wannabe rapper Snow who had that really, really stupid “Informer” song), but the flakes of frozen precipitation that tend to accumulate during the winters here in the Amish paradise.

To someone like me, who grew up in Pennsylvania, snow is no fun. It’s pretty when it’s falling, but since I invariably have to shovel it, and have had to shovel it for many years, I despise it. To someone who is a skier, fresh snow means fresh opportunities to hit the slopes and not have to deal with artificial snow. To someone raised in the tropics as a child, snow can fill you with a sense of wonder. Three people, three takes on the same thing, all due to their pasts.

I don’t believe that living in the past is the answer. I did my share of it for a long time. That does not mean I don’t cherish many of my memories, like when I had hair. You see, all the wishing in the world is not going to grow that hair back, just the same as all the wishing in the world won’t make you prom queen or football hero again. Remember the feelings that went along with your status, but accept that fact that those days are gone.

When I look back, I often talk about being that much thinner (but not as much as I talk about my hair). Since I never had one of those lean builds, I got teased a lot for being a fat kid. I was kind of pudgy, but not really fat. Kids can be cruel. The little voice inside your head says, “Well, maybe you are fat.” If you hear that voice enough, you start to believe it. It becomes that much easier to let yourself go. It also winds up in denial. “I’m not fat! I have big bones!” “Well, I may be fat, but I have a glandular condition. I can’t do anything about it.” I didn’t really have either when I started, but it would get people off my back, so I would spout off the denials.

When you go to many of the addiction programs, they always tell you that the first step is admitting you have a problem, that you are powerless over drugs, alcohol, cheeseburgers, etc. That was the hardest part for me. Admitting that yes, I wear shirts large enough to hide a band of desert nomads, and homeless nomads or not, something needs to be done about this. I would read articles about Southwest Airlines making heavier people pay for two seats, or the entire debacle with Kevin Smith being “too fat to fly” and instead of saying, “What do I do if I ever want to fly Southwest?” I would rail against the airline, claiming that I refuse to fly them because they are being discriminatory toward fat people. What a bunch of crap I was spouting. I know that now and the crap won’t be surfacing again.

Enough pontificating for one morning. Had a good day all around yesterday. Managed to clean the first floor of the house and keep the food in check. Since the temperature was so nice, I got a great walk in, 2.02 miles, according to iPedometer. Had some chicken, rice and peas with the obligatory Tabasco, snacked on half a cup of pistachios, some carrots and celery and some sugar-free Jello. The sugar-free Jello is great, especially if you mix your own. You can make 8 servings out of a big box and it will cost you about a buck. We have some small 1/2 cup plastic containers that we use for Jello, they’re great for portion control and everything is pre-measured. The serving of Jello is 10 calories and makes for a nice, refreshing snack.

I did go out after work for drinks with The Management and a friend. Sitting on the deck at the Villa Nova West sipping a couple pints of Yuengling Lager was just what the doctor ordered. Maybe not the best choice for the diet, but it was great for the mind. The karaoke, however, was not so great on the ears. As we were on the deck, we weren’t subjected to as much as we might have been, but listening to some overaged pro-am barfly caterwaul her way through an off-key rendition of Stevie Nicks’ “Edge of Seventeen” was kind of painful. There was nowhere near enough beer being consumed to get me to break out the Frank Sinatra, though, so Lancaster County was safe for another night. Even though it was our first time there,  can I just say that the Tuesday night bartender is awesome? I didn’t catch his name, but he came outside to make sure some people left and we chatted a bit.

So, today should bring a trip to Mechanicsburg and Wegman’s. It sucks that the greatest grocery store ON THE PLANET is about 40 minutes away, but we still go periodically. Great prices on meats and produce. I’m going to work on the bar a bit before we go.

This is my last week of work before four weeks off. I’m worried as to what will happen when I’m off and The Management is at work. Can I continue to work hard and avoid the temptation to eat the lining off the fridge due to sheer boredom?

I’d like to think I’m strong enough to do so. With your support, I know I can be.

Thanks for reading.

Today’s weight: 306.0 (down 14.0 from last Thursday)

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