Cauldrons of Fire – Part One
Today is July 4th, a big time for everyone to get together and eat and drink in america. I was invited to a noon get together, and like most americans, I was the first to arrive at 1:00 pm. I am not very patriotic, and neither are my friends, so I was looking forward to the ordeal. I came with nothing, but did do a beer run, since I was the only sober one of the bunch, figured it helped pay for the meat. I met some great new folks, but one in particular was personal trainer, and all muscles and shape, and no jack-assery either. George was very interested in my turn from killing myself by eating and drinking to becoming a healthy person, and we had a very nice discussion about it. He offered to help me out when I went to the gym, and teach me things I could do to help my path to a better body a real idea. I was asked also, to make a journal of my journey, and I instead, offered to make it part of my blog. I am not against showing things about myself on the internet, haters hah, whatever, most are just vicious cowards, and the rest are even bigger cowards, and to be honest, I mostly get inspiration and well done’s from people, especially here on the WordPress. So today’s blog will be about my past, and tomorrows blog will be about my current situation.
I will be honest, these two pictures I put on here today are extremely hard for me to look at. I think I got a little bigger than it shows, but maybe only a little, it’s hard for me to remember because basically I was only sober at work.
These were taken at a crawfish boil a friend had at his house three summers ago. I was drinking about a fifth of whiskey every other day and a 12 pack of beer almost every night. I was smoking prodigious amounts of marijuana, and in Denver, it was usually medical grade, so my memory of everything is pretty blurry. I would get cramps in my legs and arms every night, and I could feel very unhealthy vibrations in my pulse. I had chronic pain, all the time, there was never any relief for me. I could walk, oh, about one half block, and I would have to rest, to ease the pain in my feet. I was losing circulation in my legs, they became discolored and swollen at the feet and ugly with dry skin. I could barely keep my balance, my weight was so extreme, that walking down stairs was terrible and scary. I felt like I could topple any second, like carrying a sand bag on your head. That shirt is a 6x, and barely buttons at the waist. 6x is the largest any company can buy, and my employer chose these shirts in order to be able to get my size. I would wear a pair of shoes out every four months or so, and they would basically explode, no longer able to contain my swelling feet. I got gout, and the beginnings of type II diabetes. Gout could knock me off my feet for a whole week, and keeping my job became problematic. I was in constant pain, rarely smiled, and was on the verge of shutting myself in.
I figured with my gigantic weight problem, I would be able to qualify for social security, and die alone. Those are the thoughts I had, and they haunt me to this day. I was washed up, washed out, in continuous pain, and ready to give up. I would like to explain, the pain was monotonous. It was the only beat I heard, and I was swallowing 800 mg of ibuprofen 2-3 times a day, everyday, just to get an hour of relief. I would spend all my money on junk food, constantly eating double bacon cheese burgers everyday, ordering two pizzas from delivery, even though the pizza place was literally 3/4 of a block from my door. I smelled bad, I looked like death, and the pain kept me angry for days on end. I was losing my friends at a fairly consistent rate, and I was at a loss for what to do about myself, and could feel the wood from the bottom of the barrel around my neck. I could barely clean myself, I was embarrassed and distraught.
In the first picture, you can see me in concentration, but that is not what it was. I was in pain, and my furrowed brow reflects the tension I dealt with all the time. I barely fit in that chair, and next to me was a couple who were both sitting in the same kind of chair, and I barely fit, she was in his lap kicking her legs around. My neck had disappeared, there is no obvious joint from my body to my chin. In the second picture, you can see how far my belly had extended. I wore stretchy 4x gym pants, and could not tie the rope built-in, I would take the rope out and let the material hold itself up on top of the curve of my belly. The shirt is just barely large enough to cover me, and remember, that is a 6x, made to be so large that anyone can fit in it.
I can not tell you how tough this blog has been. I do not weigh myself, I do not take pictures ever, and to sit here and remember all of this past, it is a tough thing. I am doing it for a couple of reasons. One, not many people put this out, so I am doing it for anyone who can use the relation. I have been there, you can change, it is hard, but it must be done or you will die. Two, I want to be proud of who I am, and who I am becoming, so I want to document it for myself, to be motivated when times are hard, when the apple looks like a stone, when the water tastes like piss. I can go much farther faster now, after three years I am ready to take the next big steps. Tomorrow I will post new pictures from the day, I am going to get a friend to help me and take some pics. I will also talk about what I did to change, and what I am doing now, and what my plans are over the next year.
Take heart and laugh, this is a necessary step for me, and I hope that in the future, it will help those who feel alone and overcome by their own personal trials.