Doing… good… weirdly enough.

So I had to stop taking the Procardia. I went in for a blood pressure check, and while it was down, it wasn’t down enough, so the doctor doubled my dose. I thought I was gonna die. My body aches and joint pain got SOOO bad. It was crazy. I knocked it down to the previous dose and she added a diuretic, but the body aches and joint pain, while less, were still constant. It was so bad one night that I had to take a Tylenol 3 just to get some sleep.

So, now I’m on Normodyne twice a day. Just started it, but this morning I feel legit better. Like, my body doesn’t hurt. I never thought that would be such a great feeling, but it really is. Just discovered a fun side effect: my scalp is tingly! It’s not an unpleasant feeling either. Lol. I could deal with this.

With the blood pressure medication, I’m also supposed to be cutting back salt. That’s hard, cuz I’m really into salt. I don’t have a sweet tooth; I have a salt tooth. If you offer cake or pasta, I’m going with the pasta… So, I’ve been trying not to ingest too much salt. I made a low sodium pork tenderloin this weekend with wild rice and squash. It was actually pretty good. I’m craving pepperoni at all times, though. Lol. Which is weird, because I don’t usually eat much pepperoni. Still, I’m making the effort. I even cut back on soda, since it has sodium.

It’s helped that we don’t eat a lot of Chipotle anymore. We’re making the attempt at cooking at home. Lol. I usually end up eating a quesadilla and calling it good. Easy peasy.

In other news, I’ve been… good, emotionally. The procardia caused a little depression, because constant pain and not being able to do what you want to do will do that to you, but in general, I’ve been good. Like really good.

The shrink ha me on 75 mg of Effexor, 200 mg of Gabapentin and… whatever half a pill of Wellbutrin is… and I haven’t had a depressive episode: no irrational crying, no trying to sleep for 20 hours, no binge eating, and I haven’t been hating myself as much. It’s been–so nice. I haven’t been manic, although I did drop $50 at 2nd & Charles on books on Saturday, but it was the only impulsive thing I’ve done since the Wellbutrin became a thing. I haven’t been HAPPY, especially on the Procardia, but it’s really interesting to consciously know that I would usually be bawling and hysterical over something as mundane as dropping my lunch bag yesterday morning, and instead I just picked it up and finished getting ready for work.

Short of this terrible incident where a rabbit ran in front of my car and I couldn’t stop, I’ve been outburst free. That was a really awful day, though. I didn’t know that wehn you run over something as small as a rabbit it still feels like a speed bump. Mom told me to keep driving, and then as soon as we got close to a neighborhood the next street over she told me to pull over. I cried a lot. I don’t like the idea of killing things, and I tried so hard to stop, and I know it’s just a rabbit, but to me it’s a little fluffy life that I took, and it just killed me. I cried for like 20 minutes and she reassured me it wasn’t my fault, and that I obviously tried to stop, and that this just happens. And I know that… but I still feel bad. I fed the rabbits that live in my front yard carrots as some kind of cosmic compensation for not being able to stop. I’m sure my mother thought I was ridiculous, but she didn’t say as much.

Still, I’m doing really well emotionally. I’m really excited. AND, because I’m not eating my emotions, I’ve lost like 10 lbs! Okay, it’s a little less than that, but I was pushing 300lbs… Never quite hit it, but got DAMN DAMN close. I’m now at 291 even as of this morning. It’s really nice. I hope to pickup exercising again, and get even more off. I’m not making plans to weigh 145 or anything so terribly close to my ideal BMI, but if I could get down to 200lbs again, I’d be really happy.  That’s high school weight! Lol.

Other things:

  • I’m going out to celebrate a friend’s birthday this month!
  • I’m going to Comicon for the first time!
  • I might go see Heathers at Red Rocks!
  • And I still have Manson & Zombie to look forward to!
  • Oh, and Mothership is taking me to see Bob Seger in February!

I’m also talking to Robot Boy again… I invited his gloriously fashionable best friend to my book club, and she came and told him she was with me, and it turns out he missed me. We might hang out this weekend.

In news I’m sad about, the Polygon is shutting down. All my poly friends that liked the communal living are moving onto bigger and better things. So, I have the Polygon House Cooling party in July and it will be that last polygon party. SO SAD! It’s the end of an era… but I’m so happy for all of them. I hope we manage to keep in touch.

So… things are on the up and up. Who could have seen that coming?! Not me. Lol.



I’m Not Okay

::queue song::

Okay so the song doesn’t really relate… but I’m NOT okay.


I’m tired and irritable and I want to scream and throw shit and hurt people. There’s a PC that’s been sitting on my desk at work, and if I had less control of myself I’d take it and go beat a coworker to death with it. I don’t even care which coworker… but I’d beat their skull in with a PC.

I just want to hurt people. I want people to hurt because I hurt and there’s no wound to blame it on. It’s just fucked up emotional turmoil that no one understands or cares about, and it’s got me all fucked up.


Because this is my life. This is going to be life until such a time as my life ends. This isn’t “the summer I was kinda sad” or some little pothole in the generally good life that is mine. This is my severe mental illness that never goes away, and never gets noticeably better, and will never have a fucking cure. I’m just damned to go through the rest of life feeling hopeless and shitty and impulsively getting drunk so I don’t feel hopeless and shitty for a couple of hours.

Friday I got my bangles back from fuccboi. I call him that, because that’s what I see him as now. He was nice enough, to be honest. We had a couple drinks and I invited him to the gig I was going to, because after three Saisons I was bored and I didn’t care if he tagged along, so long as I didn’t have to bring him back to that side of town. He agreed to cab/Uber/Lyft home. I invited Bird. I got drunk. It was great. 130 came and I went home, and reminded fuccboi I wasn’t taking him home. Somehow he managed to get a ride from Bird… and good for her, being a better person than me, but I was manic and drunk and I don’t give a fuck.

Saturday and Sunday all I did was sit high out of my mind and binge watch Adam Ruins Everything. It’s weird, because I actually felt pretty good when I got up on Saturday, but I still couldn’t DO anything. I sat there for two days, binge eating, and only left the house to go to a movie with mom, where I also ate. I felt like a worthless piece of shit on Sunday evening… and I was correct about that.

All the shit I want to do, all the goals I have for the next year, and all I could fucking do was nothing this weekend.

Don’t get me wrong, sometimes you deserve to do nothing. Nothing can be great… this was not great. I could have cleaned up the backyard, done something in the basement, folded the rest of my clothes, mopped, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom, LITERALLY ANYTHING, but no…

I got up this morning and decided this has GOT to end. It sounds motivational, but mostly I’m just pissed off at myself. I’m officially so fat I am sometimes out of breath just trying to wipe my ass. That’s not an exaggeration, that’s the reality of my body trying to maneuver all this fat around so I can reach and most of it cramming into my chest cavity against my diaphragm. That’s too fat. It’s official. It’s too fat. And this weekend? Too much wasted time. Fucking wasted all that time that I could have done something with. And it’s gotta stop, because if it doesn’t stop I have no reason to live.

I talk about suicide a lot. Do you know why? Because I think about suicide a lot. My life is already so fucking meaningless that the only reasons I’m still around is so my mom doesn’t kill HERself, and because I have dogs that I don’t want going back to shelter care. I’m not here because life has meaning, or because life is secretly beautiful, or anything so wonderful as that. I’m here because dying is inconvenient at the moment, but if I’m just going to give up why let my mom watch as I slowly kill myself with food and depression, I could save us both a tortured journey to my grave.

I weighed 288.8 this morning. That’s officially the fattest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I literally didn’t move this weekend. That’s officially the laziest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I’m turning into my grandmother. I just need to get on disability and be addicted to daytime court shows. I can die in my chair, suffocating on my own neck fat. That’s not how she died, but it’s the image I have of her burned into my brain from childhood… just drinking coffee and falling asleep with a lit cigarette in her hand. I loved my grandmother, but I never want to be that. If I’m going to be that, I’d rather be dead.

So if my life is going to be me, not being emotionally okay ever again, I might as well torture myself down to normal people sizes. I’d settle for a Torrid zero, which is a large… a size 12… It’s not the 130 lbs I’ve always wanted to be… but it’s a lot fucking better than here. It’s 3 dress sizes… it’s a lot… but honestly… it’s not like I’m doing anything better with my time, am I?

It’s Not The Same

Know what’s irritating?
When people assume that I wanna lose weight to be healthy.
I got news for those people… thin and healthy aren’t the same thing.

If I wanted to be healthy, I’d start an exercise plan that was just a little more cardio than weight lifting. I’d also eat whole grains, fruits, veg, and never eat processed food again. I’d give up Coca-Cola, Monster, Coffee, and Tea so I could trade them all in for water. I’d throw away my scale at home and probably also my microwave and TV for good measure. I may or may not cut out all meat that isn’t white fish. That’s being healthy.

I don’t want to be healthy. I don’t wanna run a 5k. I don’t wanna be toned or strong or anything like that. I just want to be thin. I want to be the same piece of shit human being that I am, that watches anime on the sofa and refuses to leave the house except for work, but the thin version.

I know lots of thin people that aren’t healthy, without even mentioning the extremes of anorexia and bulimia. They can’t run. They get winded going up stairs. They eat McDonald’s a lot. I know lots of vegans and vegetarians that aren’t healthy or thin because they eat a lot of fried food. I know a number of healthy people that can outrun you, but aren’t thin.


This bothers me for a number of a reasons, but the biggest one is a dear friend of mine. Being naturally thin most of their lives, this person didn’t really know what to do when they reached a point in their lives where they gained weight. They were depressed. They were upset. They thought about giving up on life, because life was already really hard, and then there was the weight. I know that feel, but having been fat more or less my entire life, I couldn’t help but feel that they were being a BIT over-dramatic.

If you want to lose weight, and that’s your biggest goal, I can tell you which diet will fit your life style and give you the results you want. I really can. I know that sounds stupid, because I’m a great big fat person, but I’ve been on ALL THE DIETS and I know what works.

So this person, at one point, was happiest being really fit. They also don’t have great cooking skills, but don’t mind eating things that aren’t really a “meal” as much as it’s just food. They didn’t want to join a gym, but I knew that once they started seeing results they would be motivated to keep a routine up. So, I told them to try the 21 Day Fix by Beach Body.

If you don’t know, the 21 Day Fix is a great program. You get containers. You put stuff in those containers. That’s what you get to eat that day. You also do a 30 min workout each day in your living room. You WILL lose weight. It’s very simple to do. It’s a little pricey to start, because you have to buy the containers, eating plan, and workout video, but after that you’re good. Also, if you add Shakology to your meal plan, I hear it can increase your results. It’s an easy, effective plan for people that like feeling fit.

The down side to the 21 Day Fix, and the reason I don’t do it, is because I’m a lazy fuck that likes to cook. Now, you can totally take the ingredients in the containers and make them into meals, but it requires a lot of planning. Also, even if you’re making meals, at some point it’s gonna get repetitive. That can be good, because studies show that if you eat the same thing all the time your body starts to use it more efficiently than if you change food everyday… but I like variety. Also, I’m not a great self-motivator. You want me to workout for 30 mins a day? Unless you’re going to be there convincing me to do it… I’m prolly gonna let that DVD collect dust. I just don’t like to workout. I find it mindless and boring. Plus, I’m just a lazy fuck. I like to do things that let me lie down. Reading, TV, drawing… all activities I can do laying down.

Here’s the thing, though. I get that people feel superior to me because I’m a Fatty McFatFace, but when I am the one that told you about your wonderful new life style, you don’t get talk down to me. This friend does that more than they probably realize. I don’t think it’s on purpose, but it bothers the shit out of me. I have weird health problems, and I’m overweight, but those aren’t actually related. So snide comments about how great your health is because on Beach Body you eat so much veg and ingest the multivitamin comparable Shakology… that shit is unappreciated. It’s especially unappreciated since it’s not like I’m over here binge eating take out.

In recent weeks I’ve put forth more effort into losing weight than I’ve put out in a long long time. I’m on a caloric restriction. I’m eating well-rounded vegetable centric meals. I’ve all but kicked meat. I’m walking 8-10k steps a day, which is roughly 5 miles. I’ve done all the math, and I SHOULD be losing weight. Instead, I’m gaining weight, and I feel like shit every single day. My body hurts. I’m tired. My moods are off the charts. It’s shitty.

Why am I gaining weight? Fuck, I don’t know.
If you ask anyone that hasn’t been a career dieter, they will spout off that shit about your body going into “starvation mode.” Here’s the thing about starvation mode… It’s a luxury your body can only do, if you’re  eating enough that it CAN save calories.

So if you’re 135 lbs… your caloric expenditure just to live is roughly 1600. That’s getting up, going to a desk job, and doing nothing for exercise. So if you don’t exercise and you eat more than 1600 cals consistently, you’ll slowly gain weight. If you eat 2000 cals and run for like… 30-45 mins a day, you’ll prolly stay about the same weight. If you’re gaining weight and you notice you’re eating a 2000 calorie diet at 135 lbs and drop to the usually recommended 1600-1800 cals a day, you’re not gonna lose weight, and it’s not because of “starvation mode.” Your body WILL start a diet here by trying to run you the most efficiently, meaning it decreases metabolism and reduces your living caloric expenditure as best it can… and once it realizes that you’re not gonna starve to death it’ll kick back up and adjust to the small change. You can help this with a fluctuating caloric intake ranging from 1400-1800 cals a day, instead of an even keel 1600, because it assures your non-sentient systems that you’re not dying.

I used 135 lbs because it’s my white whale goal weight.
Because it’s my weight goal, I try to live at what I would live at if I ever achieved that goal. It’s not an approved diet method, but it makes sense that if I wanna be 135 lbs, I should just live like I am 135 lbs, and my body will have to follow suit.

So… I happen to be roughly 270 lbs at any given time, as of late (and yes, I hate myself for it). I use roughly 2650 cals just living. This means that on a regular 2000 cal diet, I should lose some weight even if I don’t get out of bed. I’m on a roughly 1200-1600 cal diet and I’ve upped my caloric expenditure by walking. Even if my walking is a CRAWL, I’m burning 3430 cals, roughly, a day, and taking in 1200-1600 cals a day. That’s a HUGE deficit. I SHOULD be losing. Even if all my cals were comprised of ice cream and lard from a tub, I should be losing. If my body were to shut down my systems to the bare minimum, I should still be losing SOME weight.

Click here for the site I use for weight loss expenditure.

So… why am I not gaining weight? I’m eating less, I’m exercising more. Is it water weight? It’s not muscle build. I have no idea. Why do I feel like shit? Am I really just so out of shape that leisurely walking is killing me? I don’t think so, but maybe… but at two weeks of this, I should start feeling better. I don’t. Am I just not up on my nutrition? I think I am. I even made a conscious effort to ingest more potassium, because I know it’s recommended for achy muscles.

If anyone has an idea, please let me know.

Seriously, though… if you have a fat friend… stop being a passive dickwad to them just because they don’t live like you. If it was so easy for everyone to be thin or healthy, we would be.

Also if you have a thin friend, and you’re NOT thin… don’t be a passive dickwad to them, either. It’s just as hard for some people to gain weight as it is for me to lose it. Thin people are unhappy, too. Don’t make comments about it.

Three MFing Pounds.

Life has been hard, as of late. I’m not really sure why I feel this way, to be honest. I mean, yeah, we have a new GM that’s kind of trying to fix everything at once, but that hasn’t really affected me THAT MUCH. I’ll have to do a little more IT work, because he let the company we were using go… but other than that… whatever.

I’ve just been depressed, recently. Can’t seem to break it for more than a day, and of course being UP for a day means I crash the next day. I’ve been trying to diet and exercise… and I honestly think that’s a contributing factor.

Now, let me clarify… It’s not the diet that depressed me, but the fact that I kept to the diet and exercise for seven days, I gained 3 lbs instead of losing anything. Before anyone says it, I don’t think it’s me gaining muscle mass. I’ve been walking, not weight lifting. Trying to get as close to 10k steps as I can. Closer to 6-8k most days, but that’s still way more than I ever used to move. You’d think I’d drop half a pound or something… not gain three motherfucking pounds. It’s discouraging as fuck.

On top of that, I have a weirdness with exercise. People always say the same stupid shit about exercise to people that don’t like to exercise.

If you keep at it, you’ll learn to love it and you’ll get addicted to it.

Bitch, no I will not. Stop telling me that. Do you know how quickly people get addicted to heroin? Almost immediately. Nicotine? Pretty quick. Gym? Fuck you. I’ve been trying to get addicted to exercising for 10+ years. Still hasn’t taken. I sometimes manage to develop a habit for months to a year, but I’ve never been addicted to it. I never CRAVE to exercise. I have to negotiate with myself over it, or berate myself into submission to do it. I never feel GLAD I exercised. I never get done and think, “Yeah, I wish I could feel like this all the time.” I always hate it. I always get done and just start debating taking up meth or cocaine, both of which are much more addictive and effective for weight loss.

Maybe it’s just me.
I can’t think of a single good association I’ve ever had with exercise since I was a kid, so maybe I have just been conditioned to hate it. #Pavlov
Maybe it’s because I’m bipolar, so my brain doesn’t release endorphins like it should.
All I know is that I’m really motherfucking tired of being told exercise is addictive and NEVER being able to get myself addicted to it.
No. No it motherfucking is not. If it is, then that shit isn’t universal, so you should still stop saying it. You’re just making me feel broken, and I have enough issues getting motivated.

The only way I’m any good at exercise is to be angry. Tell me I can’t do something, I’ll do it or literally die trying just to shut your stupid fucking face. I’m like She-Hulk or something. Thing is, though, I can’t be that angry every single god damn day. It’s a form of mania. After mania, I fucking crash. SO… yeah, I can go on that 7 mile hike with you and rage my way through it, but for the next week I will only have the energy to get up, go to work, come home, and cry till I fall asleep. That’s my reality. I don’t like it, but I can’t change it.

The diet hasn’t been bad. I’m kind of used to the eating habits, now. To the point that I had Chipotle yesterday, and it wasn’t even very good. Like, I just wished I’d cooked instead of getting it. It wasn’t bad by any means. I just would have prolly enjoyed my own cooking better, and it would have had less calories. Lesson learned.

Maybe I’ll just stop eating lunch and live off caffeine. I have to lose weight, and I’m not interested in being healthy about it. I’ve never wanted to be healthy. I don’t wanna be fit. I just wanna be rail thin. If I had a genie… my first wish would be, “I wanna be a size small with C-cup boobs forever.” People don’t get that concept. It’s how you can tell they’ve never been fat. I don’t wanna be able to run a 5k. I don’t wanna eat healthy greens. I don’t wanna eat heart healthy. I don’t really care about living a long time. I just wanna be thin.

But I also want to eat food I like.

The two don’t really go together.

My doctor once did a genetic test on me to see what foods my body would digest most effectively. It’s supposed to be a scientific approach to weight loss, because you just change over to foods you’re genetically pre-disposed to digest effectively, and you should lose some weight and feel better with only minimal efforts. My diet was a VERY low-carb Mediterranean diet, and it would have worked… because I’d rather NOT EAT than eat most of the things on my food list. Not terribly fond of mackerel and olives with bitter leafy greens you’re not allowed to cook with brown sugar and pork fat. Just… gross.

I’m gonna try this shit for another week… if I don’t lose some weight, I’m just going to stop eating lunch. That means, since I already don’t eat breakfast, I will be eating just dinner. Cuts my cals to about 800 on a bad day… if I don’t lose weight eating that little… I dunno. Maybe I’ll just take a knife and cut all the fat off like that girl in the ABCs of Death and see if I bleed out. Least I’d die pretty.

Is Fat Better Than Flab?

Guys, I’m scared to lose weight.

So my weight loss goals go unachieved every single year. I might drop some weight, but I haven’t lost any significant weight since 2009. There’s a myriad of reasons for it, including a binge eating habit and a lack of activity being up there at the top of reasons I struggle with my weight, but there’s a bigger reason that no one really understands until they’re looking down the barrel of it…


This picture comes from an article about a woman that lost 110 lbs. This is what her body looked like afterward… just extra skin everywhere. She tried to exercise it away to no avail, and finally she had to have four surgeries to remove 10 lbs of skin. The end product is still not what she thought she’d get, but it’s better. (Click to read the whole article, it’s great.)


So… Doing the math… if I were to lose the 125 lbs that I want to lose, this is my future. I’d also like to point out that she had breast augmentation to get those boobs back. She lost all her boobs, as you can see in the previous picture. So, I’ll be flabby and flat-chested, instead of fat with boobs.


No one told me, growing up, that this could happen. I was always kind of a fat kid. I could have been a thin teenager and maybe I wouldn’t have become a fat adult until way later in life. It’s only recently that I’ve been made aware that this is my impending reality if I ever get my shit together. I was always told that my skin, being young as it is, would snap back into place. Now, I’m on the wrong side of 25, and it’s officially too late to go back.

Do I still want to lose weight? Yes. Of course I do. I’d love to not be fat, but I don’t really know if I’m more upset by the idea of being fat my entire life, or losing weight just to end up with miles of skin covered in stretch marks that will never fade, that someone will probably have to CUT off of my person. I mean, neither is particularly appealing.

I thought of this, not just because I read the article, but because I’m looking to start hiking this year… Which I hate and don’t want to do, but I said I would do it, so I’m going to do it… But if you couple my diet plans with hiking, I should lose weight… Which is great! Except that I’m terrified out of my mind to end up a pile of skin. I don’t think I could deal with that, mentally. I think I’d wake up one morning and just kill myself, because if you can’t be happy being thinner, then what the fuck is going to make you happy?

I know it sounds overdramatic…. and I’d have to actually a substantial amount of weight before skin would be a problem for me… but… I dunno. It just makes losing weight seem so pointless.

Not to mention all the fat people that lose weight and then die of heart problems… Momma Cass didn’t die from choking on a sandwich. She lot a ton of weight, was really healthy for once in her life, and her heart gave out. John Pinette did the same thing more recently.

It just feels… so fucking pointless to try and get my shit together…  Flab. Death. That feeling of perpetual unhappiness even when you achieve you life goals, because life is really quite meaningless and we’re all just killing time and distracting ourselves from death….

I think I’m having an existential crisis.


Birthdays. What can I say about birthdays?

Not a lot. They don’t really mean anything to me anymore.

I haven’t had a real birthday party since I was 21. I don’t actually call that a real birthday party, though, since most of the guests were my boyfriend’s and not mine. I think like 5 people I actually knew myself showed up, but it was nice that his friends came, anyways, I guess. And they cut my cake with a samuri sword… so… Memorable.

Anyways, for my birthday this year (which was Halloween, if you missed that) I went to a friend’s Halloween party. It was a poly party. They converted the detached garage into a “dungeon” for play, but I didn’t actually see many people in there. The house mates made me a cake, because they’re genuinely nice and magical people. I invited Bird and Cat, but Cat got stuck with her nephew all day and was too exhausted to come… and Bird showed up for like an hour. I had fun, though. The people at poly parties are always interesting, and always very nice. And they sang me happy birthday, so… bonus.

My birthday cost me 6 lbs… so… I’m back to dieting. Gotta get back on it and drop more weight. It’s weird how fast it can creep back on. But I guess I’m not really surprised. I’ve been drinking a ton of soda, not enough water, and mostly eating WAY TOO MUCH Chipotle. I’ve been doing that thing where I get tacos and a bowl and eat both in one sitting… I dunno why.

It’s NaNoWriMo.
I’ve never really been a writer, but I think I might try this year… Just put it in a side blog, I guess… I need a place to storyboard my  comic book idea, anyways. Since I’m a day behind, I guess I’ll have to write two entries today… Or 3333 words in one entry. We’ll see. Idk…

I guess that’s it. Birthday was uneventful, but I did buy myself a neat new video game called Until Dawn. So… Yeah.


So… Back in 2009 I joined a weight loss site. That year looked like this.


I started at 235, developed the habit of either not eating for days, or going on a binge and then spending the next 30 minutes throwing up as much as possible (even though I later learned that once food hits your mouth, you’re fucked). It wasn’t at all healthy, but everyone was so proud of me when I dipped down into the 190s. It didn’t matter to them how I got there, since they didn’t see it. They saw me drink a coke everyday. It’s weird how no one even questions how someone might drop weight so fast.

As you can see, it didn’t last. It got to a point where my body just threw up every time I ate. It scared me, and the weight started to creep back toward the end of the year.

I kept the account that I signed up for in 2009, and would update it. Not to a whole lot of purpose, but just occasionally felt like making myself want to die, I guess. There were a few times I tried to lose weight again, but I couldn’t commit to eating nothing anymore. I didn’t relish the pain in my guy anymore. It was just reminiscent of that horrible place where I would throw up every time I ate… so over the years (2009-2015) my chart looked like this.


So where I started at 235, which was 35 lbs above my high school weight in 2006, I topped out earlier this year at 280.

280 is officially unacceptable. I know some people will say that over 200 should have been unacceptable, but to those people I say fuck off. You don’t know my life. The point is that I came within 20 lbs of being a 300 lb person and that, for me, is unacceptable. I’ve been a fat person my entire life, but something about 300lbs just floored me.

Was it my rock bottom? Was it some kind of wake up call?
I dunno. I’m pretty sure I could get substantially lower (fatter) before I’d call it my end all rock bottom moment of absolute change. It was a shitty moment, though. I don’t know how I let it creep up so high. It’s like waking up one morning to see a strange looking back at you… and that stranger wants donuts.

So, in June I started looking into diets. Over the course of my life I’d tried them all. From Ana and Mia diets, to fad diets, to beach body, to weight watchers, to coffee and cigarettes, to paleo, to vegan, to whatever. It seemed to me that finding a diet that worked for a long run of life was impossible. How are you supposed to stick to all these thing when you’re also trying to live your life. Yes, being thin would terrific, but I also really like tacos… and when my friends and I go out, we like to drink and get tacos… so, your diet of “you can never drink alcohol again or eat anything that may or may not have touched a fryer” wasn’t going to work for me. I get that you can’t do that shit everyday, but what is life without cheat days?

After a lot of investigation, I settled on Slim Fast. I associated it with older women that say they’re dieting, but really just drink themselves to death, but when I looked into it, it’s a pretty sound kind of diety thing. You’re getting good nutrition intake… and if you’re going out you just skip your shakes and snacks to use the calories for whatever. It even had good longevity, since people can go off it and if they feel they’ve gained it’s not going to wreck your life to start it again. I had always liked the concept of calorie counting, but this was easier since I was only calculating a 500 cal meal and some 100 cal snacks.

And so, I present to you my chart from when I started dieting in July to now.


Yeah, there’s been turbulence. That’s not a straight line. It’s not the most direct path. But anyone can see the trend, here. I’m losing. I’m losing without starving myself. I’m losing without even sticking to Slim Fast or a constant calorie intake.

At this point, I keep Slim Fast around, but I’m not strict with it. Mostly I track my calories. My goal for the day is 1200. If I’m under 1400 I’m happy with it. If I’m under 2000, I live with it. Not everyday is a winner. Some days I want Coke and Chipotle. Some days I eat a cucumber and drink a lot of water, and come in crazy under calories. But… I’m losing.

As of this morning I’m under 260. 20 lbs down.
I also fit in a smaller pant size. So… that’s pretty cool for me.

This shit is hard. I can’t honestly tell you if dieting or quitting smoking is harder for me. Both make me feel like life is empty and pointless when I think about them too long.
I am, admittedly, doing substantially better at dieting than quitting smoking, though… >_>

So… there ya go.