Chapter Four: Apprehensive

Day Four

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Starting Weight: 252.4

Previous Weight: 249.2

Current Weight: 248.4

Interdaily Loss: -0.8 lbs

Total Loss: -4.0 lbs

4 lbs off in four days, not too shabby! Though I'm afeared of this weekend -___- After work I'm going to a Hondurian party, followed by an American bar for pool, followed by a Mexican bar for drinking and karaoke. I'm afraid of snowballing away the progress I've made by overindulging today. But I will try my best. Maybe I will want to look dainty in front of company and just eat a little bit! Hah hah. I dont work tomorrow so I won't be able to weigh, but maybe that is for the best so I don't get discouraged.

I'm gunna start monitoring my blood pressure as well, because, well it sucks for someone my age. I need to fix it while I still can, while diet is still enough and medication isn't necessary. It's way too high, but I eat way too salty. I know as I lose weight it will come down, so I really gotta get the reigns on that.

Anywho that's it for now. I hope I'm strong tonight, and though I can't weigh tomorrow I will try to still update in terms of how I did. 

Chapter Three: Right On The Verge

Day Three

Starting Weight: 252.4

Previous Weight: 251.1

Current Weight: 249.2

Interdaily Loss: -1.9 lbs

Total Loss: -3.2 lbs

Welllp, out of the 250s! Now, to make sure it STAYS that way!! I gotta make sure I'm well behaved this weekend as to not topple down the few  building blocks of success I've managed to erect. I did quite well yesterday; I'm rather sure I drank well over 100 oz of water. Today, it's not even 8am and I've already drank well over 60oz. I'm trying to keep flushing my body, keep myself well hydrated, as I know I don't typically drink nearly enough water.

I did good in terms of eating yesterday, until Urs, our social worker, brought in the breakroom these amazing blondies-brownies she had baked. Well, I just had to try one, you know, as to not be rude. The second and third one I ate, I have no justification. At first, I considered buying some friend chicken after leaving work, because I had already "fallen off the wagon" by eating the brownies. But then I thought NO, no no no. I'm stronger than that, I didn't ruin EVERYTHING, and I need to stop acting so childish and extreme. So, french fries would be a better alternative. Loaded with cheese and sour cream and ketchup and tons of salt and.... NO. No, no, no. If I want to shrink my body, I need to grow as a person. So I said No. And it kind of made me realize, it's really just that simple.

I was talking to Nep last night, who's done quite well with losing weight. And he swears by counting calories. I'm not such a fan of the concept, as I know it's not how much I eat, but what exactly I'm eating, and I don't really care how many calories are in the cake once I get a hold of it in my mouth. But he also said I should figure out what the root cause is, the root problem... figure it out and change it.

I laid down for bed shortly after that conversation, and I gave it a lot of thought as I tried drifting off to sleep. It's amazing how much sense things make when you're sleepy and on the verge of unconsciousness. But I realized the root of my problem, I think.. It's pleasure. It's instant gratification. It's learning how to say no to instant, temporary satisfaction and being able to see the long term benefit of doing so. 

I realized a lot of things. That maybe I can turn my weaknesses into strengths. My two weaknesses: I love pleasure, and I love procrastinating. So I came up with a thought regarding food, the bad food that I crave all the time. It's still going to exist tomorrow. I will procrastinate my desire for that food until tomorrow. You know why? Because tomorrow doesn't exist, and if tomorrow doesn't exist, then I will never really eat that bad food.

Maybe this is what finding tomorrow is all about. I think I am well on the pinnacle verge of its discovery.

Chapter Two: Getting there...

Starting Weight: 252.4

Current Weight: 251.1

Interdaily Loss: -1.3 lbs

Total Loss: -1.3 lbs

Well, it is a start. I cannot believe I am struggling my way out of the 250s, when only a few months ago I was dipping my toe so sweetly into the 220s for the first time in years. But thus is the nature of the beast with obesity. You can't get too excited too quickly, you have to go slow and steady and not get over confident. I reward my successes with food, the very definition of counter productive. So I have to behave. I'm trying to drown my fat cells in water today. I'm guzzling water like it's going out of style! The more I drink, the more full I feel, the less I think about filling my tummy with food. 

But drinking water to satiate hunger is like pouring quick sand into a torn bag; no matter how fast you pore it, it goes through so quickly that there is still a void. But you know. It's a start.

I'm so very excited for this weekend. I intend to enjoy myself thuroughly amidst the company of good friends and good alcohol and great food. Food shouldn't be such a motivator of happiness but, it is. It makes me happy. As miserable as the guilty makes me in the afterward, the actual makes me so incredibly satiated and happy. I must find balance.

Chapter One: Breaking Point

Starting Weight: 252.4

I've reached a weight that I swore I would never see again. This is my breaking point. I cannot believe the excess I allowed myself to indulge in the past three days. The worst part is, I didn't even care. I enjoyed myself, immensely thuroughly disgustingly. I drank like a fish, ate like a cow, and slept like a satiated baby. I enjoyed myself with the company of beautiful men, dancing and singing and laughing and just loving life in a way I had forgotten.

Dimly, in the very far back reaches of my mind, I thought of how much more fun this would all be if I wasn't fat.

But it was so dim because in the midst of alcohol and food and friendship, my weight was irrelevant. I felt beautiful and cute and sexy and loved for exactly the fun and friendship I was providing.

But now the alcohol is not present, the food has been consumed, and I am left in the waking path of shame at  how much weight I have gained. I feel burdened, heavier, my clothes feel tighter, my cheeks feel chubbier, I feel disgusted with myself. But I can change.

Today is a new day. I have reached my breaking point and upon this I will repair myself.

The reparation begins today. I will make sure of it. Every hour is an hour of success. Maybe I cant look at the big picture right away, and I need to measure my successes hour by hour. It is something. I have to do something different because obviously the same old thing is not working. As evidence by my newfound heavy, heavy weight. But I will fix it. I will fix this, I can do this.

Prelude: The Cake Is A Lie

((Tick, Tock. The cake is a lie.))

There's actually very little thought involved with a binge. In fact, it's as if my body is on auto-pilot in preparation of the food. If it's cookies, I open the package quickly, prepare my ice cold glass of milk, and zone out in front of the TV. If it's something I have to heat up or put in a little preparation, it's rapid movement... I get my beverage ready as the microwave is counting down so I'm not actually waiting. Everything has to be done quickly as to not think about what I'm actually doing. So the scene is set. The food is ready, the drink is made, I settle in front of the TV and I begin.

The first bite is the best. It sets the precedent. Sweet enough? Yeah. Salty enough? No, never enough, add just a little more salt... ahh, there we go. Perfection. Crunchy? Yes, I like to crunch, the internal sound of chomp, chomp, chomp. My tongue is coated with flavor and my brain receptors for pleasure flare with each sensational bite. Swallowing; the food begins its warm, savory path down my throat to my stomach and it begins the process of filling my stomach that was growling and craving this delicious completion. Each bite is another tick on the countdown clock to satisfaction. Bite. Chew. Chomp, chomp, chomp. Enjoy. Pleasure. Swallow. Tick, tick, tick.

Sooner, rather than  later, all the food is gone. Drink the beverage, wash down the last lingering remnants from my mouth down to my stomach. And what is left? Nothing. The dirty, coated plate with sticky, disgusting remnants. The soppy bowl of leftover melted drippings. My hands are filthy from hasty consumption. My shirt is stained from the rapid movement of food to mouth to bowl to mouth. My stomach feels distended,  bloated with excess. My tongue is coated with a filmy leftover of too much sweet or too much salt or too much something. I drink water now, try to rinse my mouth and rinse my esophagus and rinse my stomach, but my stomach still has all this food and distends further with too much food and now too much water.

I realize that ticking clock to satisfaction was actually a time bomb. The timer is completed and I've exploded with self-hatred and disgust and loathing. I pity myself at my own self-destruction, and I try to put the obliterated pieces of my pride back together.


This is the inside of a binge. It's an illusion of pleasure and satisfaction, waiting for the veil to be ripped off and the truth of disgust and mutilation to be revealed.


Avoiding the illusion is the tricky part. It's damn near impossible at times. Because it looks so good and appealing and tantalizing. But it's a lie. The cake is a lie. There is a game called "Portals" where they say the cake is a lie. They mean that there isn't really any cake at the end of the journey, but for a fat person, it's a lie in it's delicious appeal.

The cake is a lie. 

I understand this now.