I’m A Maniac. A Maniac, On The Floor.

     Those who know me know that I’ve fought a big, stupid, useless, futile battle with my weight for oh, about 30 years. It has been unfun. I have tried everything. All the stupid stuff people do: pills, diets, fasts, one ingredient diets (cabbage), two ingredient diets (tuna and eggs. Bleah.), Food category diets (Atkins), weighing, measuring, skipping meals and compulsive exercising. The latter experiment went hard and heavy for a couple days, then I strained a muscle and did a few batches of fresh soudough bread to aid my recovery.  I’ve been pretty mental. I even tried being bulimic once (literally: once), but I found that throwing up made me hungry again. Weird.

     Finally, in 1997, I discovered that 12 step was the solution to whatever lack I always tended to try and fill with food. For the uninitiated, you can run pretty much anything through the steps and they work. If I can’t lay off comic books, for instance, I realize that I’m powerless over comics, God’s not, I’ll let God deal with comics. I’ll be honest about myself and tell someone else, admit when I’m at fault and spread the word a little. It’s simple. I’ve resisted this “cure” for years, but I know it is the only thing for me. When I do it, it works great. I’m so happy that I’m doing it today and have strung together 39 days of clean food.

     For a couple of years, I’ve been sort of pressed to have The Surgery. It’s been suggested by my closest loved ones, my best friend on earth and even a therapist.  Everybody knows that my husband had it and it was a fantastic thing for him, but it isn’t for me. I know that for me to enjoy a real lasting peace with food, I’ve got to go through the really hard work. I think I’d eat through a gastric bypass, frankly. Eric hasn’t and I’m so happy for the results his choice has brought our whole family. We’re both cool with our difference on this.

     Four years ago, I bought a lifetime membership to 24 Hour Fitness, because I just KNEW that if I did that, I’d feel so much guilt and pressure and shame that I’d haul it in there. (All great life changes begin with those three key components right? Guilt? Check. Pressure? Check. Shame? Check.) I drove around the parking lot many times, but couldn’t do it. I don’t know what really changed for me. Was it getting my food clean? Working a program again? I’m not sure, but I was able to go. Mortified, intimidated, afraid. You know what was there? My joy. My big, gay, goofball joy. I can’t stay out of there. I’ve never had so much fun as I’ve had since I began this journey in earnest, and I feel completely blessed that it is happening for me. And I’m thrilled to get to share it with you, the one person who made it to the end of my page. 😉