fatty. no good for you.


The 2008 Erections, Part 1

With all the talk about President Obama's first term's successes and failures, and the Romney/Kony 2012 campaign in full effect, it's about time I reflect on what life was like for me 4 years ago.

This time in 2008, I had been married for just over a year, and it was already clear that two things were going to destroy my marriage: my sleep apnea and a lack of sex.

The sleep apnea was horrible.  I had gained a bit of weight into 2008, and we were simply no longer sleeping together (in the literal sense) because my snoring was terrible.  Over the course of the night I would stop breathing, which I understand is a bit like death.  Eventually, I had to pick up a CPAP device to help with my breathing while I was sleeping.  The pressure setting was so high that unless very, very tightly secured, the mask would push off my face.  If I would move at all after setting the mask, the air would make a sound that wasn't like farting or those awesome armpit noises all the kids make.  Since I was merely 30 while this was happening, I was certain I'd be looking into the mobile lifestyle of a Hoveround by now.

While this was terrible on its own, by 2008, I stopped being able to have sex.  I could not get an erection without Viagra, and I couldn't preserve it for anything more than focused masturbation to save my life.  My wife and I tried twice, maybe three times during the entire year.  She never made me feel terrible about it, but it's nothing you can ever feel good about regardless.  This was the eradication of my manhood.

Let's rewind a little bit further to see how I got here.

I first noticing some erection quality issues in 2004.  They were safely attributed to days when I had masturbated twice during the day, and that I had been a little less physically active.  I had cracked 200 lbs at some point during the year, and recall seeing myself at 215 in early 2005.  At that time, I was living with a woman who I was certain I'd end up engaged to before long.  I could still fuck, but I wasn't enjoying it as much, and I seemed a little less firm than I used to.  I noticed as my weight increased, my enjoyment decreased as well.

By 2006, I was finding myself crippled by an inability to work well.  I was very stressed out, unquestionably depressed, and radiated hate and anger because of work struggles and financial issues.  The only good things left in my world were my girlfriend (the woman I'd ultimately marry) and food.  I consumed a lot of both, frankly.  Then came antidepressants (a few were tried), followed shortly thereafter by Adderall.  Since honesty is what this blog is about, the antidepressants just made complacent with the fact everything was terrible, and opened me up to more impulsive and stupid behaviors.  I think Adderall's benefits were masked by everything that came with the antidepressants, as I take just Adderall now, and I do realize a benefit.

It was now 2007.  I was married in March.  My weight had certainly topped 250 by now.  Sexually, I now was useless.  I told my doctor about my situation, and he advised me on Viagra.  I took it, and it worked as intended.  I did suffer from headaches, but that was the worst side effect I endured.  I still didn't enjoy sex much, though.

For a brief time in August, on my second of two honeymoons with my wife, things were different for me.  We were walking several miles a day throughout Europe.  We ate several times a day, but in small amounts.  And I could fuck...without Viagra.  It was enjoyable too.  Everything felt right - no work stress, just quality time with the woman I loved.

We were certain we'd change our habits once we returned to the United States, but nothing changed.  Increased depression yielded increased antidepressant and Adderall dosages.  In turn, larger Viagra doses and blood pressure pills.  I got fatter and fatter, and did less and less.  The headaches I would get from Viagra, as well as its cost, made it no longer worth using.  In early 2008, I cracked 270 lbs, and walking up just a few steps would tire me out.  Another thing I noticed was that I was dry heaving when I did anything remotely strenuous, or when air quality changed - like going indoors to outdoors, or from indoors to my garage.  I wasn't just sexually useless.  I was completely useless.

Antidepressants masked the pain that came with becoming useless.  When I wasn't at work, I was either sleeping or wishing I was.  Sleep meant being hooked up to a CPAP like my breath was being harvested for gum commercials.  Financial issues weighed heavily on me as I had bought a new house, and we could not sell our old one.  My wife would no longer sleep with me, and she could no longer fuck me.  I could count on one hand the number of 2008 erections there were, and none of them were of fuckable quality.  There was nothing good about what I was anymore, and it would only get worse.

I refuse to end the entry on such a down note, but I'm sparing the details of how things improved for part 2.  Despite the struggles of the last several months, I'm sitting at 273 lbs.  Down 34 overall, and finally running - not just walking - on a treadmill.

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