fatty. no good for you.


I like short songs!

In August of 2011, I weighed 316 at the doctor's office. Allowing 5 lbs for clothes, this is just over 55 lbs lost.


I'd like to hit 250 by next Friday, but it's not realistic. This number is a tribute to my hard work and the insight, support, and harassment of at least a dozen others. Thank you.

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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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“All this frustration, I can’t meet all my desires…

... Strange conversation.  Self-control has just expired." - James, "Born of Frustration"

When I know I need to remain composed, I cannot be shaken.  I generally don't have immediate, emotional responses to situations - even if they absolutely call for it.

When I have the leeway to make a mistake, I explode in the most self-defeating methods available.

On Tuesday, I accomplished something professionally epic at work that I only fully realized in hindsight.  I'd share it here, but then I'm really putting myself out further than I feel I should.  My boss was proud, to say the least.

That night, I had a rare panic attack.  Very rare.  Annually at best.  I took a brief nap, and woke up as if the world was ending.  My brain was mush, and while I was aware of my surroundings, my perception of them made no sense.  I couldn't keep my head upright.  I couldn't figure out what my girlfriend was trying to communicate to me.  I took a couple ativan pills to wind myself down.  I woke up on the couch ashamed that I had only a vague memory of what trouble I was the night before.  This was especially rough as she and I always sleep together, and neither of us like sleeping alone anymore.  I feel like I let her down and I don't know what caused it.

Fast forward to Thursday.  I had a small breakdown in the morning that stayed with me throughout the day.  I was frustrated because a claim from last year's surgery, now nearly 7 months ago, still hasn't been processed.  I also have pending issues regarding state taxes, local taxes, a credit account, among others, and it weighted heavily.  It rendered me nearly useless dealing with the frustration of the inaction or errors of others.

I'm usually better than this.  I fully realize that I can only control my actions, and my ability to influence a claims processor, telephone representative, etc., is pretty small.  However, after 7 months, and with a few thousand dollars on the line, my patience was thin.  I took out frustration on those I was speaking to, but it didn't make me feel any better.  My failure to mitigate this stress and frustration only made me feel worse.  So, I was only nominally productive the balance of the day, and that only hurts me more.

I realize my life is full of spectacular nonsense.  I do what I can with what I have.  I just have a very low threshold for personal mistakes, and this one was big.  I need to maintain better control over my emotions, my responses, and my brain as a whole.  Mental health is a big deal, and clearly I'm not doing what I need to maintain it.

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“I’ve been too honest with myself…

I should have lied like everybody else." - Manic Street Preachers, "Faster"

This has been one of my favorite lyrics of all time.

These last several months have affected me considerably, though.  I was heavily inspired by my good friend to create this blog based on what I saw her writing about and what the response to her was.  She's brutally honest, if not graphic, about who she is, what she endures, and what makes her awesome.

Most everything that's wrong in my life can be attributed to issues about honesty.  One of the many reasons I started this blog was for me to take a look at myself, what I wanted out of life, and the path to get there.  Did I want to be in another committed relationship, or did I want the freedom to fuck everything life would allow for?  Did I want to be healthy, or was I aiming for unrealistic goals of recreating my youth via aggressive weight loss?  Did I even know what I wanted, or was everything just a function of what feels good at a given moment?

I still don't wholly know the answers to this.

What I do know is that I've moved very, very aggressively in a new relationship.  The amazing woman I spoke of 3 weeks ago is my girlfriend, and I've been staying with her most nights - including every night since Monday.  I have a situation in which my ex-wife lives here and hates how loud we fuck.  My girlfriend's situation is owning a house that is almost uninhabitable due to water damage.  So, naturally, we're both staying at someone's house from her church who is headed to Afghanistan to help with that clusterfuck.

Here's the thing: I'm mostly happy with this.  She's pretty amazing.  I basically consider her "out of my league", but there's enough things she likes about me that I can rationalize this to be alright.  We're still trying to overcome the age gap - which is 8.5 years.  She's used to dating older men; I'm definitely not used to significantly younger women.  Most everything else makes sense, and she is really, really happy with me.  I see it in her eyes, her smile, and I think her ass even perks up when I look at it.  I'm happy with her.  She is aware of any significant shortcoming I have and assures me it's not an issue.

I can admit sometimes I don't know I want something until I see it.  It's like that impulse buy of Reese's peanut butter cups that you just suddenly think "HOLY FUCK THAT SOUNDS FUCKING AMAZING" at its sight.  I knew the moment I saw her that I wanted her to be mine.  After spending time with her, I never wanted her to leave my side.  The next steps are a bit unclear - but I am happy.  What I need to be sure of next is that I'm ready for this happiness now without losing sight of the big goals.

Getting back to the original Manic Street Preachers quote...I'm starting to hate it.  For a very long time, I pushed the boundaries of who I was and what I could do - and not without both significant failures and relevant successes.  I know who I am now, and knowing myself gives me a pretty unique insight into what it takes to improve the parts of my life I'd like to.  I can't do that without honesty.  I've come to understand that being honest about yourself makes it easier to be honest with others.  I can say I'm 270 lbs, but in the same breath, I can say I'm down nearly 40 lbs since the middle of last year.  Both those clauses are true, and whatever someone chooses to take from it is up to them.

That said, the scale at the home I'm staying at has me at 264, but I think it's fucked.  I'll get a real weight when I have time.


Terry Bradshaw Sucks

I was too young to see Terry Bradshaw play, but he was the quarterback for the Steelers, identifies himself as Republican, and is widely speculated to take the short bus to all his  Fox Sports events.  I wouldn't trust him to sell me a handshake.

He's one of the spokespeople for Nutrisystem, a program I had considered at one time.  However, Nutrisystem allowed itself to become the missing link between the AXE effect and Dr. Pepper Ten in the irresponsible macho male marketing arena.  Key phrasing such as "Nutrisystem has created a weight loss meal plan specifically for men that includes the food men want such as burgers, pizza, pasta and chips."  Clearly, by not wanting burgers, I must not be a man.

Fuck you, Nutrisystem.

On both their website and commercials, they cite that Bradshaw has lost 32 lbs.  They don't say how much of it was diet vs. exercise, they don't provide a reference time frame, they just say he lost the weight.  That's a very weak sell for me.

So, why am I all bent out of shape over Nutrisystem, Terry Bradshaw, and the Steelers?

I am down 32 lbs. today, with a slight rounding up.  275.5 was today's weigh-in, meaning I'm down 31.7 lbs since that first August picture, or roughly 15 lbs. year to date, and we haven't even finished 2 months yet.

So, Terry Bradshaw, you may have lost 32 lbs., but you're still a swollen asshole of a man endorsing a shit product.  I lost 32 lbs. through a solid combination of diet and exercise, and I'm saving my bragging rights until my tale is told in full.

Filed under: Food, Humor, Weight Loss 1 Comment

Progress worth sharing…


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Previously, on http://fatty.vuxe.com…

...it's been a little while since I posted.  I've been busy.

I met a good friend in Nashville a couple weekends back, and the week that followed was a time of rest and reflection.

This week, I started a new job.  But you're not here for that.

I'm now at the "30 pounds lost" mark, leaving 107 to go.  I am fitting into clothes most recently worn in 2009.

I'm also happy.  Well, happy-ish.  I'm not complacent or anything irresponsible like that.  I recognize I've made progress, and that I remain on track for success.  These are important things.

I'll be a bit more snarky again soon, but I wanted to make it clear I was still going to update this, even if it's been a while since I've posted a weigh-in.

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I did a few things to set myself back last week:

  • I missed my weigh-in twice.
  • I missed my workouts for 4 straight days
  • I shared one of those epic 16" pizzas with my ex-wife

The net damage seems marginal as my weight is slightly down over the week, but it doesn't mean I'm not disappointed in myself.

My work-related struggles continued last week, both by playing catch-up on work I should have had done, and in dealing with my ADHD.  A small depression and setback that seems to happen monthly even in the best of times.

All of this said, I did work out this morning, and I'm going to do my best to get back on pace.  I'll post more soon, but I wanted to bring things here back to speed.

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New Post Added

I didn't have a better title.

Today wasn't terrible. I even smiled a few times. There's some nice people in Argentina.

I think I'm suffering from a depression in chemistry only. My life isn't actually worse than it was a week ago, it just feels that way.

Not to tempt fate, but there's always opportunities for things to be worse. I'm just hoping for one good thing to happen to help push me through this. I have no idea what that could be.

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While nothing good comes easy, this is what I've had to deal with in the last week.

Date Weight (in lbs.)
24 January 2012 284.8
23 January 2012 286.2
22 January 2012 283.8
21 January 2012 284.2
20 January 2012 283.2
19 January 2012 283.4
18 January 2012 286.0

I've worked out 5 of the last 7 days. My diet has not changed. I'm at a loss to describe this.

This is not winning.

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