Losing a part of me

Category: Rage

  • Day 1187

    For the first time in years my rage erupted yesterday. I have been doing everything I can to keep myself in check, and while I have not always made the right decision, I have nevertheless been able to remain composed. Yesterday afternoon, shortly after I pressed publish on my very short journal entry, I got frustrated with a mouse and smashed it to the floor. I have been trying to keep my emotions in check, but the demon came out of me for a minute. My friend, who was sitting at my kitchen table and watching it happen, was probably more than a little shocked. He asked if I wanted to talk but I said that I did not. Shortly afterwards I walked out to go to dinner with other friends.

    I was not going to go for dinner last night because I was feeling so distraught. I went partly because the alternative was staying home and having to talk about it with my buddy, partly because I knew that the friend with whom I was having dinner is a mental health advocate and if I did want to talk he would be a good listener, but mostly because I knew his wife was preparing dinner based on my dietary requirements and I did not want to cancel at the last minute. During the drive down there, I was able to try to get my emotions in check, and while I am still feeling like total garbage, I am at least back to being somewhat functional.

    It is funny that my head and heart are so completely asunder, and yet my friend and his wife are turning to me to help them. I feel like I am a complete fraud. There is an old saying that therapists need more help than anyone. Maybe right now I am qualified. Who knows? I am probably an idiot for trying.

    It is hard for me to admit but I am in a disastrous place in my life, and I do not know how I will be able to go on. I am told I need to lose weight, which I want to do, but I also feel like I am losing everything and there is nothing good in my life and that drives me to eat. I do now know how or if I will get out of it, but I am not hopeful. At this point I wonder if…

    Hopefully I’ll be a little less miserable tomorrow. I can’t imagine why that would be, but here’s hoping.

  • Know Where To Stick Your Comments

    **This is another article that I wrote during a previous weight loss attempt. It is funny how little editing I needed to do in order to make it apply perfectly to this week, nearly three years later. –MDG

    Has anyone else had it up to here (gesturing just above my head) with people telling you what to do with regard to your weight loss? Is there someone in your life who thinks they know better than you? I suspect we all try to be polite to them, but sometimes it can be too much.

    There was one person that I met recently who fed into my stress. As I said, I have very little patience for people who try to tell me what I should be doing to lose weight… no matter what their intentions are. Yes, they mean well… but do me a favour and keep your opinions to yourself.

    “Mitch, you know that the extra weight you are carrying around is not healthy, right? If you were to do X, you would continue to lose even more weight. You will be so much happier when you do!”

    I usually do not respond when someone opens their mouth like this, but I suppose was having a bad day, and this was just too far. ‘Hey, Fred (not his real name) … thanks for your concern. One of us has lost about 115lbs in the last year, and the other one of us should shut up and save his advice for when I ask for it. Would you care to guess which one of us is which?’

    Yeah, ‘Fred’ was more than a little surprised that I would say that… but really, at this point I think I’ve done pretty well, and that the method I am using is pretty good, wouldn’t you say? If I did not want your advice when I was at my heaviest, what makes you think I would want it now? If you want to offer support, offer words of encouragement. Things that friends have said over the past few weeks:

    • Oh my G-d, Mitch… I cannot believe how well you are doing! Keep it up!
    • Mitch, you look amazing! Keep up the good work!
    • Wow… you are a shadow of your former self!
    • You are a true inspiration to me!
    • Mitch, you look hot!

    All of these are perfectly acceptable (and welcome!) comments. Keep them coming folks!

    The following, on the other hand, are neither helpful nor welcome, and if it is what you were thinking of saying, then just say nothing:

    • You are doing well, but you still have a lot of weight to lose.
    • Mitch, how much more weight do you think you need to lose?
    • If you’d like, I know a doctor with an amazing weight-loss plan that would help you lose the weight even faster!
    • You’ve lost so much weight and still wear a Size 38 pants?
    • You should do X to lose more weight.
    • The program you are following is not healthy, so be careful.
    • If you do not change your habits, you are just going to gain the weight back again.

    Do you see that most of these comments sound like they are meant to encourage me? Some of them are from people who want to help, who think they are helping. Do you know what they all have in common? They are all unsolicited. I can almost guarantee at this point that I know more about weight-loss, but certainly about my own body and weight loss, than you do. I have also spent more time morbidly obese than you have. Please, keep it to yourself.

    I welcome, I love hearing, I love getting words of encouragement. Positive reinforcement is wonderful, and when people tell me how great I look it makes me well with joy. I have figured out what works for me, and that is why I look the way I look now, rather than what I looked like a year (or even three months) ago. Let me keep at it… I assure you I have no desire to ever gain another ounce again. But I have figured out a way to do it without your help, and I am my own harshest critic.

    When I was married to my second wife, I went on a weight-loss program. I asked Theresa (my now ex-wife) to be my Diet Sergeant. For a couple of months, she was… and with her help I did pretty well… until I did not. When I tried to get back on track, I asked her to resume her duties. She told me that it was unfair of me to put that responsibility on her… when no matter how strict she was, I could always circumvent her ‘authority.’ She was right… My diet is just that… mine. The responsibility is mine, and the success or failure of it is mine.

    I am my own harshest critic… in all things, not just the diet program. I beat myself up over it all the time, and nothing that you say will be harsher than what I say to myself. The difference is that I have the right… you do not. My mother used to say that if you have nothing good to say, say nothing. She was the worst offender of this advice that I have encountered in my fifty years on the planet. That does not make it bad advice, it just makes her a hypocrite. If you want to encourage me, say something nice… and completely nice. Be prepared with a follow-up should I be self-deprecating. I’ll give you an example:

    (You) Wow, Mitch… you look like you have lost a ton of weight!

    (Me) Thanks, but it’s just a drop, and I have so much more to go.

    (You) Well you are doing great… whatever it is you are doing, keep it up!

    Do you see how easy that was? On the other hand, the following would be a terrible way to follow up:

    (You) Wow, Mitch… I can’t believe how much slimmer you are than the last time I saw you!

    (Me) Thanks, but I hope the next time you see me I will be even slimmer still.

    (You) Make sure you have the occasional cheat meal, so you do not give up completely. Want to join us for pizza?

    I cheat enough, and I do not need your encouragement or permission. If I tell you I want to lose more weight, just follow up with ‘Well, you are doing great!’ or ‘Whatever you have been doing, keep doing it!’ That’s all I want. That’s all I need. If you cannot say something 100% positive, then don’t say anything.

  • Day 72

    One of the most infuriating parts of my life is the bathroom scale, and the unreliable floor underneath it. There are mornings when I want to drop to my knees and hug them. There are mornings when I want to set off huge explosives at ground zero and let them both leave this world to the hell that they so often make my life.

    Over the last couple of days, I was upset that I was not losing weight at the rate that I would like to, and yesterday I chalked that up to a lack of bowel movement. This morning, after a very respectable make-up for yesterday’s unproductive bathroom attempt, and after a pretty decent diet day (I did have a handful of peanuts, but that shouldn’t destroy me) I got onto the scale to see that I was actually up a pound. You can never find an M-18 Claymore when you need one. I figured it was time to give up on my diet, because obviously nothing that I was doing was working.

    After my shower, I decided to step back onto the scale. Not only was I down from before the shower, but I was also two pounds down from yesterday. I intentionally do not move the bathroom scale – not even an inch – to make sure that any inconsistencies are consistent. I do not know if the scale somehow knows that today is April Fool’s Day and decided to have a little fun with me, but I decided (against habit) to leave both weights in my register. I would usually delete the first and leave the second, so I only have one weight registered on any one day. For today, I decided to make an exception. We will see tomorrow what it says, and hopefully I will be back on track.

    Yes, I know. Either this coming Wednesday, or in the worst-case scenario on my following doctor’s appointment two weeks later, I will start to be able to register my weight on the proper medical scale. I was hoping to be able to start this coming week, but unless I lose five more pounds between now and then, it is unlikely that I will be under the limit. We shall see. In the meantime, the experts say that I should not be weighing myself every day. That has to be exponentially true for people with unreliable floors. If it wouldn’t disrupt my dog’s schedule, I would seriously consider moving the scale into the bedroom.

    I have taken a nice piece of fish out of the freezer for dinner, so my food plans for the day are to have a nice salad (with canned salmon) for lunch and a piece of fresh salmon with a side salad for dinner. I suspect though that I am going to have to start cutting down on my portions of canned salmon, so rather than having the full tin, I will use half of it, and finish it tomorrow. I might also lessen the number of pumpkin seeds I put on both my afternoon and evening salads. We’ will see. I have to find a way to lose more weight – I have been depriving myself for 72 days, and while I made good progress, it is definitely not great progress.

    Happy April Fool’s Day folks… and have a great day!

  • Explaining Today… or Yesterday.

    It was just past 1:00am when HRF Princess Sophie and I walked back into our apartment in Burlington. With gasoline at the highest price I have ever seen in any country ($1.849/litre as I was arriving home) I was not really thinking about that; I knew that we would be driving about 375km on Saturday, but I did not particularly care. We were going to celebrate my goddaughter’s birthday (a week late thanks to Covid), and the price of gas was not going to stop that. Thirteen hours ago, when things were completely unraveling and my rage was through the roof, I was not angry about the price of gasoline, nor about the war that is the cause of it. I was just having a terrible day. Everything was falling – out of my hands, out of my pockets, and when I put my prepared shake down as we got into the car, that fell too. Nothing was going right, and I could not keep a handle on my emotions. I started screaming and swearing and screaming and swearing some more.

    I Remembered that five years ago I spilled some of a shake in my car, and I paid the price for not cleaning it up right away. Until the day I sold the car, the stained leather was a daily reminder that I had not cleaned it up. I had nothing in the car to wipe up the mess. Despite the anger and rage that was coursing through my veins, I decided to leave Princess Sophie in the car for a few minutes, and I went up to the apartment to get a roll of paper towels. I came back down and cleaned as best I could. I think I did a pretty good job of it. It didn’t matter, my emotions were morphing from rage to distraught sadness.

    I called Leslie, but I knew that she was busy with her son and was not surprised that she did not answer the phone. I doubt it would have mattered. The message I left for her was that I was going to Wendy’s, I was ordering a hamburger and a large non-diet soda. I was not dieting today. I do not think there is anything she or anyone could have said to talk me down from that. I pulled into the drive-through lane and ordered the single hamburger with no cheese, French fries, and I decided to stick to the sugar-free soda. Even knowing that the soda would not be my worst transgression of the day, I still opted for the diet.

    As I pulled out of their parking lot I reached into the bag, only to discover they had given me a cheeseburger without any of the other toppings. I might not be respecting my diet today, but I am sticking to my religion. I turned around and went back.

    I do not think the brainless idiot at Wendy’s realizes his good fortune. To give him the benefit of the doubt, he might have a brain, and might have just been too stoned to understand what I was saying. I am not talking about the original mistake – mistakes will happen, and I get that. The three-minute conversation I had to endure with this 18-24 kid was maddening, and the fact that I did not rip his head off is a testament to my something. I am not sure how difficult it is to understand ‘I ordered a burger with no cheese but all the regular toppings, you gave me a burger with cheese and no other toppings. This entire three-minute conversation took place as he held the hamburger I had handed to him in his hand. It was only after that conversation, and after he went to clarify something with his manager, that he came back and tried to hand the burger back to me. ‘I’m not allowed to take this back.’ Then throw it out. I am not sure what I would have said had he told me that he could not even do that. The old me, in the already highly agitated state I was in, would have been a lot louder, less calm, and most likely insulting. A small miracle indeed… and seven minutes after this conversation started again, I drove away with the right sandwich.

    The fast food was not the only nor was it likely the worst cheat of the day. I will not enumerate what the others were, but I was bad. There were a lot of chips, there was spaghetti, there was birthday cake. Saturday was a complete and utter failure.

    I did not harm anyone. I did not even lash out at anyone. I am not sure how I managed it, but while I told a couple of people that I was having a crappy day, nobody suffered from it. Nobody, of course, but me. I am sure Leslie suffered as well – she is very empathetic, and when I am not doing well, she feels my pain.

    Speaking of pain, let’s add a bad left knee to the list. I have no idea how, but it feels like there is a bruise. I have no recollection of smashing it, but there it is. However painful the gout in my foot might be, today it was muted by my knee’s phantom injury. When I say the gout pain is muted, I should really refer to it as immensely overshadowed by a different pain. I am seeing my doctor on Wednesday and am definitely going to speak with him about the gout. I expect my knee will be fine by then. However, I have been complaining about the gout since Wednesday, and taking Naproxen and pain killers since then. While it might eventually clear it up, it is certainly taking its time. Time to bring in the big guns.

    I am going to sleep. Tomorrow (later today) better be a better day.