I'm not much of a movie person, but every now and then the mood will hit me. I'm a bit played out with Skyrim, and I won't be playing Halo until later this evening. So, today was the perfect time to throw a movie on. I watched Troll 2 a couple times this weekend already. I love a good cult classic. But today I was in the mood for something more serious. Something that would be thought provoking. The description for Leaving Las Vegas immediately jumped out at me. A story about a self-destructive man who finds an angel. Well, I never realized just how much I would relate to this movie. So much that it has inspired me to write this and fill everyone in on what is actually going on with me and my quest for gastric bypass surgery.
As most of you know, the best case scenario for my date with the surgeon was supposed to be some time in October. That was if the insurance company accepted my case immediately after my six months of monthly doctor visits, psych, and nutritional eval. The more likely time would probably have been november/december to have my first visit with the surgeon. Either way, I was looking so forward to this surgery when I found out this spring that I was covered. I thought things would go so smooth. Just one thing after the other. boom boom boom. I was wrong. I now completely understand why insurance companies require so much time for preparation. The truth is somehow and for some reason, I just can't get myself to fully commit.
The last time I saw a doctor was september. This was the month that I knew I had to get my psych evaluation. That was when things started going downhill. I just quit. I have absolutely no reason or understanding why, but something in my subconscious decided that change and working hard was just out of the question and I should continue to live this life. Regardless of how much I hate myself, how inconvenient things are being this way, SOMETHING is keeping me content. I have no fucking clue for the life of me why, but goddamnit, I've had enough of the bullshit! It's time I find out what the fuck is going on inside my head. See, right there. that is a perfect example of the inner struggle I deal with daily. It's a beautiful love/hate relationship that I have with myself. A few months will go by and I'll be on the love side of the fence. I'll work at something I want to achieve. I'll have daydreams and visions of a nice future and work towards that. Then I'll spend the next few months completely not giving a fuck. No noticeable trigger that I can think of. Just out of the blue I will say fuck it. Then I feel guilty about it. I'll sit here and eventually wallow in all my guilt and doubts. Everything I have ever done that I am ashamed of will be right in front of my mind. I will dwell on every single failure. This gets me to the point that I just don't care. Because eating and playing video games temporarily shuts these feelings off for a little while each night. For some reason, it creates just enough of a balance to where I can function daily.
Then I hear things like Patrice Oneal's death or watch movies like Leaving Las Vegas, and it's like a giant smack in the face. What the fuck am I doing?!? I should be learning from other people's mistakes. Son of a bitch! I've had the "talk" with many loved ones NUMEROUS times about getting my shit together. Getting with the fucking program and actually doing something on this fucking planet that is not self-destructive. I've had patients with weight problems that died young. I even watched them fucking die. Been there with the family crying for their loved one. You would think that after all this that something somehow would eventually stick in my shitty head to change my destructive behavior. But nope. I just go on being a complete dumbass who is content being 35, over 500 pounds, living with his father, and basically does nothing but try too hard to be funny on Facebook and play xbox all day long.
I've been doing some thinking friends. I obviously have some major, deep-seated issues that I have to deal with. I mean, you don't just get to 500 pounds and continue to eat and smoke without a care in the world unless there is some hardcore subconscious damage. I need to know why I continue to behave like I'm satisfied and content when the conscious part of me begs for something different. I crave living a healthier life. I can't describe to you how much I despise myself. How much I loathe what I have become. But regardless of how much I want to live better, I just can never fully commit to actually doing it. Like Nicolas Cage in the movie, I need to find my angel. I don't just mean a nice woman who will accept me through all this bullshit. (Women come and go. Most likely more will come as long as I'm thinner. Just human nature.) What I mean by MY angel is I have to find that certain something that makes me feel like I have a reason to live. That hurts just writing this. To finally realize that there is nothing or nobody in this world that makes me feel like I want to be a better person. That can't be true. I have the best group of friends anyone could ask for. I am so blessed to have them. My family is small, but we are are tight-knit. It has nothing to do with any of those fine people. I need to figure out why I feel this way, and what I can do to get myself to think differently.
So, after more thinking, I feel that one of the best things I think could happen for my mental health is to go to a facility for about a month or two. I can initially work on nicotine and caffeine detox, and then get treatment and psych sessions regularly. Basically what I think I need is rehab. But here's the catch. I'm not psychotic. I don't hear voices, have hallucinations, or harm others. Also, I'm fairly sure that you have to be hooked on more than just food and nicotine to go to rehab. Alcohol or hard drugs. Something like that. This is my knowledge so far. I am gonna have a heart to heart with dad and my doctor tomorrow to see if I'm overreacting, or if there are certain avenues like this that I can take. All I know is that I am sick and tired of the rollercoaster. I'm tired of the love/hate thing I have going on. I'm tired of being this way. Some of you may consider this a huge setback in my surgery progress, but I'm actually glad this happened. I would MUCH rather be dealing with this now than after having staples in my stomach. Thanks for your time. I hope you don't think I'm too crazy and you'll still want to talk to me.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
A Modest Proposal
Let me ask you something. What pops into your head when you see this posted anywhere: f**k
You think of the word fuck. So, if the censored version of the word conjures up the same thing as the word itself, then why bother censoring at all? It drives me insane when I see any censored version of a "curse" word. It just seems silly to me. People are obviously typing them to be politically correct. You can't tell me that there are people out there that think "Phew. Thank God they typed that word as sh*t instead of shit! I would have been offended beyond all comprehension had they put the "i" in there." 99% of the population doesn't care if they see a curse word posted anywhere. If they are upset, it's only because they don't want their kids seeing it. Which is a silly notion to me anyway because the kids are just gonna grow up to swear as well. It's all nonsense.
Profanity.
a show of disrespect, or a desecration or debasement of someone or something.
In my opinion, profanity will always exist in humanity. As long as we are around, some people will not like your opinion on certain things. Nobody can really help that. What I want to see is the idea of curse words disappear. Add the words fuck, shit, etc. to everyday language. Well, they already are regular language to most people. I mean make it socially acceptable to appear anywhere. It's not the words themselves that offend. The use of these words for a few more generations would still most likely be "frowned upon." That's quite alright. But I'm tired of all the phony bullshit about cursing. Using curse words does not make you a bad person. You could say a sentence to someone laced with curses, and they won't care. You can also say a sentence to that same person with no curse words at all which will hurt them deeply and effect their lives. I believe that now is the time to completely dissolve the idea of the curse word. Profanity will always be around. There's nothing we can do to control human nature. But we can control this silly social etiquette that is quite frankly a waste of energy.
You think of the word fuck. So, if the censored version of the word conjures up the same thing as the word itself, then why bother censoring at all? It drives me insane when I see any censored version of a "curse" word. It just seems silly to me. People are obviously typing them to be politically correct. You can't tell me that there are people out there that think "Phew. Thank God they typed that word as sh*t instead of shit! I would have been offended beyond all comprehension had they put the "i" in there." 99% of the population doesn't care if they see a curse word posted anywhere. If they are upset, it's only because they don't want their kids seeing it. Which is a silly notion to me anyway because the kids are just gonna grow up to swear as well. It's all nonsense.
Profanity.
a show of disrespect, or a desecration or debasement of someone or something.
In my opinion, profanity will always exist in humanity. As long as we are around, some people will not like your opinion on certain things. Nobody can really help that. What I want to see is the idea of curse words disappear. Add the words fuck, shit, etc. to everyday language. Well, they already are regular language to most people. I mean make it socially acceptable to appear anywhere. It's not the words themselves that offend. The use of these words for a few more generations would still most likely be "frowned upon." That's quite alright. But I'm tired of all the phony bullshit about cursing. Using curse words does not make you a bad person. You could say a sentence to someone laced with curses, and they won't care. You can also say a sentence to that same person with no curse words at all which will hurt them deeply and effect their lives. I believe that now is the time to completely dissolve the idea of the curse word. Profanity will always be around. There's nothing we can do to control human nature. But we can control this silly social etiquette that is quite frankly a waste of energy.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
My View On Sports
Some of my earliest memories consist of going to the ballgame with my dad. When I think about it, sports have always been a major part of my life. There was almost always a baseball game on TV in the summer. The fall and winter brought football. It was early in life that I learned to love my favorite teams. As I get older, I am noticing that my hobbies and past times are changing. I am much more into reading than I ever was. I also love games more than I ever have before. Not just video games. Board games, card games like Magic the Gathering. So, sports have been slowly becoming less and less a part of my life. Finding out a horrible truth about a football program I loved dearly has been making me think hard the past few days about sports and how they effect my life.
I was born to love Penn State. I remember seeing how fired up my dad would get at Joe Paterno about this call or that play. My dad's been a die-hard fan since the early 70's. I too have learned to love the program. The undefeated season with Kerry Collins and Ki-Jana Carter cemented my love for the team. Hell, I even got the Penn State logo tattooed on my right leg in 2000 to show support for them during their four year rough patch. (In my defense, I just really wanted a tattoo at the time. But, I wasn't creative whatsoever when it came to ideas for what I wanted. I thought why not Penn State.) Finding out that child abuse was swept under the rug was a complete and total shock. There are many Penn State fans who brag ad nauseum about the integrity of the school. Too the point it makes me sick quite frankly. I was never that kind of fan. I loved Penn State football, but I'm a firm believer that every single person, family, and major business all have their demons and skeletons in the closet. If you investigated everyone on Earth, you would find something horrible. But despite that belief, it felt like a punch in the face to find out the football program I love was involved in this scandal. It felt more like a kick in the balls to find out that Paterno and McQuery could have done more. McQuery is a flat out pussy. To not stop someone in the act of abusing a 10 year old child is awful. I feel bad for Paterno. He did go to the athletic director about the news. Yes, he legally did what he was supposed to. But I would have thought the he'd at least check up on things, see that nothing was being done, and taken a little more action. I gotta say that I'm disappointed. The only thing I have to say is that who knows what the real reason was. We all would like to think that we'd immediately play the hero in that situation. But sit and truly think hard about the situation. One of your assistants came to you and told you they saw child abuse. This person happens to be a friend and co-worker of over three decades. He's a man you love and admire. Do you honestly think you'd be able to jump immediately in your car, and report what you heard to authorities? Honestly? I would be crushed and devastated. I honestly don't know what I would do in that situation. I hope to hell I never get put into a situation like that. And before you scream and yell at me, I'm NOT defending Paterno in any way. I'm simply just stating that everyone always says that they would have immediately done the absolute right and moral thing every time in these situations. But I believe that some of those same people who are quick to judge and call for people's heads might act a totally different way if a situation and problem of this magnitude was actually dropped on them. Just my opinion.
So. Where do I go from here as a sports fan? I certainly know that college football is now dead to me. I will never be able to enjoy it anymore simply because the team I loved will forever have this black eye. It will never be the same, so I think the best thing is to just put that part of my life behind me. The more I think about things, how do sports benefit me anyway? For years I have loved, hated, felt joy, cried, etc. over sports teams and outcomes of games. So much emotion over the years was invested, but what do I have to show for it? What, I get to tell people that in 2005 and 2008, my favorite collection of paid athletes beat another person's favorite collection of paid athletes in the game that matters the most? Big fucking deal! Seeing the Steelers win two Super Bowls was nice. How does that benefit me though? It doesn't. I'm learning that sports is about as pointless as politics. One side will kick and scream at the other side about why their team/party is better than yours. They'll berate you, swear at you, call death threats and all kinds of shit. But in the end, you're fighting over nothing you can really control. On top of that, you're fighting over something that will not make you richer or smarter. Being a die-hard sports fan just means that you will fight for the reason to brag at other sports fans. Basically you're fighting for the right to be an asshole. I don't want to be a part of that world anymore.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Back and Rambling Better Than Ever!
Good afternoon everyone. It's been a while. Sit back, relax a few minutes, and I'll tell you what I've been up to.
I'm currently reading Life by Keith Richards. So far it's quite an interesting story. There's just something about reading people's memoirs that fascinates me. On the outside, we all appear completely different. So many times you'll hear people say that we are all unique in our own little way. And yes, to a certain extent that's true. What I enjoy focusing on is how much we are all alike when it comes to human nature. Everybody has a story. Everybody feels they did the best they could whether you ask a successful doctor or a murdering drug lord. I love learning about how much humans have advanced in the past 500 years while also seeing how some things never seem to change. If you grab a time machine and pluck someone from 1500 Italy in our world, they will without a doubt be unable to process the changes that have taken place. But on the other end, there are so many things you would still be able to relate with him about. Music, art, love, pain, and life. This has become my new infatuation when it comes to learning. I want to read many more books about people's lives and philosophy. It just feels like something I'm supposed to do.
As you know, I've had sort of a coming out a couple months ago with my writing. I never dreamed there would be people telling me they love my style and how they look forward to reading more from me. It was fantastic. I thank the few of you who do take the time to read about my strange little life. The reason I stopped for a while is because, as usual, I took something I wanted to do and went overboard. I seen the positive feedback and decided it was time to brush up on skills. I got a few books about grammar and writing. I thought for sure it would be a big help. I was wrong. I started to edit my stuff way too much. It got to the point where it was more counter-productive than anything. This frustrated me, which then discouraged me. I said fuck it for a while. This is why I was relieved to run into good old Keith Richards. He wrote the book himself. The grammar sucks. It reads just like the man was talking to you. So many people told me that's what it's like when they read my blog. Why should I give two shits if my stuff is written properly? I don't get paid for this. Sure, I inspire to be a published author, but you don't learn the craft overnight. I decided it was time to just be myself and not care about the details. It's the way a story is told that makes a good writer. I say fuck grammar and the English language.
There was something else I wanted to mention......oh yeah, the whole weight-loss thing. I lost 8 pounds in May. The surgeon needs just enough proof that I have the ability to focus and lose weight. So far, I'm doing a good job. Well, alright, except maybe the last two weeks. I can't lie to you. It's been nothing but pizzas and chips and candy. I'm not completely worried because I am already getting tired of it. Also, the fact that my tooth is killing me, yet again, helps curb my appetite.
So that's about it in a nutshell. Been reading quite a bit, listening to the blues, and Facebook gaming. Oh yeah, my girl got me into Empires and Allies which turned into also playing Farmville and Zuma Blitz. I avoided these games for a while now because I used to be a gaming snob. We looked down on these over-simplified ways of gaming. The truth is, I'm too old for that shit anymore. I learned to hate hipster-type people when it comes to entertainment. Only cool people drink this kind of beer, or listen to this certain type of rare music, or blah blah blah.... Fuck that shit. How 'bout you don't worry about what I like to do, and I won't give a turkey about what you like to do. If we have a common interest in something, fine. Does that seem fair? I don't know why I spent so many years focused on finding people who had the same common interests as me. Sure, it's nice when you can bond about things. I already surrounded myself around amazing people. That's a blessing in itself. Alright, I'm rambling. I better get going. I promised Antonio de Firenze a special trip. He's absolutely clueless about this strange flat box I keep tapping. I told him not to worry. I can take you somewhere that anyone from any time period would enjoy. First, we have to stop at the bank to get a few hundred dollars worth of ones......
I'm currently reading Life by Keith Richards. So far it's quite an interesting story. There's just something about reading people's memoirs that fascinates me. On the outside, we all appear completely different. So many times you'll hear people say that we are all unique in our own little way. And yes, to a certain extent that's true. What I enjoy focusing on is how much we are all alike when it comes to human nature. Everybody has a story. Everybody feels they did the best they could whether you ask a successful doctor or a murdering drug lord. I love learning about how much humans have advanced in the past 500 years while also seeing how some things never seem to change. If you grab a time machine and pluck someone from 1500 Italy in our world, they will without a doubt be unable to process the changes that have taken place. But on the other end, there are so many things you would still be able to relate with him about. Music, art, love, pain, and life. This has become my new infatuation when it comes to learning. I want to read many more books about people's lives and philosophy. It just feels like something I'm supposed to do.
As you know, I've had sort of a coming out a couple months ago with my writing. I never dreamed there would be people telling me they love my style and how they look forward to reading more from me. It was fantastic. I thank the few of you who do take the time to read about my strange little life. The reason I stopped for a while is because, as usual, I took something I wanted to do and went overboard. I seen the positive feedback and decided it was time to brush up on skills. I got a few books about grammar and writing. I thought for sure it would be a big help. I was wrong. I started to edit my stuff way too much. It got to the point where it was more counter-productive than anything. This frustrated me, which then discouraged me. I said fuck it for a while. This is why I was relieved to run into good old Keith Richards. He wrote the book himself. The grammar sucks. It reads just like the man was talking to you. So many people told me that's what it's like when they read my blog. Why should I give two shits if my stuff is written properly? I don't get paid for this. Sure, I inspire to be a published author, but you don't learn the craft overnight. I decided it was time to just be myself and not care about the details. It's the way a story is told that makes a good writer. I say fuck grammar and the English language.
There was something else I wanted to mention......oh yeah, the whole weight-loss thing. I lost 8 pounds in May. The surgeon needs just enough proof that I have the ability to focus and lose weight. So far, I'm doing a good job. Well, alright, except maybe the last two weeks. I can't lie to you. It's been nothing but pizzas and chips and candy. I'm not completely worried because I am already getting tired of it. Also, the fact that my tooth is killing me, yet again, helps curb my appetite.
So that's about it in a nutshell. Been reading quite a bit, listening to the blues, and Facebook gaming. Oh yeah, my girl got me into Empires and Allies which turned into also playing Farmville and Zuma Blitz. I avoided these games for a while now because I used to be a gaming snob. We looked down on these over-simplified ways of gaming. The truth is, I'm too old for that shit anymore. I learned to hate hipster-type people when it comes to entertainment. Only cool people drink this kind of beer, or listen to this certain type of rare music, or blah blah blah.... Fuck that shit. How 'bout you don't worry about what I like to do, and I won't give a turkey about what you like to do. If we have a common interest in something, fine. Does that seem fair? I don't know why I spent so many years focused on finding people who had the same common interests as me. Sure, it's nice when you can bond about things. I already surrounded myself around amazing people. That's a blessing in itself. Alright, I'm rambling. I better get going. I promised Antonio de Firenze a special trip. He's absolutely clueless about this strange flat box I keep tapping. I told him not to worry. I can take you somewhere that anyone from any time period would enjoy. First, we have to stop at the bank to get a few hundred dollars worth of ones......
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye
I can hardly believe it's been three weeks since my last post. There really hasn't been much going on when it comes to progress for the surgery. For the next few months, I have to go through the motions to please the insurance company. Not so exciting. Now, when it comes to my warped brain chemistry, May felt like a month of transition for me. I needed these past few weeks to kind of stop, take a step back, and analyze what exactly I want out of myself creatively. I believe that I have myself on the right track again. I remain hopeful that I will stick to my decision and not become bored and change my mind yet again. Have I mentioned insane brain chemistry?
Writing is something I dreamed of for years. The problem is I always hold myself back. I don't have a real high self-image, and that translates into thinking everything I create is garbage. Last month I held these thoughts back just enough to start writing this blog. The feedback blew me away. Now, I had high hopes and visions of this blog being filled with witty stories about the daily struggles of being so big. I was confident that I had many months worth of content to keep me busy. I was wrong. Here's what really happened: In just eight posts, I feel like I expressed everything I wanted to get off my chest. I've been tired of not publicly admitting my virginity. I'm sure more people already kind of knew. Either way, it was time to finally get it out there. I wanted to express the typical public outing. I feel I did a decent job nailing it with the Wal-Mart story. I also had the idea of writing stories about various events in my past that I would have enjoyed if it weren't for being big. But the more I brainstorm, the more I realize the exact same factors are the culprit of my ruined fun. It always comes back to not being able to walk far and losing my breath. How incredibly boring for people to read different scenarios that all end fairly the same way. After all, I'm not a television sitcom writer. I expect more from myself.
I want to write short stories. It's my dream. I feel that it's time to actually put forth the effort into making this dream a reality. I wiped the slate clean and started with two basic fundamentals to writing well. I've been reading and writing much more. I also took a break from my favorite radio shows and Twitter. Those two things have the power to suck me in with nothing ever being done. So far, I haven't even worked on anything solid. I'm journaling with the goal of writing comfortably to the point my subconscious takes over. This is where all good stories come from. Writing is still something I'm a bit awkward at doing. I stop too often to think if this sentence is working with the last, or which word would best fit here, etc. Hopefully I can get to the point where I can let loose and worry about revision afterwords. I had that luxury many years ago when I used to write in my notebook. I haven't quite mastered writing with the laptop.
So, to the few people in my life that kept up with this blog, I thank you. All of your feedback convinced me that this is a hobby worth putting in serious time and effort. I'm not quite sure I'm going to continue with the chronicles. Exactly 100% of my readers come from Facebook. I believe I can use that medium to keep people up to date on my transition from Jabba the Hut to Johnny Depp. Once I get a couple short stories hammered out, maybe I'll start a new blog for them. The first one will be dedicated to Ms. Galloway. She gave me my first new idea in years. And no Melanie, it's NOT dirty-minded for once!
Writing is something I dreamed of for years. The problem is I always hold myself back. I don't have a real high self-image, and that translates into thinking everything I create is garbage. Last month I held these thoughts back just enough to start writing this blog. The feedback blew me away. Now, I had high hopes and visions of this blog being filled with witty stories about the daily struggles of being so big. I was confident that I had many months worth of content to keep me busy. I was wrong. Here's what really happened: In just eight posts, I feel like I expressed everything I wanted to get off my chest. I've been tired of not publicly admitting my virginity. I'm sure more people already kind of knew. Either way, it was time to finally get it out there. I wanted to express the typical public outing. I feel I did a decent job nailing it with the Wal-Mart story. I also had the idea of writing stories about various events in my past that I would have enjoyed if it weren't for being big. But the more I brainstorm, the more I realize the exact same factors are the culprit of my ruined fun. It always comes back to not being able to walk far and losing my breath. How incredibly boring for people to read different scenarios that all end fairly the same way. After all, I'm not a television sitcom writer. I expect more from myself.
I want to write short stories. It's my dream. I feel that it's time to actually put forth the effort into making this dream a reality. I wiped the slate clean and started with two basic fundamentals to writing well. I've been reading and writing much more. I also took a break from my favorite radio shows and Twitter. Those two things have the power to suck me in with nothing ever being done. So far, I haven't even worked on anything solid. I'm journaling with the goal of writing comfortably to the point my subconscious takes over. This is where all good stories come from. Writing is still something I'm a bit awkward at doing. I stop too often to think if this sentence is working with the last, or which word would best fit here, etc. Hopefully I can get to the point where I can let loose and worry about revision afterwords. I had that luxury many years ago when I used to write in my notebook. I haven't quite mastered writing with the laptop.
So, to the few people in my life that kept up with this blog, I thank you. All of your feedback convinced me that this is a hobby worth putting in serious time and effort. I'm not quite sure I'm going to continue with the chronicles. Exactly 100% of my readers come from Facebook. I believe I can use that medium to keep people up to date on my transition from Jabba the Hut to Johnny Depp. Once I get a couple short stories hammered out, maybe I'll start a new blog for them. The first one will be dedicated to Ms. Galloway. She gave me my first new idea in years. And no Melanie, it's NOT dirty-minded for once!
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Unexpected Inspiration
Today, I sobbed uncontrollably for the first time in three years. While discussing dinner plans with Dad, I noticed Oprah on TV talking about weight-loss success stories. A woman named Stacey Halprin was back for an update of her 25-year struggle with obesity. The footage from her first interview resembled my current situation. She is the first person I truly identify with. Friends, I found a role model for my experience. Here is today's article from Oprah.com:
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On the very first season of The Oprah Show, 25-year-old Stacey Halprin wrote Oprah a heartbreaking letter about her struggle with weight. At 550 pounds, Stacey's life was both difficult and dangerous—she couldn't even sleep without being propped up on six pillows because she would choke if she lay flat.
For several years, Stacey bravely allowed Oprah Show cameras to follow her struggle and gave the world an eye-opening glimpse into the life of a morbidly obese person. Viewers saw her order enough fast food to feed several people, hide out in her dark bedroom to avoid going out in public and experience cruel comments and jokes from strangers on the street, all while battling extreme sadness, depression and despair.
"You were brave enough, courageous enough and open enough to let us film you at a time when nobody actually brought this out in the open," Oprah says. "Thank you for that."
After years of hardship and pain, Stacey made the difficult decision to get gastric bypass surgery, once again allowing cameras to follow her journey of reconstruction and recovery.
Today, Stacey returns in her final Oprah Show appearance to update the audience on the recent struggles and triumphs that were sparked by sending in her candid letter nearly 25 years ago.
When Stacey looks back at her public weight loss battle, she has a difficult time watching and reliving the painful struggles. "It's just very painful because I lived that life, and it's so wonderful to know that it isn't my life anymore," she says. "Even though I did put weight back on."
Stacey says that, even while sitting in the greenroom just before walking out onstage, she didn't feel worthy of returning for another show. "I didn't feel like I deserved to come," she says. "[But] I don't want to hide anymore."
To date, Stacey says she has lost 360 pounds. At first, she says she was eager to appear on The Oprah Show once her weight loss struggles came to an end, but now she realizes that her journey will always continue. "I wanted to come here and be at the finish line," she explains. "I know there are no finish lines. It's an ongoing process."
Hundreds of pounds lighter and much healthier, Stacey says she is just thrilled being able to live a normal life and do simple things such as flying on a plane without worrying about fitting in the seat or using a special seatbelt extension.
That's not the only thing Stacey has to be excited about: She's also in love!
"I started dating for the first time in 2004, and I was horrible at it," Stacey says. "A year ago, I said, 'I'm done. ... This just isn't my calling to be in love.' And two weeks later, I met the man of my dreams whom I'm going to spend my life with."
As for losing more weight, Stacey says she is happy having lost 360 pounds and isn't necessarily desperate to be a much smaller size. " People were pushing me [to lose more weight]. 'Keep going.' But I felt you know when you're where you're going to be," she says. "Don't listen to people. It doesn't mean everyone has to weigh 130."
"Look at what your body is supposed to be. It's about what your body is supposed to be," Oprah says. "Thank you for sharing your life with us all these years."
"Thank you for giving me my life," Stacey says.
The Oprah Winfrey Show. (May 10, 2011). Weight Loss Finale: Stacey Halprin Update.
http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/Weight-Loss-Finale-Stacey-Halprin-Update/1
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I understand her situation except for pillows to sleep and being a woman. What stood out for me was when she said, "I started dating for the first time in 2004, and I was horrible at it." I felt bad for her while also feeling relieved. After five long years, I found a great girl. I thought dating was easy enough to swing right back into things. I was sadly mistaken. I've been awkward at times. I forgot how my role in a relationship works. I lost my mojo, much like Austin Powers, and regressed to a fifteen-year-old boy learning how to love. She is a saint for being tolerant with me. I look forward to rewarding her for patience.
I'm thrilled to have a living model of inspiration. Striving for a normal life is great motivation, but it's comforting to see another person overcome their own struggle. It felt good to cry today. I've been holding back for years. With the surgery, writing, and relationship, my life has been turned inside-out. I suppose, in these moments, emotions can get the best of us.
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On the very first season of The Oprah Show, 25-year-old Stacey Halprin wrote Oprah a heartbreaking letter about her struggle with weight. At 550 pounds, Stacey's life was both difficult and dangerous—she couldn't even sleep without being propped up on six pillows because she would choke if she lay flat.
For several years, Stacey bravely allowed Oprah Show cameras to follow her struggle and gave the world an eye-opening glimpse into the life of a morbidly obese person. Viewers saw her order enough fast food to feed several people, hide out in her dark bedroom to avoid going out in public and experience cruel comments and jokes from strangers on the street, all while battling extreme sadness, depression and despair.
"You were brave enough, courageous enough and open enough to let us film you at a time when nobody actually brought this out in the open," Oprah says. "Thank you for that."
After years of hardship and pain, Stacey made the difficult decision to get gastric bypass surgery, once again allowing cameras to follow her journey of reconstruction and recovery.
Today, Stacey returns in her final Oprah Show appearance to update the audience on the recent struggles and triumphs that were sparked by sending in her candid letter nearly 25 years ago.
When Stacey looks back at her public weight loss battle, she has a difficult time watching and reliving the painful struggles. "It's just very painful because I lived that life, and it's so wonderful to know that it isn't my life anymore," she says. "Even though I did put weight back on."
Stacey says that, even while sitting in the greenroom just before walking out onstage, she didn't feel worthy of returning for another show. "I didn't feel like I deserved to come," she says. "[But] I don't want to hide anymore."
To date, Stacey says she has lost 360 pounds. At first, she says she was eager to appear on The Oprah Show once her weight loss struggles came to an end, but now she realizes that her journey will always continue. "I wanted to come here and be at the finish line," she explains. "I know there are no finish lines. It's an ongoing process."
Hundreds of pounds lighter and much healthier, Stacey says she is just thrilled being able to live a normal life and do simple things such as flying on a plane without worrying about fitting in the seat or using a special seatbelt extension.
That's not the only thing Stacey has to be excited about: She's also in love!
"I started dating for the first time in 2004, and I was horrible at it," Stacey says. "A year ago, I said, 'I'm done. ... This just isn't my calling to be in love.' And two weeks later, I met the man of my dreams whom I'm going to spend my life with."
As for losing more weight, Stacey says she is happy having lost 360 pounds and isn't necessarily desperate to be a much smaller size. " People were pushing me [to lose more weight]. 'Keep going.' But I felt you know when you're where you're going to be," she says. "Don't listen to people. It doesn't mean everyone has to weigh 130."
"Look at what your body is supposed to be. It's about what your body is supposed to be," Oprah says. "Thank you for sharing your life with us all these years."
"Thank you for giving me my life," Stacey says.
The Oprah Winfrey Show. (May 10, 2011). Weight Loss Finale: Stacey Halprin Update.
http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/Weight-Loss-Finale-Stacey-Halprin-Update/1
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I understand her situation except for pillows to sleep and being a woman. What stood out for me was when she said, "I started dating for the first time in 2004, and I was horrible at it." I felt bad for her while also feeling relieved. After five long years, I found a great girl. I thought dating was easy enough to swing right back into things. I was sadly mistaken. I've been awkward at times. I forgot how my role in a relationship works. I lost my mojo, much like Austin Powers, and regressed to a fifteen-year-old boy learning how to love. She is a saint for being tolerant with me. I look forward to rewarding her for patience.
I'm thrilled to have a living model of inspiration. Striving for a normal life is great motivation, but it's comforting to see another person overcome their own struggle. It felt good to cry today. I've been holding back for years. With the surgery, writing, and relationship, my life has been turned inside-out. I suppose, in these moments, emotions can get the best of us.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Thoughts on Mother's Day
(Hi friends! I want this entry to come straight from my heart to you. I'm not worried about structure or grammar today. Just sharing some thoughts about my mother who passed in July of 2008.)
For the past three days, I've been working on something to write for Mother's Day. It wasn't really that creative of an idea. A letter to my mother that I intended to be both loving and sort of a way to say that I have finally gotten over my anger issues with her. It turned out to be much more deep and personal than I was looking for on this blog. The relationship with my mother is something I still need to work on dealing with. It's a story that I definitely want to tell one day. In a nutshell, mom was a watered-down version of Danny Devito's mother in Throw Mama From the Train. That may sound like a stretch, but my family and closest friends can tell you there's some truth to that statement. But like everything else on Earth, there is both good and bad. I want to share with you some of the things about the woman that made her a fantastic mother.
"Jason. Some kids are gonna say awful things to you. You need to learn to ignore what they say and laugh with them. Let them know it doesn't bother you. Then it won't be fun for them to pick on you anymore. They'll all eventually see what a great kid you are, and wind up being your friend. And if not, then fuck 'em. They aren't worth your time." I remember getting this little pep talk twice. Once before 7th grade at Roosevelt Junior High in the Altoona Area School District. The other time was in 8th grade when we moved to Duncansville. I was scared to death about being thrown into a whole new group of kids in back to back years. Mom was right though. Kids said some awful shit. I took it all in stride. Before you know it, I was making myself the center of attention by doing the truffle shuffle or imitating Weird Al from the Fat video by doing the hilarious crotch grab. I learned something early in my life. People like you when you have the balls to be the first one to crack awful jokes about yourself before the other assholes get a chance. I'm 34, and that still applies to me today. If I'm in a situation where I'm around new people, I can always tell that my size is almost always the "elephant in the room." (literally!! hahaha. booo.) Once I crack a couple self-depricating jokes to break the ice, people realize that hey, this guy isn't so bad. Then people eventually get to know me, and I walk away with a new friend or two by the end of the night. But if they still don't like me, well, just like mom says, fuck 'em. They aren't worth my time.
Mom had an awesome sense of humor. I never really took notice until one night she dragged me to some kind of party with her work friends. Dude, she had people laughing so hard that they were crying! Of course they were all work related things, and I had no clue why any of it was funny. It was amazing to see that because it showed me where I got my sense of humor. Me, my stepdad, and mom were always busting on each other. Mom would always say, "the day I quit pickin' on ya is the day you know I don't love you anymore." I think this is how I got to be the way I am now. I love bustin' on my friends. It's my way of showing someone that I care about them. I don't know how mom put up with my dad for as long as she did. That man wouldn't understand good-natured joking if it busted through the door right now and used his face as a punching bag. Not just joking around either. I can say something to him that I know other people would find hilarious, but I won't get even a chuckle. Then he'll be watching Two and a Half men, and sure enough the 587th joke about how Charlie can't keep it in his pants will be muttered, and dad will laugh like he's watching Eddie Murphy's Raw. Annoys the hell out of me. I miss mom's sense of humor. I also miss her saying to be careful not to fall in the shower because she doesn't feel like calling a crane company today. haha. I miss her.
Mom also was a big help when it came to girls (despite none of them EVER being good enough for me. Ugh.) I remember all the times telling her I couldn't get a girl to ever like me. How so many of them wanted to be my friend, but nothing more. She'd always say, "Jason, they think they know what they want now, but they don't. Some day there's going to be a girl who sees you for who you are." Of course I thought it was just her saying that, but she was right. I've been lucky to have a few girls in my life who really cared for me, and loved me for who I am. I'd be shopping with mom, and she would say, "Jason, I think she would really like this. You should get it for her." She taught me that they like the occasional gift for no reason at all, and a card out of the blue. "Remembering the small details," mom always said, "are really important to make a girl happy. She would say, "I hate that tough guy shit. don't be afraid to be yourself, or to show your emotions. A real man is one who is always able to express himself no matter how good or bad." I took all this advice kinda loosely at that age, but the older I get, the more I realize how right she was. But one thing she didn't prepare me for was how some girls find guys that are sweet and nice to be absolutely boring. I'm still in the process of learning when to turn the sweet guy stuff off from time to time. I guess some things even your mother can't teach you.
So those are a couple of my favorite things about mom. She was a damn good woman. She would give you anything if you needed it. She loved me more than anyone else in this world ever will. She also had a rough life, and deep seeded anger that she needed help with. She took a lot of this out on me. I am finally learning to forgive her for some of those things. But she also helped make me the man I am today. For that, I'll never be able to fully express in words how much it means to me. Mom, I love you and I really miss you right now. May you finally have the peace you so greatly deserve.
For the past three days, I've been working on something to write for Mother's Day. It wasn't really that creative of an idea. A letter to my mother that I intended to be both loving and sort of a way to say that I have finally gotten over my anger issues with her. It turned out to be much more deep and personal than I was looking for on this blog. The relationship with my mother is something I still need to work on dealing with. It's a story that I definitely want to tell one day. In a nutshell, mom was a watered-down version of Danny Devito's mother in Throw Mama From the Train. That may sound like a stretch, but my family and closest friends can tell you there's some truth to that statement. But like everything else on Earth, there is both good and bad. I want to share with you some of the things about the woman that made her a fantastic mother.
"Jason. Some kids are gonna say awful things to you. You need to learn to ignore what they say and laugh with them. Let them know it doesn't bother you. Then it won't be fun for them to pick on you anymore. They'll all eventually see what a great kid you are, and wind up being your friend. And if not, then fuck 'em. They aren't worth your time." I remember getting this little pep talk twice. Once before 7th grade at Roosevelt Junior High in the Altoona Area School District. The other time was in 8th grade when we moved to Duncansville. I was scared to death about being thrown into a whole new group of kids in back to back years. Mom was right though. Kids said some awful shit. I took it all in stride. Before you know it, I was making myself the center of attention by doing the truffle shuffle or imitating Weird Al from the Fat video by doing the hilarious crotch grab. I learned something early in my life. People like you when you have the balls to be the first one to crack awful jokes about yourself before the other assholes get a chance. I'm 34, and that still applies to me today. If I'm in a situation where I'm around new people, I can always tell that my size is almost always the "elephant in the room." (literally!! hahaha. booo.) Once I crack a couple self-depricating jokes to break the ice, people realize that hey, this guy isn't so bad. Then people eventually get to know me, and I walk away with a new friend or two by the end of the night. But if they still don't like me, well, just like mom says, fuck 'em. They aren't worth my time.
Mom had an awesome sense of humor. I never really took notice until one night she dragged me to some kind of party with her work friends. Dude, she had people laughing so hard that they were crying! Of course they were all work related things, and I had no clue why any of it was funny. It was amazing to see that because it showed me where I got my sense of humor. Me, my stepdad, and mom were always busting on each other. Mom would always say, "the day I quit pickin' on ya is the day you know I don't love you anymore." I think this is how I got to be the way I am now. I love bustin' on my friends. It's my way of showing someone that I care about them. I don't know how mom put up with my dad for as long as she did. That man wouldn't understand good-natured joking if it busted through the door right now and used his face as a punching bag. Not just joking around either. I can say something to him that I know other people would find hilarious, but I won't get even a chuckle. Then he'll be watching Two and a Half men, and sure enough the 587th joke about how Charlie can't keep it in his pants will be muttered, and dad will laugh like he's watching Eddie Murphy's Raw. Annoys the hell out of me. I miss mom's sense of humor. I also miss her saying to be careful not to fall in the shower because she doesn't feel like calling a crane company today. haha. I miss her.
Mom also was a big help when it came to girls (despite none of them EVER being good enough for me. Ugh.) I remember all the times telling her I couldn't get a girl to ever like me. How so many of them wanted to be my friend, but nothing more. She'd always say, "Jason, they think they know what they want now, but they don't. Some day there's going to be a girl who sees you for who you are." Of course I thought it was just her saying that, but she was right. I've been lucky to have a few girls in my life who really cared for me, and loved me for who I am. I'd be shopping with mom, and she would say, "Jason, I think she would really like this. You should get it for her." She taught me that they like the occasional gift for no reason at all, and a card out of the blue. "Remembering the small details," mom always said, "are really important to make a girl happy. She would say, "I hate that tough guy shit. don't be afraid to be yourself, or to show your emotions. A real man is one who is always able to express himself no matter how good or bad." I took all this advice kinda loosely at that age, but the older I get, the more I realize how right she was. But one thing she didn't prepare me for was how some girls find guys that are sweet and nice to be absolutely boring. I'm still in the process of learning when to turn the sweet guy stuff off from time to time. I guess some things even your mother can't teach you.
So those are a couple of my favorite things about mom. She was a damn good woman. She would give you anything if you needed it. She loved me more than anyone else in this world ever will. She also had a rough life, and deep seeded anger that she needed help with. She took a lot of this out on me. I am finally learning to forgive her for some of those things. But she also helped make me the man I am today. For that, I'll never be able to fully express in words how much it means to me. Mom, I love you and I really miss you right now. May you finally have the peace you so greatly deserve.
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