Awakening from my coma

One of the most notable changes recently in my thinner universe is that everything feels like a new experience, a very pleasant one at that.  In some ways I feel like I've awakened from a coma and now I'm experiencing the world again. 

I know it sounds "dramatic," as my trainer Flaminia ("Fla") often accuses me to be, but imagine what it'd be like to socially isolate yourself almost completely for more than a decade and suddenly you're starting to venture out and about with the rest of the world.  Not only that, you actually feel like you belong in it for the first time in all those years.  Even the simplest things that "normal" people take for granted, like meeting a friend for dinner or going to the mall to shop for make-up, can seem like a new experience after such a long self-imposed isolation.  Even driving in my car feels different, better.  Everything feels better. 

When I was younger, I was always going out and trying new things.  Whenever anyone invited me to anything/anywhere, my answer was always, "Sure!"  I regularly went to plays, the movies, dancing, parties, museums, the beach, amusement parks, fairs, to play racquetball or tennis, etc.  I tried skiing and water skiing once at some point, too.  I even dated periodically.  Although I never felt comfortable with my size no matter what I weighed at any particular time, it didn't really stop me from trying new things or going places.  For example, I wanted to learn how to scuba dive so I took lessons and got certified.  In my late 20s, I scuba dived in Florida and the Bahamas despite the fact that I felt like (and most likely looked like) a whale doing it.  At the time I weighed about 200 lbs.  But I did it and I had fun.  Often I had to force myself to go out or try new things because I was self-conscious about my size, but I ventured out even so.  Although my insecurities were always ever present, they were manageable because my weight had not yet gotten completely out of control.  Little did I know how big I'd eventually get! 

As my weight ballooned, pretty much all experiences began to be filed in the "I can't do that because I'm too fat" folder.  Not only did I hate how I looked, it was uncomfortable to be that big, and everything became a chore and painful because of my knee.  Just moving around became a painful drudgery.  Adding insult to injury, I was always tired and lethargic regardless of how much sleep I was getting.  I had no energy at all and I couldn't even remember what it felt like to have any.  With time, it was easier and safer to stay home.  When I use the word "safer," I don't mean that I felt my life was in jeopardy, I'm referring to my emotional health.  If I stayed home, nothing and no one could hurt my feelings and I didn't have to worry about feeling bad about myself thanks to my self-imposed insecurities either.

I don't remember exactly when I started to socially isolate myself, particularly because my weight fluctuated so often through the years, but it was gradual until it became almost complete.  It didn't help my situation either that several friends with whom I hung out moved out of state or just moved too far to see regularly.  I would guess my isolation began probably when I started getting close to 250 lbs. and without question it was complete by the time I reached 300 lbs. in my very early 40s where I remained for over a decade. 

As an only child, I'm used to being alone and, in fact, I prefer it most often; but when I was younger, I recognized the importance of socializing and getting out there.  Plus I wanted to go out, try new things, and have fun.  With time, however, as the numbers on the scale continued to climb, I started to turn down invitations until eventually people stopped inviting me.  It was actually a relief that I didn't have invitations to consider any more because I didn't have to worry about what to wear or feeling out of place.  Having to buy an outfit for a special function becomes a horrible ordeal for obese women.  On those occasions where I had to attend a function out of obligation, I dreaded it for days and days beforehand and, once there, I couldn't wait to leave and return to the safety and comfort of my own home - even my crappy little house was better than being out in the world.  Life becomes incredibly boring in social isolation, but it's just so much easier that way.  

When you get into a rut like this, weeks turn into months and then the years roll by and you stop worrying about it, and eventually you don't notice what you're giving up anymore, the isolation is just part of your current existence.  Now I realize that this is probably why I threw myself into my career to the point where it became all consuming:  because I had nothing else but work.  Eventually you convince yourself that you don't really want to go out because you're happier staying home.  In some ways that was true.

What's fascinating to me now is that I didn't realize how much I complicated my little universe for myself until I had lost considerable weight.  The social isolation was so gradual that by the time it was almost complete, I just accepted it as my life and I saw no different future.  I didn't think about it.  It just was.  I always suspected I had some clinical depression going on thanks to my weight issues and sometimes I thought of seeking professional help, but I never did anything about it.  Obesity causes depression which, in turn, worsens the obesity.  I think the two go hand in hand in a fatal combination.  The vicious cycle.

I see this isolation rut happening now with some of my friends as they've continued to gain more weight through the last few years.  They're doing exactly what I did:  they stop venturing out, they stop attending functions, they choose to stay home rather than try something new, they complain about having nothing to wear and not being able to find anything when they go shopping, and they put their all into work or a hobby.  As their weight balloons, it starts affecting their physical abilities (bad knees, back problems, etc.) and eventually their medical health, too (diabetes, high blood pressure, heart problems, etc.).  They don't look happy and they don't sound happy either.  I hear the general negativity when they speak about anything and everything.  Unhappiness, regardless of the cause, bleeds into every ounce of our existence. 

Luckily, that's not me any longer.  Even when I'm struggling or experiencing emotional instability, these days I'm generally happy and whatever negative emotions I feel, they're temporary.  The shroud of negativity doesn't consume me any more.  I'm a completely different person today than I used to be a mere three years ago, inside and out.  A friend told me yesterday that the change she's seen in me goes way beyond the smaller clothes.  She said that my whole persona has changed, not just that I look happy all the time, not only because I'm always smiling, but that I sound happy, too.  She said that even my speech has changed in the sense of what I talk about and how I view things in general now.  I feel much healthier spiritually as well as physically and that, too, bleeds into every ounce of my existence.

Just as my social isolation started slowly, my reintroduction to the world has been gradual, too.  I still have a long way to go and everything feels foreign to me, but it's getting easier to venture out.   It's difficult to put into words just what it's been like for me, but suffice it to say that it's been great and I'm enjoying my new "discoveries."   For example, after I lost considerable weight, I began to notice that I was no longer anxious when I received invitations or I had to go to new places or meet new people.  In fact, I became excited about venturing out.  I wanted to be seen.  If an event (whether lunch, dinner, or something else) was postponed or cancelled, I realized I no longer felt relief but rather disappointment.  This was a novel feeling to me.  Sometimes I forget that I've lost so much weight and for a split second I'm flooded with all the familiar anxieties and insecurities, but then I remember, "Oh, yeah.  I'm no longer huge, I'm just a bit overweight now.  I don't have to worry about finding clothes to wear or fitting places anymore or how I look.  It's okay now."
 

When you're morbidly obese, you give up.  Gaining weight takes no time and little effort, but losing even a fraction of that weight takes a lot of work and it takes forever.  The idea of losing all of it eventually just becomes too overwhelming and seems like an impossible feat. But I'm living proof that it can be done, regardless of your age or how long you've lived in obesity.  I faced having to lose 130 to 150 lbs. when I started this journey.  This, after more than 30 years of failing to keep off any weight I might have lost.  Talk about an impossible feat!  But you know what?  I did it.  It was hard, it was frustrating, I had setbacks along the way, but I never gave up and I succeeded.  

I wish I had a way to find the motivation for people who are battling weight issues because I want them to feel as excited and happy as I am today about life in general.  I want my friends to get out of the miserable rut and start experiencing happiness again.  Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do to find that motivation people need.  Each person has to be ready to commit to their particular journey and no one can do it for them.  I understand it because that was the old me.  No one could get me to lose weight no matter what they said, what they did, or how much they wished a better life for me.  I had to do it for myself.  I'm hoping the excitement I feel about my new life comes through my written words so that it inspires others to improve their lives, too.  Just remember that as you progress on your journey, your life will start improving slowly which in itself is motivating to continue.  Do it for yourself, do it for your family, do it to inspire others!