Dad's Have Power

I haven't written for  awhile.  Since before my weight loss surgery actually.  Maybe it's because I didn't have anything to say.  Maybe it's because I didn't want to say it.  At any rate...today!  Today, I have something to say (cue the excited applause).

Dad's have power.  I haven't always been as strong as I should have been.  Maybe I didn't get it. Maybe I have a disability.  Maybe it's just hard. But now that I know I have to be better because dad's have a ton of power.

We are all using my weight loss surgery to try to be more healthy, but it's not very fun.  We dont' want to exercise.  It's not fun.  Although, now that I'm going every day, guess who's going every day!  Everyone.  Mom, Dad, Son, Daughter.  When I lead out, the rest come.  It's not because I force them.  It's not because I'm yelling and screaming.  It's because I'm having the courage to do, and the rest come with.  I'm not really sure why.

All I know is dads have power.

Use it wisely.

The one thing that keeps you going in life is the thought that it always gets better.  But what if it doesn't get better?  What if every day is just painful? What if you survive longer, but surviving is merely surviving?  That's how it has felt the last two weeks.  I mean, what's the point of living if you're not really living?  That's why Hamlet wondered, "to be, or not to be?"

In the end the thought of what MIGHT happen is scarier and more painful than the thought of what IS happening.  And that's why we keep going.  I guess that's a bleak view of eternity.  In reality, I should probably keep fighting because I'm looking forward to what good can come.  But I'm just not there right now.  I'm simply trying to avoid something worse.

I saw a fat lady the other day that was probably twenty years older than me.  You could tell she was completely broken down.  Her ankles were massive and scaly. Probably due to years of diabetes. I'm pretty sure I don't want to be that.  But does it outway my desire to be content now?  I don't know.

Right now, I'm having a hard time picturing a happy time in the future if being healthy means feeling like this forever.  I hate it.

I'm realizing that not eating makes it really hard to have fun.  And if you can't have fun, where do you blow out all that pent up stress, depression, whatever?!

Today I thought, hey, let's go to the movie tonight.  Well, I can't have popcorn or soda so that won't be any fun.  Then I thought, I should call my friend Eric and see if he wants to go to lunch. I haven't seen him in forever.  Wait, I can't eat anything that restaurants serve.  At least not right now.  And if I could, I'd only be able to eat like two bites.  That's not fun.  Well, at least I can have some friends over to watch the football game tomorrow night.  Their first question, "What should we bring?"  Uhhhhh....nothing.  Well what kind of party is that?

So you see my dilemma: how to have fun without food.  I don't know right now.  But I'm sure I'll figure it out.

Well, we've started exercising.  It's hard.  Not that walking for 45 minutes itself seems that difficult.  Or that lifting weights for 30 minutes three times a week is really making life unbearable. It's the time commitment that is killing me.

It's not in my mindset to turn down a meeting to go for a walk.  But that's exactly what I have to do. I have to make walking my first priority.  It seems insane.  I'm afraid people will think I'm a loser because I turn down church work to go for a walk.

But honestly, I have to.  Obesity is killing me.  If I don't do this I'll probably die young.  I'm not sure if knowing that fact makes it any easier.

I enjoyed walking tonight.  I listened to conference talks for 45 minutes while I huffed and puffed on a treadmill.  It was quality time.  I felt the spirit and felt motivated to continue.  It's the right the to do.

We All Medicate

I've learned that we all medicate. Some more than others. I medicate constantly because I hate life.  And I don't hate it because there's anything wrong, or my life is terrible.  I hate it because I'm not happy.  I haven't been happy for years; in fact, I haven't been happy since I was about twelve.

Now,  you might think that sounds terrible, like I'm some kind of pathetic person who has no desire, or ambition, or loved ones.  Well that's not true.  I just have a problem.  A disorder.  I've realized that for some people happiness is easy.  They just live life happy.  "It's great to be alive," they say.  They get up every morning and wonder how someone could be down.

Well, welcome to the clinically disturbed.  My life is one constant struggle to want to be anything other than dead. I have to convince myself to go to sleep at night, knowing that if I go to sleep the morning will come.  I have to convince myself to get up, knowing that the day will bring more hurt and maybe even despair.  For about twenty-five years now I've been living with the feeling that two invisible hands are wrapped around my heart, crushing it.  My heart feels heavy most all the time, even when there's nothing to be sad about.

But! I no longer medicate by staying in bed for weeks at a time. I no longer hurt others just to feel that someone cares.  At least not most of the time. And I don't view the world through cold, angry eyes. I've gotten over that.  I realize I can't despair.  I can't quit.  And, I can't die.  

But it's work.  Every day it's work.  Painstaking, heart-aching work.  Thank goodness food has gotten me through.  Food has been my drug. Taken with the desire to feel this elusive thing called happiness that comes so easy to others.  I work for happiness, hating my disorder, and wait with an eye toward a day where it won't feel so hard just to live.  

Now, how to medicate myself without food?  That's the real challenge.