Fat and Depressed Part Two: Electric Boogaloo

I actually wasn't always fat. In high school I was somewhat fit, even though at the time I thought I was fat. It's weird. Looking back I most certainly was in decent shape; not even just compared to now, like, in general I was in pretty decent shape. I was pretty good at basketball, and even after I quit the high school team I continued to play every day. Those should have been the good ol' days, but I was too busy worrying about my weight. I'm not sure what brought it on, I don't recall any of my friends telling me I was fat or anything like that. As far as I know it was all in my head. Instead of working out or talking to someone I got depressed and started eating.

Fast forward five years after graduation. I've put on quite a bit of weight but overall it's pretty manageable. Not in my head though. In my head I am morbidly obese. I get sad. I eat. Now five years after that and I actually am morbidly obese. I'm six feet and three inches tall, and I'm just over four hundred pounds as of a couple hours before writing this. I don't know why I'm writing this exactly. I don't know if I needed to declare to the world that I know I have a problem and I'm working on it, or if I need to remind myself that I will fight through this and lose the weight. I will get my brain in check and I will get my body in check. Both are valid I guess, and I probably need to do both for myself.

I'm not the same person I was five years ago, and definitely not the same as ten years ago. I'm more concerned with myself and far less concerned with myself through the eyes of others. I understand now that back in those days I was feeding myself and my mental issues. The way I felt then was in some way giving me permission to become as unhealthy as I have. Not anymore. When I looked at those scales earlier, scales that couldn't register my weight because they only go up to four hundred, scales that I knew would read close to that but probably just under, I almost went back in to it. I was immediately depressed. I wanted to slump in to the couch, feel sorry for myself, and play video games until I forgot.

I'm refusing to let this go. I will not slip further in to obesity. So far I've avoided any major medical problems associated with it but I know I've been lucky. I owe it not only to myself but to my loved ones to put a stop to it before it gets to that. I want to have kids sometime soon and I want to teach them how to play basketball, and I want to see them grow up, and live their lives. I want to be an inspiration to them not a cautionary tale. As I'm writing this I'm realizing that I haven't been myself for a long time. I haven't lived my life.

I know this is a little on the nose, but I'm just sort of doing a stream of conciousness type thing here. Normally I would write some cryptic poetry or something to illustrate how I'm feeling, but I want this to be out there. I want to speak it in to the universe. I am not giving up. I am not continuing this pattern. I don't care if anyone reads it, as long as it's out there. I will get healthy. Feel free to show me support it's much appreciated obviously, and if you want to be a dick and call me a fat ass or something you can do that too. I'll turn it in to fuel. If there's anyone reading this who is in a similar situation, or any situation, and needs some support feel free to contact me. I'm on Twitter @MarkLeasure10. We can build a community dedicated to getting healthier.