An unnamed somebody recently told me about addiction and the stages addicts go through in breaking their addiction. They will try, and fail, and fall down, and try, and fail, and fall down, and so on. Except every time they fall down, they don't fall down quite as far as the place they were before (mentally, at least), until they are able to get enough traction to break free.
Sometimes, the breaking free requires a major life event. In my case, it required somebody else's event.
One of my closest friends, to whom I owe a great emotional debt (and a greater one now), broke free from his own addiction a short time ago. Oh, he had help along the way, but (and he will deny this, perhaps) it was his own willpower and desire that gave him strength to succeed after years of trying.
And it is his strength and willpower that has given me the will to face my own addiction.
Most people who know me don't think I'm overweight. But I am. Most people don't realize that food is an addiction to me. But it is.
There are many reasons for this: the time that I broke my leg and was abandoned to my own devices and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups; the late nights at the office with food for company in my loneliness; the medication with food when I was sad when Stacy passed away; the social nature of lunches with coworkers and friends; the general thrill of being a "foodie". None of them are really important now.
I've tried to lose weight before. But it never worked. I'd lose a few pounds, gain a couple back, and then just give up when I cheated that first time because I was discouraged. That's happened three or four times a year.
But this time has been different. My friend has inspired me to break my own cycle of addiction.
On January 23, I was 250 lbs.
Saturday I was 224.
I don't know exactly why I'm posting this for all to see. Maybe it's because I'm proud that I've finally gained some traction. Maybe it's to make myself a bit more publicly accountable (although the cynic in you - and me - will point out that I only chose to do so after I'd already lost a bunch. Coward.). Maybe it's because the catharsis of doing so is a necessary part of the recovery process (Step 5 of AA, anyone?).
For the record, I considered doing a Silly Witch style post with naught but a title and before and after shots in my skivvies. But you really don't want to see that.