My name is Mark, and I am a compulsive overeater. Imagine a man who, at his peak,weighed in at over five hundred pounds. I could eat a nightly dinner of two large pasta entrees with breadsticks, drink two-liters of soda, and still have room for some larger than life coffee shop pastries. Eating too fast exacerbated my acid reflux, so I ate slowly,savoring every depressing bite. Although my weight has been a struggle most of my life,it evolved into compulsive overeating when I began driving. For the next ten years, theanonymity of the drive-thru was one of my primary enablers. Unlike girlfriends, or the acting jobs I lost because of my weight, or the fat-guy roles I won, food was always there. Eventually, due in part to my unhappiness with my weight, I left my steady acting career in New York. Food was my salvation when I was unable to make other choices, and I always felt it was a better choice than drinking or drugs. At parties in college, I would nurse the same beer for hours. As the parties ended, I would inevitably volunteer to drive those craving munchies to Taco Bell. They would order one burrito while I bought ten. It didn’t even matter that I may not have been hungry; it was simply an opportunity to eat. People have amazing instincts for creating self-fulfilling prophecies. After beginning my new career in Texas at my family’s manufacturing company, I became determined to conquer my weight problem. Counseling helped me chip away the layers of baggage I shouldered. I had been diagnosed with dyslexia in elementary school. During my counseling we began to recognize a pattern of behavior associated with Attention Deficit Disorder. For the next few years, winning the fight to live with ADD but losing my battle over food caused me intense frustration. I lost weight with the helpof Weight Watchers, but the yo-yo effect of dieting consistently reversed my progress. Ikept searching for options, secretly praying that I would never get to the point wheregastric bypass surgery was my only option. Frequent traveling for work meant limited physical activity and many nights in hotels with easy access to room service. Full-servicehotels quickly joined drive-thru windows in our codependency waltz. I hit bottom in May of 2005 on a business trip to Las Vegas. It took years before I finallyrecognized how I abused food. A month later I underwent gastric bypass surgery. After the procedure, I had to relearn how to eat. I still am no longer physically able to eat likebefore. My stomach was reduced to size of a newborn infant's, capable of holding only a few ounces. The surgery removed my physical appetite but did not diminish the mental cravings. Sure, I could try to overeat, but my new stomach always won. I am only able to consume what food I need as fuel. Fatty foods, fried foods, anything with highamounts of sugar, or carbonation all make me ill even eighteen months after surgery. My physical cravings for food disappeared, and the weight melted away. Each morning’s visit to the scale was a wonderful discovery. The first two hundred pounds were the easy part. Eventually, I began replacing my desire to eat with better choices. I attack the treadmill with the same vigor I formerly reserved for a bag of chips. Today, I understand how my ADD fed my compulsive overeating. As my struggle continued and my depression grew, my burgeoning girth led to regular humiliations: ill-fitting clothes stained from hemorrhoidsspilled food, incontinence, acid reflux, seat belt extensions on airplanes, even separating commode from a wall. As my eating and weight escalated, I began to recognize my behavior. In front of others. I never truly overate to the extreme of my private eating. I allowed obesity to isolate me into a shadow’s existence. Food was the best thing in my life and the worst part of my life. I lived to eat and ate to hide. I researched the surgical options for years before admitting that surgery was the only choice left other than early death. My blood pressurehad never been higher than 130 over 70, my cholesterol had never topped 180, and I had avoided diabetes, but I was tempting fate. My numbers today are much improved, as is my drop in suit sizes from an 86 to a 42 regular. I no longer require any asthma medication whatsoever. Taking control of my weight, aided by surgery and Overeaters Anonymous, has given me the serenity to accept certain aspects of my life that I cannot change, the courage to make the changes necessary for me to thrive, and the wisdom to know the difference. I no longer beat myself up about the years I lost to obesity. For the first time in my life, I am on the thin side of height-weight proportionality. My waist issmaller than when I was 14 and my Boy Scout Troop 497 backpacked to Philmont Scout Ranch. The only difference is that I am healthy and happy. Obesity is no longer my security blanket. I force myself to confront my demons and my dreams, looking deep within to understand the choices that made me eclipse 525 poundsas well as the choices that help me maintain my current weight of less than 200. My overeating was indicative of an over-indulging that manifested itself throughout my life. Losing weight physically was never achievable until I lost weight mentally. My recovery from compulsive overeating is a day-to-day journey. I yearn to transcend my tremendousambition with equal achievement. Through overcoming my own adversities, I am far more capable of empathizing with the struggles of others than if I had been thin my whole life. If you are struggling with an eating disorder; have body image issues; are scared; feel out of control; or, are trying to live day to day -- You are not alone. I've been there. I live day to day. You can find inner strength. It takes time. Having learned to accept and love myself as I am, I now know that love handles all.
Recent Comments