itslinga

[itslinga]

It's Sunday, which means it's rest day. I completed 8 different workouts in the past 6 days and I feel great. However, today is sort of weird. Weird in a sense that I actually feel like I'm not doing enough.

I know, I know, I'm supposed to rest actively and I plan on doing so, but even with that in mind, I feel like it's not enough.

I'm chalking that up as a win, though. Imagine being almost completely sedentary, to worrying about not moving enough in one day.

*mind blown*

I am pretty hungry. I think it's because I haven't had as much water today as I normally do. That, and the fact I'm about 10 feet away from a stuffed crust pizza.

Alas, I've not indulged, but I'll be damned if it's not one of the hardest trials as of yet. Honestly, probably a nice taste of what's to come this Thanksgiving.

Otherwise, not much else happening today.

[itslinga]

So, last night was truly my biggest test in my new-found sobriety.

Ashley and I were selected to do somewhat of a gender reveal party, which (no surprise) escalated to a night of drinking. I did say I'd only drink during true events of celebration, which a pregnancy is definitely something to be celebrated, but it's not mine to celebrate. Therefore, no drinking.

I'm proud of myself for staying strong in a crowded room filled with seemingly endless attempts at inebriation. But, I only consumed non-alcoholic beverages including 2 Gatorade Zeros and a bottled water. Thankfully, Aba had allegedly purchased those Gatorades for me since he knew I wasn't drinking.

I've lost another 3 pounds since my last weigh in, which puts me on pace to lose about 12 pounds this month, fantastic. I expected only 10 or so, but we're not at the end of the month yet to know for sure I'll hit 12. Regardless I'm feeling better, I FEEL lighter which sounds obvious, but isn't easy to explain.

I'm wondering how the remainder of the month will go with Thanksgiving occurring soon, which also coincides with traveling, and BOTH equate into poor eating situations. Not that I plan on dismantling my own success, but how will I fair once I'm around the "test".

Test, of course, referring to being around family, food, and, you guessed it, alcohol. Sadly, not simply for one day either, more like 3ish. 3 DAYS OF DRINKING AND EATING BADLY. However, at this point, it doesn't even sound exciting to me, which is a welcomed change of reaction, considering how excited I'd normally be.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, my father is pretty much saying he isn't going to be coming this year. I'm unsure how I feel about this. I mean, he is my father but, he's really been fucking up lately. He recently got his girlfriend pregnant, who is also the mother of my brothers 3 children. I can't make this shit up. Also, she is allegedly pregnant with TWINS... *gasp*

I wouldn't mind seeing him, but I guess I honestly don't care either way. Hell, maybe next time I see him I'll be skinny.

Family, amirite?

Until next time.

✌️

[itslinga]

Woke up another day still motivated to better myself. At this point I'm wondering why I always gave up. I feel flat out better than I've felt in months just from going to the gym and eating in a caloric restriction. So why have I given up countless times in the past. A true conundrum. But, I think I might have an answer; accountability.

People often refer to accountability as putting yourself in an environment of similar interests and goals. I am starting to think that is only halfway correct. The people you interact with often compartmentalize their compassions only to be shared with their closest friends. Some friends may see a different compassion than others, hence the compartmentalization. So, what I mean by this, is while you may think a change in your environment is necessary, that may not be the case.

It may not be the case because if you change your ideals, and then share those ideals with your current surroundings, the ideals held within those surrounds may automatically change.

TL;DR - Change yourself, your environment will change.

So, that's why surrounding yourself with the factor of accountability hasn't worked for me before. I expected my environment to change FOR me, and then, per evolutionary standards, I would also change.

I was backwards.

I've now realized with my current lifestyle change, those around me (read - my environment) have become knowledgeable in my practice and have accepted to include me and what might have previously been non-existent or hidden from me subconsciously.

Weird.

Although this sounds like a bad thing, it truly isn't. This is the segmentation of the mind that breeds civility. It is what has created humankind's ability to understand peace. Unfortunately, understanding and practicing are vastly different, if only they weren't, the world may be better off.

Find accountability within yourself and the rest will follow. Easier said than done, but still doable.

[itslinga]

I've had a productive day today. Although I'm off work, I went to the gym at 6am, and then went to my annual doctors appointment.

Let's talk about this:

So, as you can see. I'm an anxious, morbidly obese person, who suffers from ongoing chronic back pain, and is at risk for sleep apnea and diabetes.

Wonderful.

Thanks food!

Besides anxiety (pending further research) all of these ailments are quite literally curable by NOT BEING FAT. Imagine that.

Reducing my stomach size would decrease the pressure pulling inward on my lower spine, reducing my body fat percentage would exponentially decrease my concern with becoming diabetic, and having less visceral fat in general would alleviate the sleep apnea.

No male in my immediate family has lived passed 60 (my father hasn't reached this age, but it's doubtful he will considering his lifestyle)

To me, this is terrifying... Am I potentially halfway through my entire life? Is it too late to add a few more years? Have I fucked up completely? No.

No, no, nope nuh uh. Not a chance. I believe wholeheartedly, that with weightloss I can fix these things and elongate my remaining time left. I have to. And while I do believe I can do it, I also think this may be my last chance.

I'd rather sleep with a gun in my mouth than attached to a sleep apnea machine. I'd rather cut myself and bleed out, than prick myself to check my sugar everyday. I'd rather sew my mouth shut, than to ever utter "I have gout" again. I'd prefer to get hit by a semi-truck, than to wake up with this unending, excruciating back pain. And I'd rather gouge my fucking eyeballs out than ever have to read the words "MORBIDLY OBESE" on my God damn medical record ever again.

Sorry, that got kind of dark. ☠️

Imagine hating something this much, but STILL somehow loving food more than that. I think at this point I fully understand the perspective of a drug addict. Regardless of their health, well-being, mental stability, appearance, relationship strength (family, friends, romance, etc.) They still choose the drug. And that's what I've done with food.

I've brought myself unimaginably closer to my own cause of death, and hardly paused a moment enough to give a single fuck about it.

Not anymore, not anymore.

[itslinga]

I'm really on a roll with going to the gym. Just trying to create a habit out of it. Still haven't found that euphoric gym addiction everyone has told me about, although I haven't physically saw much progress. I feel like I've definitely made progress, but it just isn't visible to me yet. In due time, in due time.

One thing I've definitely noticed is that I feel so good each day. In terms of physical well-being and mental clarity, my current status seems unmatched compared to my memory of previous attempts.

The human body is super weird. Our mind creates and sustains our emotions, but simultaneously doesn't seem to comprehend them? It controls your body's energy expenditure, yet doesn't have an explicit means of warning you if you have too much or too little? (Until it's too late...)

But, I digress. There isn't a true need to understand as long as what you do know seems to create success. At the moment, I feel successful, or, at least, that I will be.

Maybe that was the necessary head space needed all along. An answer so simple that it's practically infallible. Maybe Nike was correct in creating their slogan "Just Do It."

It's perfect. Just do it. If you fail, do it again. Repeat this process until you succeed. Success isn't necessarily the actual opposite of failure, it's more like the interpreted outcome after failure. Failure is just a stepping stone to success. Sometimes you need multiple stones to cross the river.

My river is wide. It's roaring, rapid, and dangerous. Countless times I've went back to the shore of which I'm familiar because the difficulty upheld in traversing the unknown. But no more. I am the captain. I decide where to dock my ship, and no one else. I create my destiny and interfere with no other. I have sunk, but have not drowned. I've lost a few battles, but I will WIN the war.

[itslinga]

Okay, calorie restriction is tough and although I've done it countless times, I somehow forgot just how hard it actually was.

I'm bringing this up because I'm angry today. Better yet "hangry." In fact, I'm borderline diva.

Today is going to be LONG.

I explained to Ashley to prepare for my anger issues as a joke a few days prior to starting, I don't think she's laughing now. However she at least understands.

Food is so intertwined with my emotions and honestly I don't think that's particularly healthy. Besides alcoholism, that is the next objective that I must conquer. Actually, this might be a bit more daunting than tossing the beer.

When I was younger I was impoverished. But simultaneously, my mother was a great cook. Although she had to spread out a monthly food-stamp allowance to feed a family of four, the food was almost always delicious. The bad part about the food, was that it was usually cheap. And, while some cheap food is good, it mostly isn't good for you. It's mostly highly processed, highly caloric and highly addictive.

I mostly hated everything about my living situation, my home was small, and my bedroom was just a concrete porch that led to our bathroom. I had practically zero privacy (imagine the only path to the single bathroom within the home to be located in your fucking BEDROOM).

I'd wake up and go to school, return home only to drop off my backpack before immediately leaving and going to play/hang with my friends in the neighborhood. I only really came home to sleep, and, you guessed it... Eat.

In fact, eating may have quite literally been the only thing I enjoyed while I was at home. Food was my mother's love language, and in a stressful home environment that lacked any affection, it was a necessary language to share.

Taking that first bite of dinner would vanquish any hardships that occurred throughout my day. It would give a sense of healing, a rush of endorphins, and create a false sense of comfort. Ironic that the one thing at that time that brought me joy, is now one of the only things that brings me pain.

🎵"And yeah, life has a funny way of sneaking up on you. And life has a funny, funny way of helping you out" 🎵

- Ironic, Alanis Morissette

[itslinga]

Ahh. Today I feel good. This might be a cliche or cheesy thing to write about but, I wonder what I'd look like with visible abs. And maybe a jaw line? Weird.

Obviously way down the road from this point but oddly motivating to think about. My luck I'll probably look like a drug addict - runs in the family 😅

Regardless, I'm hoping to have them by end of next summer. Far-fetched probably, but I'd like to go to the beach, and actually enjoy the literal beach part. I'm hoping for a loss of 10lbs per month and luckily I have 10 months... Well see.

Honestly, I don't think the part of my body normally covered with a t-shirt has seen sunlight (unless by accident somehow) since like 2006 when Eric made a comment about my "man breasts" in the Bel-air pool. (with the exception of a few privatized events I consider excluded)

I was pretty upset about that for a long time. Unfortunately, I use food as a source of comfort which likely perpetuated any snide comment from anyone to snowball into an uncontrollable eating binge.

Since then, however, all remarks about my weight/appearance have been forgiven. I realized that I'm accountable for myself, and if a comment or two about how I look knocks me down so easily, maybe I should do something about it.

In yesterday's entry I wrote about conquering my drinking habit, and a few good things have already came about since.

Tara seemed concerned about my drinking habits and asked if I had ever considered seeking therapy. Wow. (Not a sarcastic wow either) I couldn't believe that someone was that worried about ME. Although I have considered therapy, I've never committed. I promised her that if it gets out of hand again, I'll go.

Aba agreed to store/drink the alcohol already in my fridge for me - not a very hard task for him, but still very nice. This is TREMENDOUSLY helpful because it's way harder to quit drinking when the temptation is only a few feet away.

I really think I can do it.

💪✌️

[itslinga]

So I skipped yesterday's journal entry, oops.

Anyways, it's currently 5:13am on Sunday, November 7, 2021. As stated in the previous two entries, I'm in a mental/physical battle with weight loss.

I stumbled upon a weird, yet possibly helpful situation recently. Beer/alcohol makes me gasp for air or possibly even choke on air? Does that make sense?... I know it doesn't sound helpful per sé, but uh, keep reading.

Drinking is currently my most detrimental obstacle in my current situation. I love it, I hate it, I hate that I love it.

🎵 Hate it or love it, the underdogs on top. And I'm gon' shine, homie, until my heart stop 🎵

- SORRY, ADHD.

Drinking is my biggest hindrance, and has been for quite sometime. Not only do I consume a plethora of unnecessary calories, it also often creates cravings for unneeded/unwanted food.

Now, as for why waking up choking is a good thing. Well, it isn't but that's the beauty of it. It's scary, it's incredibly inconvenient and it's also very painful. Therefore, I do not wish to have this happen ever again.

A breakdown:

Drinking = Fun

Gasping = No fun

Therefore drinking = No fun.

It's simple math honestly.

Unfortunately to figure this out, I had to drink and THERFORE self sabatoge my diet and my progress.

I've tried to "quit" drinking a few times and it's never seemed to work. I always find myself in social situations where partaking in the consumption of alcoholic beverages is considered the norm. However, I think I've always failed in my previous attempts because I'd try to remove myself from nearly all social interaction -- not a good choice when you're me.

What I need to do, instead of completely removing myself from these interactions, I need to only partially remove myself. I need to teach myself enough self-discipline to "enjoy the party" without using alcohol as a crutch.

Doesn't that sound fun? No.

But that's not the point here is it?

I'm considered BY MY DOCTOR as MORBIDLY OBESE.

The majority of people I've told that to never seem to agree. (The BMI scale is definitely garbage) and to a point that's true. But I quite literally have recorded medical documentation of being a fat-fuck.

Gross.

Anyways; I'm going to quit drinking. Not in the sense of complete sobriety, but 95% or so.

So, in my brain this boils down to only drinking in, what I'm going to call, "True Celebration." And my definition of this will be as follows.

An event or social gathering legitimized by the construct of success.

A milestone in life must be reached in order to drink... Genius.

I have a similar idea for "cheat days" but I'll save that for an upcoming post.

For now, I'm going to see if I can sleep some more.

😴😴

[itslinga]

🎵 I knew it was all on me, all my bets were all on me

I knew if I called the universe enough, it'd call on me

I believed in non-existent, all my thoughts into fruition

Poke the universe enough, it turns around and grants your wishes… 🎵

- Russ

Justin and I were talking about how remaining positive throughout negative situations creates a likelier positive outcome. As farfetched as it may seem, I think this may be practical.

Anytime I've found myself in a negative situation in life, I've always allowed that negativity to control the outcome. But, what if you didn't have to do that.

What if you could create a positive world, albeit maybe within your own mind, that surrounded the negativity that you fell into.

Could it be that simple? Hmm...

In retrospect, I've also realized this can apply to my current weight-loss situation. Most times I can remember (not many, my memory sucks) a negative life event has occurred at some point, always stifling my progress. [ie - the death of my father-in-law]

I think the first step in this attempt is to realize that negative life events aren't entirely avoidable, but how you endure them is what counts.

But how? How can you find positivity in a negative situation, especially the death of a loved one, or the news of a severe illness etc.?

Is this where the quote "fake it until you make it" comes from?

Maybe Russ (the rapper) is right, maybe [essentially] every extremely successful person is RIGHT.

Maybe you just sort of ignore the negative unless it's directly affecting you, or your responsibility, and maintain a positive mindset throughout life, endure the pain you feel by recalling the joy you've felt. Use the darkness to create a path that leads to the light. Use your own failures as medicinal correlations to aphold your successes.

Create your own greatness.

[itslinga]

Well, I attempted journalism to try to stay focused on my goals, and to also alleviate some anxiety. However, writing in a book with paper and pen seems a tad archaic. Enter Tumblr.

Today is Thursday, November 4th 2021, and I'm a bit more than halfway through my 3rd week of my umteenth attempt at weight loss.

On an actual scale, I've been yo-yo dieting for about half of my life, and that has to change NOW. I'm the epitome of the term failure and currently tip-toeing the line of utter insanity. You know... The cliched definition?

in·san·i·ty

/inˈsanədē/

noun - repeating the same act over-and-over while expecting different results.

Something like that, you get it.

Anyways, I recently realized that, over a span of 15+ years, I've lost on average 30 pounds per year. In most scenarios this would be a glorious achievement, but for me... A crisis.

To better put this information into perspective, that's ~450 lbs! I've quite literally (well in the ballpark) have lost... FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY FUCKING POUNDS.

JESUS. CHRIST.

You'd imagine someone with the capability of losing that much weight would be someone you'd see on "My 600 Pound Life." Alas, not I, my highest weight ever recorded has been 313

🎵 Everybody in the 3-1-3 put your mother fucking hands up and follow me 🎵🙆‍♂️...

Thanks Eminem, now I'll never forget how disgusting I've became.

Since the discovery of my weight matching Detroit's area code, I've been technically more dedicated than ever before to lose weight. However, I'm still failing.

Two years, and a loss of 51 pounds later, I still weigh in at a staggering 286. Lovely.

As I progress, and to entertain a nearly lost mind, I'll try to update this as often as I can.

✌️