The Fat Crawler Experience
Journal (September 2007)
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My Journal for September 2007

September 19, 2007


I don't have much time to write this, which seems to sort of be my life, lately, but I'm going to work on this entry all day today, I think.  There are many, many, many things to cover.  The first is the hardest.  I'm trying not to cry.  I have an alcohol problem.  There, I said it.  That doesn't make it go away.  It's just sitting there, staring at me now.  I've known it for a while now, but I've had the problem even longer.  At least since a few months before I moved here, so it's been well over two years.  Back when I was living at home, I had even quit drinking for three months, but then I moved here and the parties and pressure started, and I couldn't deal with it all.  The stress was so much, and I was so tired, so I started again.  God, I feel sick admitting it.  Ain't I supposed to be the good example?  The nice guy who always does the right thing?  Well, maybe admitting this is the right thing.  Even since writing it down, I already feel better about it.  I suppose that's why Confession has always been so popular for us Catholics (well... former-Catholics included).  I won't put all the blame in any one place, including  myself.  There's a history of overdoing it on both sides of my family, but I honestly would say having gastric bypass was the major player.  Before that, just to get a slight buzz, I would have to drink for hours, as I was so huge that it didn't affect me much.  But now, depending on the kind of alcohol, I'm pretty much drunk by the bottom of the first drink.  And after that, I can't even remember where to stop.  I say stupid things and make an ass of myself.  I mean, nothing detrimental has happened, but it's embarrassing to think I have a section of my life I can't control.  I shouldn't say it like that.  I don't control.  Did I just replace one addiction for another?  Food for booze?  Or is it always like that?  I have had a few addictions:  Food, alcohol, exercising, reading, languages, working out, television, pain killers.  They're not all bad things.  But it seems I can't do much in moderation.  Is that a personality flaw, or something I can actually change?  I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and not just because of the alcohol, but because it seems for that to go away, I'd have to get addicted to something else so I don't think about it.  I think so damn much sometimes, that getting drunk seems to be the only way to shut it all off so I can wind down at night.  Well, there are no easy answers this second.  Mom and Dad have spiralled out of control in their divorce proceedings.  They've had each other arrested (or have tried to) repeatedly, over stupid things.  They've stolen and lied about money and relationships, sued their children for worthless possessions they don't even own.  And now there's a very good chance they'll both be doing over a decade in federal prison for years of tax evasion.  Can't there ever just be a normal day?  Every fucking day is a tragedy in their lives.  It gets exhausting.  My aunt Penny died of an ulcer over the summer.  She was only 42.  The only thing she left to anyone was three little kids to my mother, who was already struggling with three of her own.  The rest of her family could only talk about how much money they could get for her few little possessions.  None of them have offered to help Mom.  Pretty soon, I don't see that it will matter when she's sitting in a jail cell, six little kids left to the wind.  My family is definitely not looking my way.  That's something I can't and won't begin to take on.  I'm just getting started in life, finally, and I can't just give that up.  Hmm...  I only worked part time hours over the summer, so I fell a couple months behind on the bills, but now that school is back in session, I'm getting caught up.  But all that free time left me a lot of time for thinking and re-evaluating, and getting outside, and working out.  I got in pretty good shape this summer!  It was great!  I even went and saw a different plastic surgeon about getting another upper body lift.  I still haven't heard back from the insurance, but I want to do it eventually, no matter what.  Ok, new topic.  I have some new friends that I've gotten particularly close with over the summer.  Some might consider them hippy liberals, but that seems to be more the group I'm becomming part of (as if I could belong to one group!).  So I had this one friend that is so cool.  He's nice, bi and lives with his girl of three years, and he's just become so close to me.  Well, one night he took me out for pizza and a drink, as I was so broke and he rocks like that.  After, we hit this small bar around the corner that was oddly full for a Monday night.  Soon after getting there, he said he had to tell me something, because he felt like he was lying to me, but before that night, he thought I had known:  he's a transexual female to male in transition.  Now, save me your preconceived notions.  I have several friends who are transgendered.  They're people just like you and me, so that didn't bother me.  However, I was completely shocked.  I had had no idea whatsoever.  He could have just as easily said he was dying of cancer or was mega-rich and the king of Botswana, and I would have been easily as shocked.  So I did a little self-questioning, and asked myself what really defines a person, and did I really care what was under his clothes?  No.  I really don't care.  He's still my very close friend and totally rocks my world, so I just don't care.  It's weird, like... when he's not around, I think about it sometimes, but when I'm hanging out with him, I forget all about it.  He's just him.  So yeah... but we won't be hooking up, not that that was going to happen anyway.  I love the kid too much.  Anyway!  So I started growing these plants on my window sill, and I had no idea potatoes grew flowers, much less big purple and orange flowers!  This is probably dumb, but I sometimes feel bad eating potatoes because they're like my pets, and if I had a pet pig, I probably would feel bad eating bacon.  Of course, that hasn't stopped me!  I also took a week and tried to be vegan again.  I should just accept that I can't.  I was trying to do it as a permanent thing, but after a week, I felt awful, had lost a few pounds, and had a bunch of sores in my mouth, probably from all the salt in vegan food (well, at least in my vegan food).  Oh well, live and learn.  Chris... Chris was a guy I was seeing over the summer.  He was cute, fun, funny, great job, nice car, had his own place, and was actually within fives years of my age.  We went out on nice dates, watched movies, made out, even fooled around a couple times.  Then nothing.  He cooked me dinner one night, called me the next day, and he never called me again.  I tried to call him once after five days, but he didn't answer or call me back.  I have no idea why.  I had great times with him, but for some reason, I felt like he just didn't have time for me.  He was always working on his house, or at his job, or doing favors for family members.  I mean, I didn't want all of his time, but it was like I had to guilt trip him just to get him to come over.  He would never invite me out with his friends or family, thought I invited him many times, always with a decline.  So when he didn't call, I can't say I was surprised.  I don't even care that much, but it's just a dumb way to reject somebody.  Couldn't he have just told me?  Maybe it's me, but it seems juvenile to just not even call somebody up to break up with, or even stop seeing, them.  And speaking of relationships, Austin called me randomly after cutting off all contact for about two months.  Like always, it had to do with a problem he couldn't face.  He had randomly hooked up with some guy without using protection, and had gotten warts.  Well, duh!  I told him he was too smart and should know better (I'm one to talk, honestly), but I was nice.  I don't want him getting hurt.  I think he was regretful for having told me, because he didn't answer or call back when I tried to check in on him a few days later.  Whatever.  It's his life.  I was getting bored, so I started looking for quotes to write on my bedroom wall to help me re-focus.  Sometimes I feel like I talk in circles about wanting to improve, then doing the exact opposite of the necessary actions.  I'd get sick of reading about me, honestly.  I'd wave me away like an overly dramatic idiot who doesn't know what he's talking about.  I think I'm two different people when I write and when I talk, especially in social situations.  I seem so quiet and contemplative when I'm here alone, but in front of two or more people, I'm a nut case, jammering away like there's not a thought in my head.  Besides the inspirational quotes, I had started learning Russian.  It was going well until school started and I got really busy.  I've also started working on my spinning fire practice, again, as I had stopped for a couple months so I could work out more.  I worked out so much this summer, I ended up getting carpal tunnel syndrome really badly, but I've been wearing a wrist brace when I sleep, and that has helped immensely.  So I started my new job a few weeks ago.  I love it, and the pay is outstanding.  After my first paycheck, I was able to pay all my back bills, which have been hounding after me for months.  That takes so much stress off.  I still have a plethora of family members to pay back, but at least the official debt is under control.  I'd say the biggest thing I want to accomplish is finishing the weightloss process.  I don't want to have massive muscles, but firm and shapely muscles would be great.  I want to be really lean, and then get more surgery to take care of whatever remaining skin.  Even if I have to pay for it myself, I want to get it done.  I hate how my body looks.  It's just gross.  It's been years, and I've worked so hard, and it's not fair that I look like this.  I still need to lose about twenty-five or thirty pounds to be where I want.  I also want to become a distance barefoot runner.  Okay, you probably didn't see that one coming, but yeah.  Yesterday I did seven minutes on the treadmill with the steepest setting, with no shoes on, only socks.  My feet were a little sore and tight, but I swear they didn't hurt nearly as badly when I did it with shoes.  I read in an article that shoes have so much support, they weaken your foot muscles, which start to atrophy over time.  Not wearing shoes forces your feet to be strong.  Well, my feet couldn't be more atrophied than they are right now, so I don't have much to lose.  Okay, it's work time.  Once again, I know I need to write more often.  I've felt more sane all day just from putting my initial thoughts down this morning.  "Better days are comin'," as my gram always says.




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