Choices

I've been writing here off and on for a few years now. Looking back, I've noticed that not a hell of a lot has changed since my very first post. I'm still fat. I still hurt. And I still complain about it. There is a saying about hitting bottom and needing to make a choice, go sideways or go up. I've been going sideways, for years. I'm great at making plans, having ideas, coming up with solution. What I really, truly suck at is implementing all those brilliant ideas. I worked hard to get bariatric surgery and haven't lost a pound since a few months post op. My current weight is 460. Sure, that's a fuck of a lot better than my highest at 590, but come one man. So, yesterday the wife and I joined a gym. My biggest fear here is that I won't make myself go. I've done it before. Hell, I think that's how gyms stay in business. Don't believe me? Go visit a gym on January 1st, then go back February 1st. All those "new year resolutions" dissolve into sweaty towels and tears. And lower bank balances.

I've belonged to a few gyms over the years. Lost a lot of money to them after giving up. I was always so concerned about what others thought about the sweaty fat guy, I let my perception of others keep me from doing what I needed to do. I guess I'm old enough now that I simply don't give a shit. And that's a good thing. It's time to climb up, not crawl sideways. One of the most frustrating aspects of my depression is the apathy. It makes it so simple to simply hang out at the bottom of the hole. Not comfortable, or fun, or easy. Certainly not enjoyable in any way, other than being simple. When every day is a struggle to simply exist, moving up seems impossible and pointless. And that needs to change.