Sunday, 27 July 2008

A Murder of Crows - Volume 19

The dog days of dieting are upon me. I happen to be lucky in the regards that if I want to lose a lot of weight fast, I can simply not eat, lift a lot of weights and let the muscle burn the fat off. A lot of men are like this, and it is one of the fortunate attributes of the gender. I noticed after the Mother of All the Evils’s left me, that anger led to testosterone, and by sheer fury I could bulk up in all the right places and lose the fat everywhere else, and that methodology has always stuck with me. At that time of course I went from a pathetic 220 pounds of fat, dumb and happy, and shrunk down to a measly 148 pounds at one point, but I had a lot of help with that. Since she had left me when I was in the hospital with Chicken Pox, I was already on the way to losing the first 30 pounds because of the pneumonia. I don’t suggest that route for anyone, but fate was on my side at the time I suppose. The weight lifting came along in there because I was so weak when I got out of the hospital that I couldn’t even lift my 8 month old daughter.

The rage of the betrayal kinda took all of that and made it out to be something far worse eventually. I was completely exercise bulimic, so that no matter how much I ate, I was guaranteed to run into the gym and work it out of me so hard that I gained no nutrition what so ever. I had that wonderful heroin physique and a horrendous temper, and aside from all of my other problems I was rather pathetic on top of it all. When the doctor finally changed my meds it all turned around anyway, and I started actually putting on muscle and at the end of my last “health” spurt, I was maxed out at about where I am now, although I looked a hell of a lot better. Of course I was about 5 years younger too, so that would stand to reason. At that time I was about 175, with a 30’ waist, 42 “ shoulders and chest, and I was able to ignore the fact that they don’t make clothes to fit people like that. This is a big secret in the mind of a hopeless physical manipulator {aka anorexic, bulimic} because clothes made for normal people will always make you look and feel fat.

Now I am struggling a bit again. I seem to have a better grasp of my mental facilities, but that is probably more a symptom of age more than anything else. After years of being in an impossible to fathom online relationship, and coming to grips with the fact that it was not only impossible, but perhaps more to the point, foolhardy, I was already well on the path to the level of “not giving a shit” that I had to be at to get as out of shape as I was this time around. I finally was looking at having to get larger pants so I could sit around and wallow in my self pity and eat, when I finally had enough of that. I went from 210 to as low as 178 and now am back up at 182, but my waistline is smaller still than 178 so I am assuming that I am on the turn around. The turn around being that point where you have stripped most of the fat and are now at the point of putting on heavier muscle. I still feel fat, and I still feel bloated all the time, and I actually don’t like looking at myself, which is the real reason I take pictures of myself every day. History has dictated that I am an idiot and I have to stay above the dangerous phase of getting in shape at the expense of my health. Well I figured the best thing to do at this point is take my last 50 bucks and buy some new clothes. Thank God for Wal-Mart because 50 dollars will buy you a week’s worth of clothes, and despite my body disfixiation, I can feel cool enough in Wal-Mart bought clothes. Go figure huh?

Wal-Mart is now stocking “athletic fit” clothing which filled me with a bit of jubilation. I never learn my lesson though, because I have fallen into that “athletic fit” trap all throughout my existence, and like anyone else that sells “athletic fit” clothing they are simply to make pudgy people feel better about themselves. My new “athletic fit” clothing are too tight in the shoulders, and way too baggy in the middle and when I first put them on they made me feel fat. Pretty sad huh? The trick during times like these that an old roommate of mine once told me when she was sick of killing myself through diet many years back is to turn to the side and look at yourself that way. This is why I remember to take pictures of myself from the side too, despite the vanity of it. From the side a guy can see his “shape” regardless of the clothing that he wears, and it works for women too, as long as they don’t assume they have to be shaped like a ballerina anyway. I do fit back into my old suits that had been tailored for my physique but again I had my affirmation that I am filling out more in the right places as the shoulders are tight. I am not thrilled in having to step up to 1X shirts just to move my arms, but then again they should stay tucked in easier ;8o)

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes& Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of J~ Crow}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

All writings Copyright © 2008 .. The Crow's Nest

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