Image courtesy of the Dedham, MA Transcript
Wow, that hit home for me. Before I started losing weight, when I was 315 pounds at 5'9'', I was convinced that I was dying. At least once a week, I'd start thinking about how I was going to have a heart attack and then suddenly would begin feeling chest pains. It was terrible. I went to the emergency room twice about it only to be told that my heart was fine and what I was feeling was probably indigestion.
I'd go to bed at night with my deadbolt undone, because I figured if I died during the night, the police and firemen wouldn't have to knock the door down. There were nights that I'd lay in bed and feel guilty that I was dying and my family would probably have to pay for an extra-large coffin. The vision of pallbearers struggling to get my coffin out of a hearse would make me tear up.
I know it was anxiety now, but then I was convinced I'd be dead before I turned 30. I'd look at my parents and feel terrible for them knowing that they'd be devastated after losing a child. Part of me knew it was all my fault, and the guilt made me eat more. That vicious cycle crap is never a fun thing.
Then, on January 24, 2007, I realized that I needed to stop mourning my death that hadn't happened yet and do something to change my life. It wasn't easy, but I did it. Miraculously, my "heart attacks" went away, and until reading Anthony's story this morning, I completely forgot that there was a time in my life when I would go to sleep, convinced that I would never wake up. That's no way to live, and I'm glad I changed.
I feel guilty about gaining 40 pounds back. It feels like a failure and I'm embarassed by it. But like Anthony, and like me in January of 2007, I can again take responsibility for my own life and stay on the road to a fit and healthy me.

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