Guess I should probably re-introduce myself, as so many of you started posting here while I wasn't posting much.
A few years ago (in my late 20's) I was a fat but otherwise healthy person. Had depression, but I relocated and got an awesome job and that really helped me psychologically. And the town I moved to (Austin, TX) was a great town for being active and walking so that was good too. But about four or five months after getting there, I got really sick. I couldn't eat anything substantial without throwing up. Subsisted on eating tiny amounts of very bland foods for several months while they failed to diagnose me. Dropped forty pounds in two months, and continued to lose weight a bit more slowly during subsequent months. I had one doctor tell me I likely had duodenal cancer, which is something that's very, very bad to have. I don't know why he told me that because he hadn't even looked for it yet and once he did he found nothing. That scared the hell out of me, though. Eventually, after almost six months of being so sick I could not eat I was diagnosed with a gall bladder problem. It was yanked out within a week and I did see an immediate difference.
Not all was well, though. I had "phantom" symptoms. I could eat and eat whatever I wanted after the surgery, but I'd still feel like I was going to throw up. Everything was the same just not quite as bad. Things got a little better over time but even six months post-op I'd still occasionally have a string of two or three bad days or maybe even a week.
Fed up, I checked myself into the center for diagnostic medicine at a university hospital. Teams of doctors looked after me but could find nothing at all wrong. Eventually it was a gastroenterologist that diagnosed me with panic disorder. The rest of the doctors agreed. I believe this went on in October and Novermber of 2006, more than a year after my surgery.
At first I rejected the diagnosis. To me it just didn't fit and seemed preposterous. But in the following week or two I really looked at my behavior and determined they may be right. They only prescribed one drug and I didn't tolerate it. I attempted to control it myself with some success until the next February. At that point I had another bad spell and went to see a local doctor. There I was prescribed a small dose of Clonazepam which I was very skittish about taking, but eventually did and it worked very well.
Wow this is getting long. Need to shorten things up. Ended up leaving that job in Austin to work for myself in Dallas. It was sort of a partnership between me and my father, who was estranged for most of my life.
Moving back to Dallas was great for me. I found my creativity again. I had friends here. I even hooked up with an old girlfriend who I'd dated from age 17 to 25 (off and on). Loved her. We made plans to get married.
But then we broke up and that kind of hit me hard. Additionally, just a few months after the breakup the banks started failing. This was late 2008. My business began to suffer mightily. During all this I dropped all my good habits. Ate horribly. The weight I'd lost and kept off for three years came back in a matter of months.
And I've been fat ever since. Late last summer I dropped my health insurance due to the cost, and only recently picked up some more.
In the last few weeks a few significant things have occurred. My father died of a sudden and massive heart attack. This was a personal blow, but it was also a huge blow to my business. Our relationship was complicated at best and I'm still not sure how to deal with that, but I've had to keep working. Then, the very next week, I was nearly decapitated by an 18 wheeler. Was lucky...it was a low speed collision. I still ended up having to deal with insurance companies, lawyers, and I'm in physical therapy. My job was hard enough without all of that. Then, this week, my new health insurance finally kicked in and I went to a local doctor selected at random. He tells me I'm fat and it also turns out that my blood pressure is high. I've never had high blood pressure, even when I was fat before. The doc may have been a condescending jerk, but he was direct and honest so there's that, at least.
So with my dad dying of a heart attack and then having this bad doctor's visit, I was shocked into action. I immediately developed a weight-loss plan. It's aggressive and I know it will work. It's what they call a Very Low Calorie Diet. The problem with it is that it reminds me of how I used to feel before when I was sick and could not eat. This time I can eat, but do not. The results are the same. I feel hungry and weak. This familiar feeling is enough to cause me to get anxious at times, but I'm trying my best not to let that overcome me. This morning I'm losing the battle which is why I'm writing this.
Like I said, the diet is ambitious to say the least. In fact the first phase of it isn't even healthy. It's an anorexic's diet, basically. The only difference is that I'm trying to get all my nutrients, though that's very hard to do when you're allowed so few calories per day. In two and a half or three months I should have dropped a lot of weight and can then enter phase two, which is much more healthy. I will eat again, and introduce far more vigorous exercise than what I'm doing now.
I hope to achieve some results in a month, because this new doctor wanted me to come in for a complete physical in a month. I want to lose some weight by then, see a drop in my BP, and hopefully after what I'm doing I won't show high cholesterol or anything else. I'm afraid if I do he will put me on pills and I hate pills.
But anyway, this is very hard for me...feeling like I did when I was sick. That was a difficult time in my life to say the least and the flashbacks are absolutely horrible. In addition I'm dealing with the death of my father, business being so slow that I don't even have anything to do today, and this wreck I had which is absolutely maddening. Surprisingly except for yesterday morning, my anxiety has been in check for the most part. Today I'm a bit rattled. Yesterday I was sort of a wreck in the morning, at least.
But I just don't feel well. I'm consuming barely any food and my body is feeding off itself to keep things going. I'm going to have to do this for a while. At some point I expect my body to adjust to it, but for now there are some unpleasant side effects. On a positive note, this is my fifth day and if I'm not mistaken I've already seen results. My pants are already looser. And after eating like crap for a year or two, having the willpower to deprive myself of soda and chips and stuff like that gives me a sense of accomplishment. But I still don't feel well. It's like I'm in a fog. I'm told this will go away at some point but it still sucks.
Anyway I'm sorry for the length of my post. I just had to get all that out and there was no way to do so without getting into the background a bit. I left out as much as I could.