Holiday Weight Gain: Here We Go Again

On January 4, 2016, the day I was going to end the holiday binge eating and get back to my goal weight, I stepped on the scale and it showed 262.5 lbs.

I have gained 73 lbs from my thinnest state 15 years ago. At this pace, the next stop is the 306 lbs that I used to weigh, or more.

This has to stop. This will stop!

I took a picture of the scale this morning and posted it on my homepage and the Fatman in Recovery Facebook page. I also have a recurring guest spot every 2 weeks on On the Couch with host John Kuna, PsyD. (It’s on 94.3 The Talker for those of you in the Scranton area; there is a Bold Gold Media app for those of you elsewhere).

Before I talk about the health care topic of the week, I will be discussing my current weight.

I formerly lost weight by attending a Weight Watchers meeting every 2 weeks, where I was held accountable for my actions by the meeting leader and my fellow members. Their praise was a good part of the motivation to keep me going.

Now, social media, the Internet, and airwaves will keep me straight, and more narrow.

The holiday weight gain doesn’t look good on me. It has moved onto my face, and it looks like I have a goiter.

I am developing jowls. In fact, my Boxer-mix dog has come up to me and said, “You are developing jowls.”

I should know better. I am watching my Mom battle for her life, and I can’t help but think that her cardiopulmonary troubles stemmed from the added stress of carrying extra weight around for the better part of her life.

As a health care professional, I know exactly what needs to be done.

Fatty, sugary, salty, and crunchy foods are my drugs of choice. I believe it to be addictive, and as a self-diagnosed binge eater, I love them.

There is comfort in eating them. I feel good when I eat them, as well as in the afterglow of the sugar high.

Like any drug, there is the crash and then the guilt of what you just did to yourself. In order to get rid of the guilt, you eat more. It is a wicked cycle.

For the past 7 years or so, I gained about 10 lbs per year by sheer self-sabotage. Somehow, deep in the abyss of my conscience, there is a need to be unsuccessful. I somehow feel unworthy of the physical fitness I once had.

I know now that I am worthy. It won’t be easy, because it never is.

I need to get back into the gym. In fact, I am heading to the YMCA as soon as I finish writing this.

All I need is to have one good day and build from there. The Fatman in Recovery needs to get food sober again, and I am on my way.

Jay Sochoka, RPh, is dusting off and moving on.