9 Months, A Weight Off My Shoulders and My Ass

"If you want to live life on your own terms, you gotta be willing to crash and burn."-Motley Crue

I have spent the better part of my life trying to live the Rock N Roll lifestyle. I wanted to be different, unique, buck the stereotype and never be victim to trends or accept that I could be average. I got my tattoos, I was in a band, I dated pretty girls and I partied like I invented it. For the most part, people loved being a part of my shenanigans but no one ever liked suffering the consequences. Somehow I found a way to be indifferent to consequences and suppress all empathy for those involved and the people that I hurt. I was fun but I was an asshole. So much of an asshole that that is usually how people would describe me. Funny thing was that I was never alone. Maybe people enjoyed the ride or maybe people just loving watching a train wreck. I don't know.

9 months ago I woke up hungover, in pain, disgusted with myself and called into work...again. I lied to everyone that day because I was so ashamed of myself for not only drinking a case of beer alone but the fact that I couldn't handle it and had to call into work.

I laid on the couch with the TV off and just let the misery of the hangover really sink in. I made myself aware of every feeling physically, mentally, and emotionally. I really soaked it in.

Feeling the guilties crawling all over me like ants I took some stock of where I was in my life. I asked myself just how unique and different I felt. How "Rock N Roll" was I feeling at this moment? How badass was I right now?

I was useless. I took stock of alienated friends, disgusted acquaintances, and every time I acted like an animal at the expense of others. Fuck man. That was a hard mirror to look into.

I had become stereotype, a statistic, a loser, and a drunk. I was 270 pounds of pure bitterness and angst. I was incapable of excelling at anything, I could not follow through, and worst of all I couldn't allow myself to get close to anyone. The music video life had ended and now I was just a sad 31 year old trying to keep some youthful dream alive with booze and loud music. I was just fatter and angrier than I had been before.

So we all know the story from my previous post about getting sober. That day was my epiphany or moment of clarity or whatever you want to call it. I nursed the hang over and resolved to change the cycle. I got my ass up and went to a meeting. I baby stepped the process and didn't overwhelm myself with a lot of resolutions all at once. I just needed to keep from drinking. I ate what I wanted, I smoked, and just sat on my ass. Whatever it took or didn't take to stay sober. That was priority one.

One thing I learned from those meetings is that I really wasn't different or unique at all. Mostly, drunks and addicts are the same. Self centered people incapable of moving forward. It was eye opening. Now, it did give me some perspective though. I guess I am what you call a high bottom drunk because I didn't go through near the hell that others have. I don't have a criminal record, I didn't hurt anyone physically, and I didn't have much to begin with but I never lost everything to the point of camping on a park bench. Addiction has taken people some crazy places and I am grateful everyday that I never had to go there. God must have been looking out for me more than I knew. Him and all of my great friends that put up with my shit so long and didn't want to see me die.

Sobriety is funny in that the first few months are pure momentum. You make it known you are sober, you are excited at the thought of your new life and everyday is a victory. After those first few months, reality sets in. The boredom comes. Then the thought you are missing out things because you have to avoid temptation. People treat you differently. It just becomes real. You realize this isn't just a think you are doing that has some stop date and everything can go back to what you are used to. You are different now. Life is different. And just about the time you think things are getting easier, they actually become more challenging.

This is the point that I had to take another look at myself in that cold hard mirror.

When I stopped drinking things improved 1000 fold for me. Whether it be divine intervention or just opportunity meets preparation, things got better. I had a new job that I loved. A new truck. I had money in my pocket and I felt great. Everyday I woke up, and still do, and tell God, my higher power, the universe how eternally grateful I am to have what I have. But things still were not where they should be. Now I was just a recovering alcoholic hiding in my house and in meetings to avoid the real world. I was still stagnating and I had to move. My ambition was atrophied.

This treadmill had it's own consequences. I was still sad, lazy, and fat as fuck. It was time to take the next step. I had to get healthy. Mind, body, and soul. I started focusing on my diet and repairing the damage I had done over the previous 15 years of my life. I got on a meal plan, supplements, and a very moderate workout routine. The pounds started coming off. When I weighed in at 271 pounds the first day with my nutritionist, I was profoundly disappointed in myself. I had John Goodman jowls and giant gut. I could literally get tired while doing absolutely nothing. At a physical they told me I had the lungs of a 50 year old and my weight was going to become a big concern. Honestly when I started I figured this would not last. I had gotten on health kicks before and then made excuses for myself to abandon the practice fairly quickly. But being that I was less influenced by outside forces these days due to my self imposed isolation, I surprisingly stuck to it long enough to see results. The first picture I took on the scale was when I dropped below 260 pounds. I had lost 14 pounds. That was huge. I felt like a million bucks that day. The momentum started up again. I was feeling great.

The next step was to step up my fitness game. I was losing weight and feeling healthier but years of drinking and sitting on my ass had made me weaker and shaped like a fat pair. A gym membership was doing me no fucking good. I would go in there without a plan and workout until I was bored. I got bored quickly. I never gave a shit if anyone was judging because fuck everyone else, but the gym is boring. Especially when you don't know what the fuck you are doing. So I started walking and jogging...eh...mostly walking. This too was boring. That also brings up something I learned in AA. "Half measure availed us nothing." Baby steps are the way to go when trying to overcome addiction and when trying to change your life. But there are certain goals that compromising and not putting in some hard work will just lead you to frustration. I didn't want to be one of those people that say they are going to lose weight and the take a brisk 30 minute walk 3 times a week. That shit don't work. I am not a 60 year old with joint pain. I am capable of more. Maybe that was new found confidence but you can't make the decision to make a huge change and not put in huge work to achieve it.

Under the recommendation of my food coach, I joined a high intensity fitness boot camp. I signed up for the 5:30am class and the first day drove to the wrong camp and almost gave up. Fuck 5:30am. At that time of day it still feels like yesterday. My brain does not work at that hour. So I made it out to another class. We started working out. We did some warm up kicking and swinging arms, then some jumping jacks, some other things, ran a bit and so on. I was beat. Vomit almost happened. That's when the instructor, Brian, said "Ok, now we are warmed up, lets get into the workout." I almost left right then. Really, that was the warm up? Holy shit. I struggled through the rest of the class to finish the workout and hold back my puke. I sweat more than I had ever sweat. I felt defeated. I thought this can only get easier so I went to another class. Same thing. I hated it. I told myself that this wasn't for me. I don't like this kind of thing, blah blah blah. Talking myself out of it. I emailed the company and cancelled my membership so they wouldn't charge me again. As soon as they did that, Brian emailed me and said he really hated to see me go and that he thought I was doing great. He said I should at least finish the weeks I had paid for and see how felt. I did pay for that shit, so I kept going. A couple weeks later down 12 more pounds. Boom. Momentum. I was below 250 pounds now and that was like a fucking giant golden trophy to me.

3 months or more later I go everyday, sometimes 6 days a week. The funny thing is that it never gets easier, but it has gotten so much better.

Having someone give you instruction and plan is the key to the fitness. But the key to continuing is the encouragement, accountability, and friendships that you make with your fellow campers. Everyone of all fitness levels are there for the same thing. It gets to the point if you don't go, you miss it. It becomes a priority in your life. It keeps you on the right path because when you make a lot of progress, you don't want to take steps backward. Its too hard to get where you are.

Now I am down 42 pounds. I am 9 months sober. Still kicking ass at my new job and able to be back out in the real world without being afraid the ghosts of my past will haunt me. I am a new person....kind of. See the thing I realized through all this is that now I really am different, unique, and bucking the stereotype. I can put on some Rob Zombie and run a mile and feel like an actual badass anytime my time improves. I get fucking pumped when I kill a workout. I don't fit the mold of angsty band failure guy anymore. The most Rock N Roll thing I have ever done for myself was break that mold. I am not turning into the person I feared before. I just keep getting better. I am the badass I always thought I was before. I am a grateful, hardworking badass. hahaha

9 months sober is still a short time relatively to what I have ahead of me. But I know there are others out there struggling to break the cycle of self punishment that want to be better and happier. I also know that there are people that truly believed I could never do something like this, and hopefully they can see that I did and realize they can too. Maybe even easier and better than I have done it.

The other reason to post this is for all the people that have been there for me. Not just through this stuff. Not just the good stuff, but the bad stuff. The people that never gave up on me even when they should have. The people that carried to bed when I was too drunk to walk. The people that came and gave me rides when I would randomly get wasted with no money. The people that always said they knew I was great. My girlfriend for being so patient and loving me unconditionally and modifying her life to help me.

I also want to say thank you and I am sorry to the people that stayed around as long as they could, but due to self preservation had to make the break from my life. Sometimes I wish I could have done this sooner so you can see the man I have become and know that I could not have done without you. I am sorry that I pushed you away so hard when you tried to stay by me but thank you for carrying me when you did.

I am always here to talk or listen if anyone needs me. Change is possible and it feels great.

Thanks for reading.