This may sting a little.
- October 5, 2016
It was cold and raining that night. I remember sitting in the darkness watching my breath. Time seemed to stand still. My God it was icy yet I sat there motionless. It was a weird feeling similar to when you’re involved in an accident–everything sounded hollow and time seemed to move so slowly.
As I looked out of my windshield I could barely make out its shape in the distance. “It’s so far away and I’m so tired and it’s so cold”. I only had enough energy to hang my head and slump toward my window. I don’t know how long I was out but a strange noise startled me and I sat up. My heart was pounding as I looked around my car. I didn’t see anybody but where was that sound coming from?
Weird sensations swept through my body. I was out of breath and almost giddy. Where was that sound coming from still? The colors of the occasional headlights seemed hazy. I blinked several times just so I could see its roundish shape again in the far distance. There was that sound again. I defiantly looked in my rear view mirror to hopefully get a glimpse of the unwelcome guest in my car. What I saw was baffling. It was me. I watched with desperate sadness at the face in the mirror; red-eyed, covered in freeze dried streaks of salty tears, hair wildly abandoned and a wounded whimpering sound coming from somewhere so deep that it didn’t sound like it was part of me.
I remember I started shaking–not from the cold but from the intense emotional pain. I wanted to die but death didn’t or wouldn’t come. Instead I lowered my gaze from the heavens and looked outside again and decided to try to make my way toward it. I gathered the debris of my life in an old supermarket grocery bag and struggled out of the car toward roundish figure–a grey mass of stone with a dirty bag full of other people’s stories I imagined. I dumped the many wrappers of tacos, fries, a giant burrito and a large vanilla shake onto the pile. I stood there almost as if someone asked me to say a few last words over a departed friend. I felt empty, lost, and broken. My life was in that wastebasket. It was what I was and all I’d ever be.
My life continued to mirror that night over and over again until a good friend of mine put a stop to it, I talk about what she did for me on my bio page here and in one of our clinic videos here. It’s not hype, hyperbole, or BS when I say she saved my life. I wake up every day and think about that night. Not because it was surreal but because I had never felt that level of desperation until then.
For me, helping others battle this disease of obesity is a calling like no other. If it turns out that I only help one person to lift his or head in confidence or be able to run and play with his or her kids then that will be one fewer person lost to this disease and I could say I made a difference.
People say to me “I’ve tried everything and nothing worked….what makes your programs so different?” I answer very simply “I know what your struggle is, I’ve lived it and I will be there to support you until you reach your goal”.
Always remember that nothing will work without the positive support of those who genuinely care about you. If there are people in your life who are bringing you down they either need to get with program or they need to leave. I was fortunate in my life to find that positive encouragement and support in the sea of negativity and hatefulness.
This may sound odd but it doesn’t matter to me how you get healthy. What matters to me is that you get to where you want to be and that you enjoy your life. You deserve that.