Don't Give Up Hope
There was a time in my life when I had given up all hope. In fact, there were many. It got worse as time went on to the point of wanting to and attempting to end my life.
I didn't think I was able to change anything to make things better. I was at the bottom of the barrel. I felt hollow and empty inside. Nothing made me happy anymore as much of what I tried to fill my life with was just a substitute for happiness. Eating, drinking, and substances were just a way of escaping from the pain which always came back afterwards making me feel even worse each time.
This went on for years until I had a wake up call. When my father found out that he had terminal lung cancer (after already dealing with colon cancer) he told me that he wasn't afraid to die. Much like me, my dad filled his misery with substances - cigarettes, drugs, alcohol, and poor eating. Initially he was told that he would have a year and a half to live. He passed within 3 months. Those months flew by as I watched the toughest man I ever knew wither away into a frail, sad, and helpless shell.
The cancer that was eating him ate away at me too. I watched in awe and total denial that he was going to die. I still remember having to carry him out of the house to go to the care facility. Carrying my own father, the man who carried me in his arms when I was a child as my family watched this scene with tears in their eyes.
The day that he passed away was the worst day in my entire life to date. I watched him struggle for his last bit of life, eyes bulging from his head, as my brother and dad's best friend held his hands. In those last moments I saw something in those eyes as he laid back in bed. It was regret that he didn't try to change. He was just 63 years old.
At the time I was 40 years old and weighed well over 400 pounds.
I was experiencing many health issues such as sleep apnea (for which I used a CPAP machine), high blood pressure (taking medication), pre-diabetes (having to check my blood twice a day), and other related co-morbidities.
The day my dad died I told my mom, "We need to learn something from Dad's poor health habits."
I was not going to let his death be in vain.
I could not save his life. We tried for years begging him and encouraging him to change. In the end, his life and how he lived it was his choice and responsibility.
But I could save my own life, not just to honor him, but for me because my life was worth it.
And I did.
So here I am, exposing my most vulnerable feelings to the world, not for any glory or praises, but in hopes that I can pass on this gift to all of you. Some hope that you can change the things in your life over which you have control.
Losing over 200 pounds on my own, albeit a difficult task, was not impossible. But that was really only part of my story. Because in the end, my story was my triumph over the adversities in my life. These are the things I am sharing as I am a growing. I am a human becoming...
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6moGreat share Michael. Look forward to learning more from you.