Diary of a Fat Man

The grass is always greener

By Published: Apr 27, 2012 at 2:24 PM PDT Last Updated: Nov 20, 2012 at 1:16 PM PDT
The grass is always greener

I don’t know how much I weigh. Flesh Wizard told me last night that I’m “looking like a skinny fucker,” which seems kind of mean, but it sounded vaguely jealous, so I took it as a compliment. Other than that, I have no information whatsoever as to my current weight. This is unreasonably scary to me.

 

This week has been way better, diet-wise, though. I ate 2-3 times, every day. A super accomplishment for a man with boobs, I know, but I’m pretty proud. After Monday's update, I got shit from multiple people about not eating enough. It’s kind of funny that "not eating" is a sign of a dietary backslide. I mean, I agree with them; it’s really dumb to not eat if you’re trying to lose weight. On the other hand, I cannot begin to explain how good it feels. I really can’t. I spent 20 minutes rewriting this sentence before I gave up. Not being a complete slave to hunger, or food, or whatever chemical god controls that part of my brain, makes my eyes brighter. I don’t know.

 
I should never, ever meet anyone in recovery; they would tear me apart.
 
I had boxing twice in two weeks for the first time in way too long. I cannot believe how good it felt to be that sore. My lungs were burning, and I was too exhausted to feel anything but content. I think I’m going to call my punch buddy up to get something going tomorrow; the best I’ve felt recently is when I’m that worked.
 
I get my scale back tomorrow, though. And I’m kind of terrified.
 
It was scary not knowing, but not half as scary as finding out I lost half a pound, or gained weight. I’m actually kind of losing my shit about getting that little fucker back.