I'm Allergic to Being Fat

I have noticed that a lot of people on this site are still having issues with letting go of all the dietary baggage they have accumulated throughout their lives. So many awesome people, full of advice and encouragement, that secretly battle themselves on a daily basis. Friends who have reached out for some tip or trick that will get them into the right frame of mind when faced with hard choices. I guess it is time to reveal my secret weapon for getting control of my mammoth food addiction.
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Now before I let this big ass cat out of the bag, I want to make sure that you will share this secret with absolutely everybody you can. Especially if they just can not get their brains to understand what they are trying to do for their bodies. The spirit can be willing but the mind certainly has a knack of overruling any good intentions the spirit may have. It is not the spirits fault. It is just the fact that if the mind is not on board with the change, it ain't gonna happen. That is a fact. The mind has to be ready to be in the same place. But sometimes the mind has to be tricked in order for it to submit. Let me explain.

A couple months ago, before I joined the site, I had gone to the doctor to get the results of some recent tests. I hate needles and don't like giving blood of any kind. That stuff is supposed to stay in my body! So the fact that I submitted meant I really wanted to know what was going on inside and how much damage I had done.

As I sat nervously in the waiting room, I over heard this poor guy talking about his many ailments. Not only was he one sick dude, but his allergies to certain foods made it nearly impossible for him to eat out. According to him If he so much as smelled certain things he would go into anaphylactic shock. I just sat there and held a silent vigil for this guy and the cross he had to bear.

Soon it was my turn and I slowly made my way to the scale. I hopped on and the number was announced by the nurse. It felt like her voice reverberated through the whole goddamned hospital as she said "351.5 pounds". I half expected for a record needle to go off the grooves and everybody stop to stare at the fat ass with no self control. She could have kept that to herself, but I wasn't angry with her. It was just one more affirmation that things had to change. The second affirmation would be staring me in the face shortly, I just didn't know it.

She guided me into the exam room and told me to have a seat. Fortunately I am not old enough to worry about the "Big Probe", so I got to keep my clothes on and my back door closed for the time being. I was also grateful I didn't have to wear the dreaded gown. I hate those bloody things! They're like a fashion statement for exhibitionists. You would think with all the advancements in fashion someone would tackle that whole, "Ass Flash" situation and redesign the blasted thing. They never have them in my size either! Their is no dignity to be found when your backside is waving in the wind.

As I waited for the doctor (we'll call him Doctor House), I started reading all the informational posters on the walls. That proved boring so I thumbed through the Reader's Digest that someone was nice enough to leave behind for me and caught up on some Quotable Quotes. Just when I was about to fall asleep Doctor House walked in and starts looking over my chart. The prognosis was not good.

He pulled no punches and with the bedside manner of a sledge hammer, proceeded to give me the brutal truth. "Mr. Newbold, do you realize that you have GAINED weight since we did the tests only 3 weeks ago?".

Really?! Crap!

"You also have High Blood Pressure, High Cholesterol, your Testosterone levels are low and you are borderline Diabetic."

Double crap!!

"Your gonna have to get it together or you will die within the next 5 years. You will probably loose a limb or your eyesight to the Diabetes first, but you will eventually kill yourself if you do not change something."

Jesus Doc! Don't hold back please. Tell me what you really think!

I asked him what I needed to do to start "getting it together" as he put it and he tossed some pamphlets at me and suggested I join a weight loss group and develop an allergy to unhealthy habits. What? Wait a minute! Eureka Doc! That's it! He hit it right on the money. I went back to my encounter with the poor slob in the waiting room, the one with all the problems.

He couldn't eat a bunch of things because he was allergic to them. If he ate them he would die. So his mind set was that there is no choice in the matter. Pretty black and white. Then things got really black and white for me. From that moment on I had convinced my brain that I was now allergic to unhealthy things. As if the doctor had told me that very thing. Like some sort of diagnosis.

So it was it was simple. Don't give yourself an out. Do or die. No other option. You can't make excuses when you don't have an out. Your back is against the wall and you will do anything you can to survive.

Well now you know my big secret and has been for the last couple of months. I have to say it works pretty well once your mind believes it. When I am faced with those old pangs, my mind now reminds itself that the "Doctor" said it is allergic and then the craving goes away because there is no choice. My mind would rather survive than have some momentary lapse of reason and pay the price for it later.

The greatest thing about it is that I now have an excuse for not eating something that I did'nt fix. I don't hurt peoples feeling and I don't have to explain anything. I just simply say "I can't. I am allergic." Just like Asthma got you out of PE in High School, this little gem will get you out of some serious dietary jams.

Thanks Doc.