How Did I Get Here?: Part 12

When last we were here, I was speaking about jumping back over that 300 lb. mark and giving over to the addiction, yet again.  I was growing wider.  Not as quickly as before, but wider nonetheless.  My wardrobe was a vast array of sizes.  Some I hoped to return to and some I hoped to leave behind.


Unlike previous times, more so when I was over 400 lbs., I was active socially.  I would go out two to three times per week, sing at karaoke and got caught up in competing in the contests that were held.  My old ways resurfaced.  I was sitting at the bar, drinking beers, always with a Southern Comfort on the rocks as a sidecar, a wedge of lime squeezed until wrung out entirely, floating in the elixir.  I'd order dinner, an appetizer or both.  I was smoking a fair amount (You could still smoke inside back in those days.) and healthy was just a concept gathered from those freaky people I went to the diner with, who ordered egg white omelets and dry wheat toast.  


As for the singing, I was feeling more confident than ever and although I was rather self-conscious about my appearance, the adulation I was receiving from my audience was enough to make me suffer through my self-loathing body image.  I was always getting requests, drinks bought for me, compliments like, "You should be on American Idol." or "Do you do this professionally?".  It fed my ego and I needed that compensation for my self-consciousness about weight.  It wasn't always basking in the glory though.  There was one time a woman approached me, fairly attractive and obviously a little drunk.  She was telling me how good she thought I was.  Then she got onto to how handsome I was.  Then she looked down at my sizable gut, asked me why I was so fat and why I didn't do something about it.  Ever wonder what a balloon might feel like when blown up to the point of sudden explosion?  My ego went through that exact sequence of events, ever expanding until... POP!  Back to reality.  I told myself someday I would be thin but this bitch would still be a rude drunk.  At least I had the temerity to say, "Ooookay... you're drunk and we're done talking.  Time to run along now."  I also told myself I needed to stop wearing those tan slacks.  They weren't very slimming, were they?  HA!  What would be, short of a chainsaw?  


Contests were a real thrill for me.  They would hold weekly preliminary rounds in the various stores of my karaoke bar of choice, Tiffany's. (Now, Tiff's thanks to a frivolous lawsuit by the jewelry schmucks.)  For twelve weeks, at each of four locations, they would pick a semifinalist.  The forty eight would then be culled to twelve and go for some fabulous prize.  Back in the old days, circa 1992, they would give away maybe $200.  This was a trip to Napa, complete with airfare, hotels, car and tours of three different wineries!  WOW!  Not too shabby.  


I had always been very methodical about my contest approach and chose my songs for maximum impact.  I suppose those strategies paid off, because I was rewarded with the grand prize and was off to my dream vacation; sun, food, wine and free...all words that speak deeply to me.  Especially, the free part.


Being a single, lonely guy, I chose to bring my friend T with me.  T and I shared a love of music and gluttony that was a kind of codependent psychosis.  We had a fabulous time, eating and drinking our way through Napa and Sonoma.  Along with our private tours were meals with the vintners or their minions, free samples of great wine and keen insight into the mastery of the art of wine making.  I truly developed a deep love of wine on this trip and found myself buying, cellaring and researching bottle after bottle for my new hobby.  When I got home from my trip, I purchased a small wine fridge to properly store my cache.  Add another high calorie habit to my list of vices.  Just what I needed.


I continued to eat, drink and smoke my way through karaoke nights and after a year and a half of contest intelligibility, I was back in the fray.  Three weeks prior to the finals of this competition, I quit smoking in an effort to be in peak form.  With infrequent exceptions, I never went back.  I managed to win another grand prize and it was done up big, complete with judges from the New York radio station 95.5 WPLJ, ABC news weatherman, Bill Evans and a guy from the Food Network, Bobby Rivers.  What made it very bittersweet was that the next morning after my triumphant performance, the scumbag, self-important, shock jock from PLJ, decided to make fun of my weight to the largest drive-time audience in the country.  Honestly, I wasn't up that early to hear it, but my sister was.  She was kind and was veiled about the exact verbiage, but just knowing it took place was mortifying.  Chalk up another balloon pop in the life of yours truly.  The fact that this pious, talentless, butt-munch felt the need to humiliate me in the name of his comedy schtick was enraging.  


You would have thought it might make me wake up and fly right, being made fun of on such a grand scale, wouldn't you?  Well, there were fits and spurts of attempts, but none that took root in a life changing way.   Obviously.  Otherwise, we wouldn't be here now.  That's addiction for ya.  Humiliation is not always enough to drive you to rock bottom.  Even if I thought I was rock bottom at times, the problem is that when a rock hits bottom, it often bounces back up.


Next week we will discuss how a new job and frequent travel/trade shows does not bode well for a man of extreme size.   


Thanks for reading,
M


What I ate Friday and how I exercised:


Breakfast ~ Kashi Island Vanilla cereal and unsweetened vanilla almond milk
Lunch ~ Business lunch with my old bosses.  Two 7-grain sushi rolls, miso soup and salad
Dinner ~ Out with Tab and I ordered waaay too much.  Mussels marinara and a broiled seafood trio.  I ordered some soup which I did not eat and have to admit I also sopped some bread in the mussel's broth.  The broiled seafood trio was also splashed with some sort of wine sauce, which I am sure was not healthy.  I'm not proud of this meal and let's just say I paid for it this morning.  I hope the scale is forgiving, come Monday.