In the photo on the left I’m at the Guggenheim Museum in New York City unable to bend my fat body into a seated position. I remember distinctly how hard it was to sit there so my son could take a picture.
On the right, I’m jumping up on a ledge so my son can take a photo of me in a crazy Star Trek shirt I found on top of a dumpster.
Look at the difference in my knees in these two photos and ponder how this can be the same person.
The first photo hurts my heart. It was always a dream of mine to see this museum. It was built the year I was born and my dad loved it. He always said he wanted to go there and never got the chance before he passed away. So now I was finally there, and so sick and obese that I could barely move.
Here is another photo of me on that same trip thinking I was going to die in a NYC Subway station. My son @blxphabet took this one too. He was sobbing in fear. We were stuck between flights of stairs of the subway station and I could no longer move. He already pushed my up many steps to get this far. When I got to the landing and saw many more stairs to go - I was done.
My son said, “No Mom! Why do you want this picture?”
I wanted it because I thought it might be my last photo. I was so scared and I wanted him to remember me if I died. My boob is holding the water bottle up so I could get to it. My arm had no strength. I couldn't breathe. The wall is holding me up. That’s not pee between my legs – it’s sweat. On one of the coldest days ever, I am sweating like a pig and want to rip off all my clothes.
"Take the picture, son. Just take the picture."
Why did I think this would be a good picture for him to remember me by?
I already wrote a post for this contest about how my obesity caused my son’s PTSD and you are seeing one of the very moments that happened to him.
In a few minutes I recovered enough for @bxlphabet to continue pushing my huge body up the stairs. He was behind me - pushing with all his might. I was slowly taking each tremendous step. The whole time, I was thinking I would crush him if I died trying to get up the long, long flight of stairs.
But I lived.
And I lost “Half My Size.”
I want no other parent or child to go through what we did. This is why I do what I do.
Here is another photo @blxphabet took. It is my signature pose of victory. He took at after I just swam laps for two hours while he filmed me.
When I post this photo in weight loss groups, the most common response is for someone to tell me they wish they could cross their legs like I’m doing. Then all the other obese people chime in and say “Me too!”
Currently more 4 out of 10 Americans are obese. Eight hundred thousand Americans die each year with their cause of death listed as “Obesity” on their certificate. I so easily could have been one of them.
I consider this to be genocide. I do everything I can to stop it. I mostly do this for free. I'm in close to 100 hundred weight loss groups and forums. I post day after day to try to convince people to try and lose weight. I show them my old misery and my new-found vigor. I say the same things over and over and have them in a file so I can copy them and save time.
Anyone can lose weight if I did. I know it. I see it happen for others all the time. All you have to do is:
Get over your excuses and take action
This is my entry for the MY-NICHE contest by @awolesigideon with the theme of "My Niche".
Last week I wrote about my first time being thin for the contest entry. It was not any easier than being fat. The best thing I can tell you is to lose weight as early in life as you can. It's best to get it over with so you can move on.
