This is the fourth anniversary of Mom’s passing. I missed saying goodbye to her. I was 30 pounds in on what would be a nearly 80 pound weight gain journey, all of it driven by sadness and struggling with CPTSD. I was 310 pounds on the day Mom died. I learned to mark days like today, because even if I didn’t consciously remember, my body would remember. Just like I remember the things that gave me CPTSD. But also gave me deep memories of joy. Memories of everything.
By June 17, 2023 I was at 350. By December 2023 I was at 361. Being big and heavy isn’t a crime. Despite what you think and may have been told, you can be quite high on the BMI scale and be fit as a fiddle. If you’re exercising, have good HDL levels, normal blood pressure, you’re healthy.
I wasn’t healthy. I was morbidly obese, with my blood pressure going up, with no exercise, with my cholesterol rising. I was on a path to the same heart and brain diseases of my parents. I was on the path to my own as well.
And it was driven by a giving up. I gave up on my life once when I was 7. And then almost again when I was 9. I made a conscious choice at that age to never give up again. I’d never contemplated taking my life since then. But in hindsight, I know now that the giving up I experienced was my unconscious way of reconciling my rule against suicidal ideation with the deep desire to vanish. I could vanish by becoming so big that my heart would finally break.
My heart was physically breaking in December 2023. A mysterious afribulation that was not related to obesity. Chaotic heart rhythms. Weighing less would certainly help. The concerning thing was the diagnosis of pre-diabetes. I was moments away from needing insulin shots.
I was killing myself in slow motion. And once I saw this consciously, I knew I was breaking a sacred rule I made when I was nine. By February 2024 I was actively working to get my health back. The healing of my mental health and my physical health became one. That was the month I started a novel I knew I’d finish. A novel I’d need to convince myself to apply to writer’s workshops. I didn’t want to go anywhere in 2025 with the start of one. I wanted to go with one taken almost as far as I could take it on my own. Yale in 2025 would be my dream choice. I kept this quiet. My mentor taught me another iron-clad rule, one echoed from friends when I was in college. Talk about what you’ve done, not what you’re doing.
Last year, I took the week off from work. It’s June 17, 2024 and I’d lost 40 pounds by that point with one simple rule – lose no more than 1-2 pounds a week. Go slow on purpose. Teach myself how to eat again. How to cook again. How to live again. How to get up early again. Find new things, like the joy of a five minute spa in the shower, which is enough time to luxuriously scrub your feet like a pedicure technician.
That was the week I knew I had to take a real break. And knew I was going to quit. I was both myself, but also just behaving like a miserable bastard sometimes. Gossiping at work. Trash talking people like my colleagues did. ME! I was acting like a narcissist! Mistake after mistake that I’d still be able to own and say, me still able to apologize, but me the victim of the story at work. Me, acting like someone else even as I’m healing. I had to go. I had to reconnect to myself. I’d leave one month later, and a stroke of luck would happen then.
I didn’t know this on June 17, 2024. I just knew that slow, simple, deliberate change was working. I wasn’t trying to lose weight. I was trying to eat healthy and teach myself better habits. I was a few weeks away from finishing the first draft of my novel ‘Kluuj of the Keep.’ But not yet.
It’s today. June 17, 2025. I’m on the third draft of ‘The Immortal Flower.’ The plot has changed several times, but the story stayed the same. I weigh roughly 229 pounds now, which is about five pounds away from me no longer clinically obese. I had so many food choices in New Haven, and it’s just normal for me to eat smaller, choose healthy, and walk around.
And today? I chose today with intention. I came back from New Haven a few days ago. I’ve let myself take a breather, to let the last chapter end. To specifically START today.
And I did.
A plan to do just two things for a while.
1. Write, with a focus on doing the work, marketing and publishing.
2. Find a job and go back to work, but with writing having all the space she wants. I love her too much to ever short change her again.
Keep up the good habits. Do art projects. But all through that lens. It means probably no improv or acting for a while. Just focus. Instead of spreading thin, luxuriate in the two things, engage in other stuff as a hobby, spend time with friends.
Today’s task was getting organized. Some new writing materials and a few things. Choosing pieces to work on. Focus. I had a job interview that went hilariously off the rails due to an internet connection that went bad the moment I said hello. I jumped on the call my usual fifteen minutes early, it was fine, then it froze when I said hello. Same thing with my iphone. They rescheduled for next week.
Day 1 is down. A purposeful reset, done because this is the day mom passed.
Tomorrow is day 2. I’m looking forward to all of it.