There are many reasons and bags of chips, sour cream, soda, scallion cream cheese, and fries to blame for this. I lacked all control and was spiraling downward into a depression that was bigger than me.
On my Graduation Day in May 1996 my father told me he was dying.
The truth is my father has been dying since the day he was born. He was obsessed with good and bad health and didn't treat his body in the right way. My father was 6'7 and weighted almost 400 lbs. He was a mountain of a man and his personality matched his physical stature. He ate what he wanted and his only restriction was keeping Kosher.
When he told me he was dying it was different this time. His eyes were glassy and his face flushed. He had high blood pressure, Diabetes, and high Cholesterol.
But I was 23, and at 23, your dad who is 58 is invisible. Your 6'7 father is larger than life itself.
But he wasn't and he had a massive stroke 6 months after I graduated college.
I was already engaged to my now husband of 17 years and my father was permanently disabled by the massive stroke that left him practically speechless and immobile on the left side.
I buried myself in food. I loved my fiancee but I had no love for myself.
The UGLIEST truth
It was a Monday and I was working at Penguin Putnam in the village. For lunch I took myself to MacDonalds and ordered 2 Big-Mac Super sized meals. I sat down and started to eat. A co-worker runs in (to this day I still do not know how Catherine O'Shea found me) and told me that I had to go to Scarsdale immediately. My mother had called and the time had come. Dad was dying.
What changed within myself?
I buried my father in 1998 and I was a newlywed. I was surrounded by the love of a man who didn't care that I was HUGE. We moved to a 4-story walk-up in Park Slope, Brooklyn so I would have to walk myself to health.
If you stop at the top of each of the stairs, who cares? If you have to stop in the middle of the stairs, it doesn't matter. He stood by me and let me find myself again slowly.
Since that day in 1997 I have never eaten MacDonalds, Burger King, or any other depressing fast-food again. I reclaimed myself.
One day at a time.
One pound at a time.
One inch at a time.
I am now standing as a SUPERHERO does. That was hard to tell, hard to face, but important for understanding my journey to better health.
This is Sean and I on our wedding day - 1997 - My personal heaviest. 23 years old.
Seven years later ... 30 years old.
It is a JOURNEY. I will be on it for the rest of my life.
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