All my life I’ve been a lean 160 pounds at 5’11. When Covid hit I was recovering from a psychoactive episode and was placed on medication, specifically Resperdal .5 mg paired with Prozac. This helped my anxiety tremendously, I went from breaking down and sobbing to grabbing life by its balls- Resperdal also got rid of 90% of my HPPD so I would stop seeing visual snow & tracers as well as other hallucinations- but despite this I managed to pack on quite a bit of weight. At the end of December 2020 I was 190 pounds, and felt happy! Unfortunately those around me did not see it that way, I was astonished.

My father would look at me in disgust, as if I was walking around with vomit ridden shirt and shit smeared underwear- every day he would point out my weight, at the end of every conversation. He would also constantly ask me the dosage of my medication and tell me to reduce it. Instead he insisted a take a drink each night instead like he does. Yeah. I was appalled and I grew depressed, so I talked with my doctor about getting rid of Resperdal. It gave a lot of headaches and nausea but eventually I was able to stop taking it, but by then I was faced with another problem, Alcohol. I had gained an unhealthy addiction to Alcohol, at it’s height I was able to take down an entire bottle of 70 proof Vodka in under 4 hours. Yeah, I had a problem. My weight skyrocketed my weight to 235, by now I was considered Obese.

Here is a 1 year before and after comparison. (I’m a big car guy BTW!)

Even though I was happy and fulfilled others shamed me for my body, even people I’d never in a million years expect too- close friends and family all reminded me of how much of a fat fuck I was every single day, which was ironic because more than half of them were nearly as overweight as me. They had lost all respect for me, even though they remained close they would shame me for being fat. Often I would play along, nearly every time- and laugh it off, haha yes you’re right! Haha yeah but I’m exercising now! How will I ever get married in my shape? The absolute worst of it was people that said they were looking out for me and reminded me every day how fat I am. Yes, I know. I’m fat. I get it, you don’t need to constantly repeat it.

Now I understood. I understood why overweight/obese people had higher rates of depression and anxiety, and it’s because of ignorance and lack of respect, lack of love.

Fuck them. I don’t need their approval. For the longest time I realized that I was just trying to impress everyone, and make everyone around me happy- no. That is the wrong way to live. If I was happy being fat who are you to come and tell me what you think of me? I no longer give a fuck. When I started to lose the weight I had gained the people who had told me I was fat now were telling me of what a good job I was doing and how good I look- fuck them. I’m not doing it for them, I never was and I will never hold the same respect for these people as I once did, the real people I have around me are the ones that didn’t remind me, the ones that treated me the same and minded their own business.

This was such a big moment and experience for me, it made me realize that all my life I’ve put others before myself, they don’t matter as much as I matter to myself. My body is my own, and I accept it. I accept my weight and my skin, I accept my body. I am grateful and appreciative of my body. I love my body, and nothing can make me feel otherwise. Once you stop holding others opinions of you so high you will skyrocket, and that is what I am on the path to doing.