Emotional Eating, Trauma, and a 311-Pound Weight Loss Transformation | LifeLONG

50, 50.

I've been sitting with that number for a week now, turning it over in my head.

You know, when I was young, I never pictured myself as an older person.

There was no image of it.

I couldn't, uh...

It just didn't exist.

And, and when things were at their worst, there was no future at all, just the next hour and then the one after that.

There was o- one particular night I wanna tell you about.

I was 21 or 22.

I was over 500 pounds, and my legs were so swollen with edema that they produced two kinds of pain at the same time.

There was this deep pressurized ache from the inside, and on the surface, the sensation that my skin was splitting open.

Now, I would find a position that helped ease that pain for a few minutes, and then the weight of my own body would force me to have to shift, and any movement in my legs was agony, and I'd have to check them for wounds.

I was convinced that they'd actually torn open.

And at the time, I couldn't sleep lying down because I couldn't breathe lying down, so I had these couch cushions propped up against the back of my bed, and th- and enough of them to keep me sitting upright for whatever sleep I was gonna get.

It was just usually a few minutes at a time.

Heroin helped with all of that.

Heroin dissolved time.

There was no past, no future, only the present, and in those moments, the present was numb and soft and bearable.

And on this particular night, I'd just gotten into as comfortable a position as I was gonna get, and it occurred to me plainly that I probably wouldn't survive the night, and I remember being okay with that.

I had nothing to look forward to.

I hadn't slept in a long time.

I was in a lot of pain, and the thought of just not waking up seemed like a relief.

I, I actually think I welcomed it.

Now, what's strange is that I, I remember that so clearly, and I also remember going to bed last night genuinely excited about today, and that's where I am now.

That's what 50 looks like from where I'm standing, something that would've been completely unimaginable to that 20-year-old propped up on couch cushions hoping to disappear before morning.