Just a quick post. Nothing serious this time. Today marks four years with the weight off. Ten stone, or 140 pounds, and not once in all those years have I relapsed, faltered or messed up. I’ve given up more than I can remember, gone through more than I’ll ever tell and I still have ways to go. But today I want to write to a very special person, someone who took a chance and changed their lives, this isn’t a letter to the fat-days, this is to the progenitor of the, what should we call these days? The Jack days? The Harvest Days? Days filled with hope? Maybe that’s what I should call my diet plan: A Diet of Hope. There’s the title of the post at least. So let me have this moment of silliness, readers of mine, it’ll be back to normal around here soon.
Dear Me, Six Long Years Ago.
We’ve never been one for letter writing, have we? Short and sweet eludes us altogether too often. There are just some things I want you to know. This is the internet so let’s do it in bullet-point:
Firstly, thanks for taking the chance and looking into coeliac disease. That wasn’t your only problem, but it got you started. I don’t envy you the withdrawals and the clawing, desperate hunger, but you get through it somehow. Trust me, you can live without a lot of the food you thought you needed.
You’ll be called an inspiration. Yeah, us, I mean, what?! I can’t tell you the amount of kindness I received, even from strangers. I’m still the same person inside you were, but I’m working on being more confident. You never knew what you could accomplish if you just gave yourself that chance. Not to say it’s been easy, but it’s been worth it.
You have a blog. Yeah, Mr. Anti-social. I’m still congenitally shy, but I’m taking it all on my own terms. No more having others dictate the pace and ending up getting hurt. You’d be surprised how many people I’m reaching with my recipes. All those French recipes you learned paid off, they taught you well. People are really kind and supportive.
Your feet shrunk. Yeah, freaky I know.
Dude, I’m going to lose my readership, but it has to be said: Pooping is really great.
You have a kitchen garden now, more vegetables and fruit that you ever needed. Not only that you have plans for the future. You’re into DIY now, that big store of ideas that rattled around your lumpy head is getting used. You’re not half as green as you thought you were cabbage looking. I haven’t done myself a mischief with the drill either. It’s going to be beautiful, there’s a peace there, in the evening when everything is still, the world carries on but the garden is frozen for a few wonderful brief moments in the dusk.
I’ve gotten into Japanese indie Bands. Thank Go! Go! Hypergrind for that. We never could like something mainstream, could we?
You lost more weight than you ever imagined. Remember when you got your first tattoo you thought it’d stop soon after that? Nah, you went further than that by a lot. You also got a second tattoo. A literary one just like you always wanted.
There’s probably more, but there’ll be other times, more anniversaries. Just know that I’m grateful, you asked yourself one question, whether it was better to sink or swim, to live a living death and to fade away or to take your chance and burn out if needs be, but you’re still here, maybe more than ever. It’s not easy, our life never has been. But I’m still here. Thank you for that.