I was banded in alma, Michigan, on November 16 of 2004. I weighed 366 pounds at my heaviest, when I started the pre-surgery diet required by Dr. Cudjoe.

Today, as I sit here before this bright window on the world, I weigh 266 pounds.

One hundred pounds. Exactly.

Part of me sings, part of my spirit soars on wings of joy at this loss. My step is lighter, my rest more peaceful, my diabetes is, for now anyway, in hiding. I can wear a 44 men's pant, as opposed to a tight 54 a year ago.

I can hug my wife (well, I could hug her if RSD would let me. Horrible disease.) I can buy my clothes at the normal racks. I can take advantage of sales.

Still, I was down a hundred pounds a month ago. And this summer was a blur of grey shadows for I had slipped into a deep and dangerous depression.

I thought it was my challenging life. And it is challenging. But it wasn't that. I thought it was the stress of my job. But it wasn't that either. I thought I was grieving my lost freedom as a caregiver to a chronically ill person. But, of course, it wasn't really that either.

Day slipped into day, and it all felt like night. The only thing that changed was the calendar.

There's a machine inside each of us. A robot, if you will, who is very good at pretending to be you while the real you is adrift, becalmed on a sea of despair.

I showered each morning, I drove to work. I returned. I did the laundry, kept the house, cooked the meals, and kept all my wife's doctor's appointments. Even now, as the light begins to shine once again in my little spiritual prison, I can't remember any one day. Maybe, for me, it was all one day.

And I knew something was wrong. I knew I was in trouble. And I blamed it all on my life, my wife, the weather, finances. I blamed everything but the truth.

I would endure fits of anger at myself for not being happier about what I had. A good job, a wonderful spouse, and a one hundred pound weight loss when I thought I had been fat's prisoner for life.

I really don't know what did it. I really don't know what opened my eyes. But I came to realize what was really happening.

I was grieveing a loss.

You see, I am a murderer. Just about a year ago I killed the only friend who could comfort me through times of strife. Days of sorrow. But he wasn't really a friend, for while I was being comforted I was also being murdered. Slowly, coldly. My friend was smothering me in warm cozy layers of fat.

I miss my drug. I miss eating half a pie, and washing it down with a quart of ice cream. Then repeating the procedure. I'm not just addicted to food, you see. I'm addicted to the act of eating. And, through constant toil and practice I made my stomach just like my heart. Something that could never be filled. An emptiness like the black core of interstellar space.

He cries out in me still. His ghost lingers on. I see him. I hear him. I hear that siren call "Eat....Eat.....Eat.....Eat". He sings his destructive song in my ear still. Even now he calls to me.

Thank God I know his face now. Thank God I know his name. The Enemy is no longer invisible. But he is strong. And.....I am weak. Thank God I have a band. It lends me the strength of science. When I weaken, when I succumb to the hypnotic cry of the gourmand, it lends me it's strength. It's wisdom.

Yes, science treats my symptom. I alone must face the disease. But, a hundred pounds down, and sixty odd to go, I can fight longer. I have longer to heal. And I got that hundred pounds back from my addiction. That victory will always be mine.

If you've read this far, you have my admiration and condolences. Thank you. I wanted to share that haveing the band doesn't solve your problems, it gives you a breather to work on them yourself. It's a tool. And any tool that lies unused is worthless. Use it. Fight. I'll fight beside you. We all will fight together.

It's never to late to become what you might have been.

Ryan.

Wow....this was very very powerful~ Thank you for sharing it. I can relate to so many parts of this. But as I read it, I dont see the "murderer" that you mentioned. I see and hear about a HERO...Someone saving themselves! Every super hero has some sort of tool belt....Batman had that tool belt, WonderWoman had the bullet deflecting bracelettes...You and I have the BAND....

Congratulations on your sucesses!!

Okay. I'll go along with that. But there is just one thing. I'll wear the Incredible Hulk underoos, but I absolutely will not wear one of those spandex super hero costumes. Too many Northern parts have travelled South as the pounds left!!!!

TOOO FUNNY~ Who ever created spandex should have a lobodomy!! Well, actually I have to admit, it does come in handy in girdles, and stockings...Spandex is quite useful UNDER regular clothes...holds it all together....

Sheeeeesh. Maybe I should get some and wear it under my clothes. I'm starting to feel like an empty tube of toothpaste that got squeezed in the middle!!!

OH MY GOD WHO ARE YOU!!!! YOU ARE TOO FUNNY!! I dont think you and I bumped into each other here before - I certainly would have remembered you!!

I have only lost half of what you have and I am getting that "bowl full of jello" feeling. I feel squishy...

I was just thinking about that earlier today

Incredible Hulk underoos

Those demons, our day to day life... I say "what's next" to stop the train and get off.

I feel so close to goal but so far from comfort and true happiness.

We'll always be fighting, once something is fix, another will break.

On another note, were you able to enjoy your bike this pass summer?

Porclindoll I remember you. You joined in like January, I was winding down a bit. I was up to my a$$ in alligators from January until June, and then, well the first post in this thread tells it.

Vera:

Yes. Shift lean. Shift dream.

I found moments of peace and thoughtfulness as I rode to and from work. Didn't get to go on any rides other than one day......

Got out of work early, and the day was hot. Peeled off the uniform shirt and went for a ride in white t-shirt and black pants. Covered by my trusty leather vest.

The road was friendly and the bike rumbled like thunder in the hills. All of nature flowed above, below and all around me as I purred down a two lane blacktop. A long and winding ribbon of grey.

My mind found that place that is peaceful, a place where the wind blows just enough, and the storm is gentle, like the friendly murmur of rain on the rooftop.

Highway work stopped my progress and I sat in the middle of tarmac Hell, a target for a cruel midday sun. One motorcycle in a line of traffic three miles long on US 10 just outside of Clare.

Then the driver's door on the SUV in front of me opened. The man (who didn't look much older than I) stepped around to the back of his truck and opened up the hatch door. He reached into a cooler and brought out two freezing cold bottles of Water.

He handed me one. It was the most heavenly liquid I've ever drank. He told me of his days riding a bike. He told me of his trips and adventures. And how he'd given it up because of age. He noted we were about the same age.

I drank his water, and I owed him something. He'd approached me, a black leather clad stranger on a large motorcycle. He'd showed me a kindness, and I wanted to give something back. "Go out and get a bike. When you were young you knew about speed, and thrills and adventure. Now you know about life, and trials, and joy, and you understand the Zen nature of a motorcycle."

He nodded. "I sure do miss it."

Then I said the word that bikers know. It's part of their private language. "Priorities". He knew what I meant. Stay alive at all costs. Don't go through the motions of life, job, family, car, house. LIVE. Never forget to live your life.

I finished the water. He took the empty bottle and I turned and headed home. On this day I had gotten the lesson I needed.

AWE WHIPPLE....Thats so sweet...your right, I did join in January...Im sorry but if its not right infront of me every day, I tend to not retain things so good~ But your here now and your an awesomely strong person!! And you ride a BIKE what could be cooler than that!!! Looking forward to many more great conversations with you!!!!

Dude.............you just sang my song! I too, have felt that I have lost a friend! Somedays more than others. Time heals all sorrows..............time is ticking! Thanks for the inspirational testimony! So true...so true!

whippledaddy, it's people like you, those who have gone before that I try so hard to learn from.

I'm just four almost five months out. Someday I feel like I could CLIMB THE WALLS because I just want an old fashioned pig out like I used to do. It was never a GOOD way of dealing with problems....but it was a familiar way.

I haven't yet found a good substitute.....sometimes I use coming to LBT, sometimes other things. But none give me that instant gratification feeling.

Tonight I had dinner with some friends. I had a good bandster dinner and my friends got a dessert to share. I had a few bites. I can honestly say that the ice cream and brownie confection didn't taste good to me. In fact....it was downright unwelcome. I know that it just wasn't worth it so I put the fork down. Where did THAT come from? When have I EVER turned down brownie and ice cream?

So like you...I find that the demon still dances inside of me....but the band....it keeps me honest.

Congrats on your upcoming bandiversay and on your incredible loss. And on being a person who is self aware enough to realize what matters. You are a guiding light for me....shine on my friend.

I'm glad to see you back Ryan. I think I speak for most of us when I say we miss your poetic diatribes. Your words paint such poignant and beautiful visuals. That's a great weight loss you've tallied! Please try and remember, when life's darkness creeps up on you, there's always a warm light on here. LBT has served me well this past year, I hope for you, we can do the same. Congratulations to you!

Moon, I just try to be honest with myself. It was because I was less than honest for so many years that I got so fat. I thought I was hungry, my body wasn't hungry for all those binges, but my heart sure was.

Landry's Dad: We've all walked the same path. The actual details might be different, but the journey is the same. Good luck with yours.

Porclndoll: Don't worry, if you look at our profiles, our paths didn't cross much.

Ryan that was beautiful.... And today on one of my bad days that gave me a little bit of hope. I cant wait to be 100 down. Its so pathetic but i miss food. I sometimes miss it so much. I have to now deal with my issues. And i never had to before i would mask all my emotions with food. Its depressing. Today im depressed..... and i want to sit and eat. But your right "We all will fight together"

Kim

wow you're quite the writer - I'm amazed... I couldn't put my finger on what I missed so much about 'pre-band' life - the act of eating.

Thanks Hulk.

As usual Whip, a great post!