Zepbound

I recently started taking a GLP-1. For my weight. When I was younger, I was a rail. I started slowly gaining weight in my twenties, after I left the army. I’m now roughly weigh twice a human I did during that time. It stymies even me. “How did I get here?” I ask myself. It’s no mystery. I once maintained a natural portion control that went out the window sometime in 1993. I recall exactly when it happened and why. Anyway, the Zepbound’s starting out well. It’ll be a few weeks before I start to see a noticeable weight loss, but a change in appetite is already there. My nephew Michael ordered pizza, last night; I normally love me some pizza and self-control goes out the window when pizza night comes alone, so I tried to stuff myself and got kind of uncharacteristically ill from eating less than my normal pull but more than I should have eaten with the Zepbound, which should’ve probably been no more than a slice or two. I had three to begin with, then took a nap. When I awoke, I had a couple more and liked to have died. I was already feeling stuffed, but I crave pizza when it’s around. I now know better, having learned an important lesson.

In the years since I started putting on the pounds, food’s become a substitute for love, I guess. One for a lot of things. It fills a lot of holes in me, so I keep stuffing myself with it and won’t stop ‘til I can barely move. When I was a kid, we didn’t have a lot of it around, so that’s part of it, but hand-in-hand with that came that personal frugality I’d mentioned about the portion control thing. It was kind of an automatic endeavor to save food as much as it was to control food intake. I don’t think I actually thought it through at all. It was mostly about what we had on hand and to help it go around for everyone and to not hog it all one’s self, I think. Once I lived alone, I didn’t have to worry about feeding other mouths, so…  I recall digging into something, one evening, to lighten a heavy heart, though, and after that, I just didn’t care. Now, though? Is it about my health or vanity? I think I’m too old for mainly vanity, but I think I’d like to hear a compliment or two, even at my age. But I’m looking forward to moving about easier, feeling better more than anything, yeah. Because, now, I feel like shit. Just stepping outside for a minute kills me. I can’t live like that. Things must change.

My great-niece is worried that the GLP-1 will make me sick, somehow, but I’ll not worry about side-effects, as I’ve already been wracked by side-effects from every medication I’ve been on since time began as well as what they’ve treated, so to all that I shrug. Maybe it could do this, could do that, but so could this other thing I took and another thing I currently take and I dunno; they help keep me alive or in some form of better health, though with chance some poo might crop up. I have to risk it. The risk is worth the benefit to me. One of my antiseizure meds potentially fucked with my bone marrow; I had to have its levels routinely checked while I took it. It also messed with my vision and the thickness of my hair. But it controlled my seizures. Thanks, Tegretol.

We’ll see how this Zepbound works. I’m pretty excited about it. I’ll be dead sexy when I’m done. At least I’ll be able to check the mail without getting winded.