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These seemingly minor “cheats” trigger a manic feeling that leads him to believe he doesn’t need his meds, and eventually he ends up back in the hospital to be stabilized … again. It’s a repetitive cycle for which we’ve all gotten used to and accepted for the last 34 years. One day talking to him by phone I found myself getting a little preachy and impatient about taking his meds, accepting and doing what is best for his health and well-being so that he could live a normal life, maintain relationships, and hold a job. He yessed me as expected.
But then I reflected on the difficult lifelong path he has had to navigate. His illness is one in which he needs to be consistently strong and disciplined to keep himself healthy. Then I started thinking “who am I to judge?” Like he with his manic episodes, I’ve had a lifelong battle with my weight and I was not exactly succeeding. I constantly fall off the wagon, succumbing to the social pressure. The only difference is that being overweight doesn’t affect my ability to hold a job, and have relationships, so there isn’t the stigma attached. What if I had to apply the same perfect discipline to myself concerning my weight that I expect him to apply to his mental health? What if using the excuse “My metabolism is slow and I can’t lose weight” held the same severe consequences my brother is dealing with in his situation?
I decided to put myself to the test. I had already started the “Can’t Lose Diet” for a strict 40 day fat-burning phase where I absolutely could not touch a drop of alcohol, sugar, or carbs and had a severely limited food list. No cheating, no taste of this or that. No grey areas, just black and white.
During the 40 days I endured skepticism, questioning, and social pressure , but I didn’t cheat, even once. I sat at bars with my seltzer, went to parties where I passed on the appetizers, brought my own food on the golf course, and more. I never hid away and went to every social occasion and abstained. I lost 20 pounds as the diet promised. It wasn’t a cakewalk, but I kept telling everyone—it’s only 40 days. It’s not forever.
But what if it was forever? My most enlightening moment came when I had to socialize without drinking. I now have so much more empathy and understanding for how hard it is to stay engaged and not succumb to temptation. It’s not easy to take responsibility for our own health and well-being, but I found that I’m now addicted to feeling really, really good. And it’s not just the weight I’m talking about. I feel energetic, clear-headed, motivated, balanced, less stressed out. I don’t want to do anything to disrupt that feeling.
Sherry Bruck lives in Westchester County.
