It began in the 4th grade when I left my dad for Iowa because of my mom’s divorce–my brother got mean, and I became reclusive, and eating was my past time; I would even eat whatever was in the refrigerator–so what? Well, pickles, old fries, heads of lettuce with lots of expensive dressing, candy, imitation crab salad, the list goes on. I became bad summers when there was nothing to do except read or watch TV. I gained 30 lbs. a lot for a 12-year old boy. In my sophomore year, the first year of high school, and I dropped 35 lbs. in one year. I had discovered girls, and in my Junior year, I found a High School girl-friend, and I wanted to do stuff–after the first kiss, it was smooth sailing, my first kiss of the girl, boy ever. She was thin, almost sickly, but pretty. She was experienced and I was not. But, on her front porch one night, well these stories go on. That was in 1967, and then college in 1969. I left her and floundered in college always thinking about her. The young women I fell for after showed weight gain, the exact opposite, a little over, say 15 or 20 lbs, and then I got emotionally sick after college. There were four years of therapy, as many hospitalizations, a wrong diagnosis, leaving for grad school in which I had to prove myself the first semester to be admitted, and in the second year, a young woman who was to become my wife. Soon we moved in together, and in 1982, we were married the same year I graduated with two advanced degrees. I worked for three months as an instructor at the university, then took my second job and continued to drink heavily. The first six months of our marriage, she warned me that if I continued to drink there would be no marriage, and she too show4ed some weight gain. I began to gain beer weight, and after five semesters of teaching in Nebraska, we took off for Colorado, and the Rocky Mountains, me in a doctorate, her in a doctorate. She left hers first to take a job she’d held before as Claims Rep for the Social Security Administration, and I was gaining more beer weight, drinking all the time, offered a change to an MA because they claimed I couldn’t cut it. Soon I left that school to drive twenty miles daily to Ft. Collins and attend Colorado State in the MA creative writing. I was drinking daily and pulling A s, maintained a 4.0, and lost my TA the second semester, took a light load as the MA became an MFA, and I entered my final degree program, sober but overweight. Eventually came finishing the MFA, a move to Illinois for another teaching job, and a final warning not to discuss my personal situations. We had a baby girl, and the move was tough. I maintained thirty lbs overweight.; I lost the teaching job, we left for my wife’s home state, and I began moves to part-time teaching. Eventually, I began work in fast-food restaurants and gained more and more weight. In my checkered teaching past were more than 15 schools and an eventual relegation to no teaching including a summer at Navajo Community College while my wife completed her MA thesis about drink Navajo men and Navajo wives who dealt with sometimes intolerable situations. My great, good, gracious, and fine, excellent brilliant wife had begun a career at the VA where she succeeded before she retired at the top of non-management job scale, and I quit all teaching at age 58. I was about 80 lbs overweight and gaining, but I did not drink. Finally, my doctor told me that I’d better lose weight or else. He scared me into pushing the food away, and I lost 65 lbs in six months. My therapist warned me that I’d better not lose anymore, so I stopped about 15 lbs overweight. In the course of the next seven years came three times of near-death experiences, growing up late, maintaining weight first about fifteen lbs below normal, then gaining back some losing some, and settling at about 15 lbs above normal with two titanium knees, disability of 19 years, a pacemaker, damaged kidneys, lungs, and heart, and finally chronic pain from Ankylosing Spondylitis. Yet, at age3 66, I’m satisfied with an exercise program, and I’m losing weight again. One knows when age comes on, skin sags, and cataract surgery gives back unbelievably good eyesight. I know, according to my doctor, that I’ll probably live into my 80 s, and I’ve kicked my destructive habits of drinking, smoking, overspending, and overeating. At 66 I’m happy, I’ve been married 36 years, with her more than 38 years, and my final leap, giving her space, and dealing with my anger, the anger my most destructive single most difficult behavior to deal with, and after losing weight, maybe, just maybe, I can leave the 11, 13, 14 year-old-boy behind, and become a responsible man leaving my daughter in the loving and inspirational friendship with my wife as my daughter, after earning an MFA in Japanese and Asian translation, and now pursuing her doctorate in Japanese literature/comp lit, following in the footsteps of dad and mom, loving me from a distance which I deserve. With maybe, just maybe gaining ground on that most destructive eating force, anger. Leaving mom some space, I exercise, eat better, use my camera as the creative tool adding to more than 61,000 digital images taking pictures every week, and writing for my third self-published book. This is where elgwyn gets off, and God takes control. I have finally after more than 31 yrs claiming some kind of Higher Power, come to stand in awe of Jesus Christ embracing my heritage, loving my family, embracing my 88-year-old father in every way I can from South Dakota to California. I believe God loves me and will keep me beyond the End.
Published by elgwynone
I was a University and community college instructor before retiring. I also worked in fast food restaurants, and retail stores. I am an ordinary man writing for because I want to write and because my education prepared me to write; BA English lit, MA English, EdS higher education, and MFA creative writing, free verse poetry and essays. Blogs are an answer to high-priced self-publishing. Walt Whitman had to self-publish his first 1000 copies of the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass because in 1855 poetry did not sell. Most poets make a living in other ways than writing. Wallace Stevens was an insurance executive, and TS Eliot was a banker. Many writers teach, and always there have been writers who have written because they needed to express their thoughts and feelings. They wrote not necessarily to make money but to express "the old universal truths of the human heart" according to Faulkner. Here I reach a wider audience I missed than by self-publishing, and I stand a better chance to reach a wider audience for less expense than self-publishing. I self-published my first books, Winter from Spring, and Meditations on Gratitude; poetry and photo books which were easier to self-publish than to seek a not to seek a publisher company. This blog allows me to write for an interested audience because I write poetry and personal essays. I write for a friendly audience and present to you a slice of my writing. Perhaps you will enjoy what you read. View more posts