In the beginning...

Luna welcomes you the the Fat Lane.

The Fat Lane is a place I've been in and out of since, well, what seems like forever. Truly, my "hard core" Fat Lane days didn't really start until I was in my twenties. (I'm in my 40's now.) Up until then, I drove on and off of Chub Boulevard. You know 10-15 pounds up and down? I always managed to get things in control, until...

I found myself married to a sweet man with serious mental health issues who refused treatment. His unstable life style made it impossible to have a normal relationship. Back then, I thought married was forever, so despite trying for years and fighting him to medicate and stabilize, I checked out. Not physically, but mentally. I was miserable. I became a resentful care-giver, and honestly felt more like I had an unruly pet, rather than a husband.

I know this may sound brutal, but I truly, TRULY did try to help this man for years. Trapped in this situation, I became frustrated, and of course, TEMPTED for a better life, the life I should have had as a woman in her mid-twenties. While my friends were enjoying their life, I was tracking down my missing husband, dealing with his erratic lifestyle and poor choices. He faced hospitalization 3 to 4 times a year and we had countless crazy, irrational situations and arguments. What would you do if your husband spent $200 on toys in a minute market? What would you do when he argues because he thinks he can control the television with his mind? What would you do when you get a call that your husband is picking fights at 2AM at the local gym, claiming he's picking seashells on the shores of Australia? Probably something like I did, I escaped.

I shed the shackles of marital woe with FOOD! I eased the pain of loneliness and also made sure I was not attractive to others and not be tempted if another man showed me attention. That's right, two birds, one stone. And it seemed to work, kinda, sorta, except I was slowly dying inside.

Relief was to come in a most unconventional fashion. When meeting with my then husband's psychiatrist, and pleading him for help, I was the one to get a prescription. He handed me a note that said "Get a divorce." I was shocked, but listened as the doctor explained that at 27, I was living the lifestyle of someone 67.

I couldn't go anywhere, I couldn't do anything. I had a great job, making a great living, and was basically housebound. All my choices were limited by my husbands choice to refuse treatment. The doctor then pointed out that I was FAT - and he was right. I weighed exactly 117 pounds MORE then the day I met my husband.

I was on the Fat Lane, and while it has been many, many years, that was the first time I medicated (unsuccessfully) with food. Once on the Fat Lane, it's very hard to steer clear. I'll tell more about what lead me to where I am now.

Luna