Well before anyone debates further about what works and what doesn’t, I should clarify the origin of the weight gain. This is a long and detailed time line:
November of 2012
I was “diagnosed” with a mood disorder and prescribed a cocktail of medications. Initially the doses were low but I quickly felt the cognitive side effects: a significant loss of energy and inability to concentrate. At this time I was in pretty good shape for a beginner - 195lbs, 315lb deadlift (grip was weak point), 260x5 squat, 225lb bench press, 145lb overhead press (was stuck for a long time) and about a 33" waist. Not big numbers but I feel I was really on track to a good future - in graduate school for a PhD program in aerospace engineering (hence my name), good letters of rec and references/network, and of course in good shape.
Fast forward a few months:
Initially the weight gain was only like 5lbs or so since the doses were low, but I really wasn’t feeling better and doubted the need for any medications. At this point since I was lacking stamina I stopped going to the gym as frequently but still maintained the same weight…replaced some muscle with fat. This lack of “progress” with the medication lead the “doctor” to prescribe more medications to “treat” me and this is where things got ugly.
Summer of 2013
I started gaining weight fast. I went from the 195lbs in the above paragraph to about 220. I was gaining an average of 1-2lbs a week with no diet changes. When I brought this concern to the “doctor”, I was told that “I would get used to it” and “my body needs to adjust”. At this point in time I was so tired that during my summer job I would go into the break room and pass out, twice I slept for two hours through my lunch. In a backwards way I was lucky because I worked second shift and regularly did not get out until 11 when not too many people were around. I was also slipping badly in school and with working out. I just did not have the energy to do much more than go to work, sit on the couch, and sleep. I was also losing my ability to think creatively, which I began documenting extensively. My self confidence started slipping. I started feeling like a useless person. I had to drop out of classes because I couldn’t get the work done. I tried to commit suicide twice, believing that the series of events had ruined my life and everything I worked for. I’m not convinced they haven’t to tell you the truth.
Fall of 2013
Still on the medications. Went up to a 36" waist, lost a lot of strength. I could not accept that I would have to leave graduate school. I was working on a topic I absolutely loved and wanted to devote my life too. Against my better judgment and through some bad advice from the “doctor”, I reenrolled in the graduate program. I did not realize how significantly the medications were affecting my cognition, memory, and energy levels as I had a terrible time organizing my thoughts. I ended up dropping two classes but staying in one. One day I took my “medication” at the wrong time by mistake and passed out in the middle of the professors class. Literally, my head fell down on the desk and it was lights out for an hour. I woke up, walked up to him after class and asked him to talk. I explained my situation and he was empathetic. I’ll never forget what he said “I know you are a serious student, and I figured you were having difficulty since you sat in the back and didn’t ask any questions.” Looking back on this class, I am so ashamed of the quality of my work. Thoughts were all over the place, writing was poor and incoherent, handwriting was messy (well, my handwriting was never great, but this was pathetic).
Winter of 2013/end of semester
By this time I could barely fit into 36" pants and weighed in at the low 230’s and began developing stretch marks like crazy. I had been sleeping about 14 hours a day with chronic levels of fatigue due to the medications. I ended up with a B in the class because the professor really liked this final project I wrote on Brownian motion and filtration. But embarrassingly I failed every exam and only came out with B’s on the homework. Once again I consulted the “doctors” about my situation and the answer they provided me was “It may take several years to find the medications that work for you.” At this point I knew I had to get off of everything. I knew they were lying, and I knew they weren’t out to “help” me. In a very sad set of events. I left graduate school and returned home.
Winter 2013 to Spring of 2014
I was home. Miserable and still gaining weight. In a fit of rage I got rid of all my medication at once except for one, which helped me fall asleep at night. At this point I think I posed on T-Nation I was around 235, again with no significant diet changes. I went up to about 260 by the Summer. I was training very aggressively with “German Volume Training” and got my lifting numbers up to where they were in 2012. My waist size was 40". I worked like a starving tiger on steroids to find a job. Despite the fatigue, the depression, the loss of whatever moral and confidence I had. I took my ass to the library and wrote a few hundred resumes and called owners of company’s and managers personally making employment inquiries. I did get a job in March and started in May. Things got really bad between my father and I. My experiences in graduate school had made my patients with any sort of nonsense…nonexistent. I hated everything.
Summer of 2014 - March of 2015
I start my job and begin the long journey of self rediscovery. I went off of everything by August and my weight settled at a cool 260lbs. I found a really great strongman gym and began training there. My upper body strength exploded and I discovered I am really good at carries. My deadlift also shot up to 365lbs after only a 3 months retraining it after 1 year off. My waist size hasn’t changed but my body shape did. I get a lot of complements on my shoulders, traps and upper chest, but my self confidence and hope for my future is nonexistent. A lot of these “accomplishments” feel hollow and I really don’t have a sense of self worth. There were some pretty dark times and serious considerations of “the end”, but they passed. I think the word for this is “jaded”. I’m still full of these disgusting stretch marks and have this gut that hangs over my waist, though my abs are as solid as a rock. It took many months for the side effects of the medications to disappear: forgetfulness, fatigue, tingling in the lips and face, inability to concentrate, difficulty thinking abstractly and creatively, muscle spasms. I was on BP medications for awhile but quickly went off them and incorporated cardio into 5/3/1 and improved significantly in that department.
April 2015 to Now
Now, I’ve been doing some heavy introspection. Looking into ways I can improve myself and figuring out if I can get back on my feet. It feels pretty hopeless, I doubt myself every day and I have a bad habit of changing my plans every week because I just don’t have faith in them (I know it isn’t rational), but I’ve been reading lots on developing organizational skills, self improvement, planning, time management, financial management, etc. I’ve been trying to develop clarity in my goals, one of them being to lose weight and get into the shape I was in 2012. I doubt with my added muscle I can get to 195, but I think 230 is a good first goal. I think the medications screwed my metabolism up and my body might still be recovering. This is one reason why I have been doing a lot of flip flopping on weight loss, and why I am doing everything I can to stick to this plan. Truthfully though, everything feels a little empty. I just don’t enjoy the work like I used to anymore. I doubt if I can go back to school, I doubt if I can lose the weight, and I doubt if I can get strong if I wanted, even though I’ve gotten told I’ve got “genes to squat 500”. I guess I just don’t have the motivation like I used too. I don’t have the enthusiasm and energy like I used too. I don’t want to work hard anymore, but I am not an idiot and know that isn’t an option, so I am forcing myself to move forward and hoping the 2012 engine starts up again. I really just want a vacation from everything.
The last time I lost significant weight I just picked a daily calorie requirement and stuck to it. I don’t think it will be that simple this time around.