Growing up, there were two things about my looks that people mentioned. First was my smile, which was said to light up rooms. The second was that I was just generally handsome. Not like model status, but a decent-looking dude. Little did I know that the very idea of my appearance, not only to myself but to the world around me, would be tested in ways that would rock me to my very core. This is the tale of my body dysmorphia hell.
Where It Started
If you have checked out my other content, you know that 15 years ago I was jumped and shot in the head, forever changing my life. However, I wanted to discuss here more what happened to my body after the shooting, but first a bit more about me.
When I was a teenager, I was a heavier kid. I was 6’ 1, around 235, and lived for years on a farm, so I was a big, hardy kid. However, I was fat. I wanted to change this, so around 18 years old, I lost a lot of weight. Going from 235 pounds down to 175 pounds. Just a simple change in diet did most of the work. At around age 20, I started working out more and got up to around 185 lbs. I was in rather decent shape. And, oh boy, was that all about to change?
The Damage
On that fatal night, 15 years ago, my life changed in many ways forever. However, the way that most impacted me overall was the long-term damage the four or more months of hospital stays and the following year of recovery did to my body and, in turn, my psyche. It started with the gunshot wound being in the mouth. This had a domino effect on my body:
- Due to constant surgery on my mouth and body, I had to be bedridden and my mouth wired shut so no more damage would come from walking, eating, or talking.
- Due to my mouth being wired shut, I had to eat through what was called a G tube, or Gastrostomy tube, which is a small tube inserted into the stomach, and food is pushed through it to bypass not being able to eat through the mouth.
- Eating through a G tube is rough, to say the least. It is an all-liquid diet, and the meal replacement drinks feel like a brick is just laid into your stomach. And as a bigger guy, I did not get nearly enough calories this way, and by just sitting in bed for months, I wasted away due to a lack of eating enough and atrophy.
- To be clear, the staff at the hospital did not do anything wrong. The weight loss came mostly from the atrophy, but the lack of food was due to how much I could handle through that tube. Nothing more. Regardless, it was bad. I had no idea how bad it was until I was weighed after going to the ICU after a serious surgery. The nurse told me I weighed 129 pounds. My mind was blown. My body was ravaged.
My Birthday
This was the first day in over a month that I was actually able to eat something through my mouth. The doctor had said that since it was a special occasion, I could have a little cake if I had my mouth cleaned shortly after. My family and closest friends came to the hospital, bringing cake and ice cream to celebrate. Like, 15 people showed up. It was awesome.
I still could not chew, so they smashed up ice cream, milk, and cake into a bowl, made it liquid enough to put into a giant syringe, and shot it into my mouth. I kid you not, when I say that feeling of something—food—going down my throat—such a simple, human, and yet powerful feeling of eating—it was one of the greatest and most euphoric feelings I have ever felt. To this day, it is a moment I will never forget.
Going Home
I finally got to go home to my parents's place to recover. At 129 pounds, I can hardly walk due to a leg surgery, and I must relearn how to eat as half my teeth and part of my tongue are gone. I had to start all over. So, I did. After months of healing up and learning how to walk and eat again, I returned to work at an electronics store. I was still pretty messed up looking, and it was very apparent as there were constant remarks and stares from coworkers and customers alike. I even scared a few children by accident. I felt like a monster.
This feeling did not go away anytime soon. And this was actually a big part of the reason why I started to drink. About a year or so into my life outside the hospital, I picked up drinking as a coping mechanism to deal with how I looked. I kept trying to work out and get into shape, but soon the alcohol won. This would run my life and change how I felt about myself for a long time to come.
Eight Long Years
As alcohol took over my life, it destroyed any gains I had made while I was working out during this time. I stayed slim, at around 150 lbs. Still too skinny. And due to this and my drinking, my depression about how I looked really kicked in. This is where the hating mirror's part came into play. I could not stand mirrors. It was just this constant reminder of what I lost and will never get back. Something as important as being able to eat normally, talk normally, or just look normal was stolen from me for no reason, and I absolutely hated it. Mirrors were nothing but a reminder of that, and even today I struggle with not seeing Frankenstein's monster on the other side looking back at me.
So, I hardly used them, and when I did, it was quick. I did not pay my face or body much attention in mirrors. Everything was grotesque, everything was deformed, and it was just ugly. I hated myself. For 8 long years, I honestly thought I was a monster, and I carried myself as much. Sad, lonely, and pitiful, I was not a ton of fun to be around once I became too drunk. Which was often. I tried to hit the gym again, but with all my drinking, I hardly got anywhere physically. It was not until I got a DUI at the age of 28 that I eventually went to jail, and I have not drunk since. (I cover that event more in my other blogs.) It will be 7 years in August 20204. My new life really started at the age of 30, and I have not looked back since.
30 and Beyond
If I were to say that being sober was all rainbows and sunshine, I would be lying. The struggle is real and daily. However, as far as my body dysmorphia was concerned, this was my time to shine. I was weighing in at 160 lbs. Super skinny still, and just not physically that strong. I was still afraid of hurting myself with my new leg wounds from surgery and was still learning how to maneuver around the missing pec muscle. Overall, I had all of this to deal with, and now I was sober, so dealing with the following feelings was all part of it too.
By going to the gym almost religiously, I started to see changes in my body. I was new to lifting and was not keen on looking up information, so I did not really know what I was doing. I just did basic exercises and got basic results. However, results were coming. I started to get stronger, more confident, and better-looking. A big part of getting used to mirrors again were the mirrors at the gym. These windows into what the future had to hold, or, in other words, the "pump,” showed me that if I kept at it, I could get into a better, stronger version of myself. Through time and training, my physique changed, and I got into a shape that seemed at least adequate—let it be skinny—and I was weighing in at 165 lbs. Little did I know a friend's advice on coming to lift with him would change the trajectory of my life forever.
Realizing What Strength Actually Is
The year is 2020. It is New Year's Day, and I am declaring that this year is going to be mine. Nothing can stop me. Little did I know what was coming, but that is another story. Me thinking that I was going to be unstoppable this year, I had my right lung spontaneously collapse on me at work on the 6th of January. Stopping me in my tracks and causing me to go into another bout of depression due to yet more hospital stays and more surgeries. After recovering, I was at work, and one of my coworkers saw me and wondered why I was so down. I explained the situation, and he asked if I wanted to come work out with him. So I did, and he got me into the world of strength training. Deadlifts, squats, and benches were now my new home and hobbies.
Since I had quit drinking and was now doing some real, guided training, my body blew up. I suddenly got stronger very quickly and was gaining mass like no other. My coworker was a physical trainer in his off time, so I was learning tons from his knowledge on the topic as well. This changed my life. The body dysmorphia went down so much that I started trying to date again. I had muscles; I was fit and strong. This new confidence was what was going to push me forward for the next few years. Two years into this, and after gaining another 10 pounds of muscle and finally hitting 175 pounds, my coworker asks me, “Have you ever considered doing powerlifting?”
The Art of Powerlifting
Resistance training was just the beginning of my fitness journey and path to destroying my body dysmorphia. When my coworker mentioned powerlifting, at first, I thought it was a joke. I thought, “I am not built for powerlifting. Have you seen those guys?”
I was a skinny, 175-pound dude who had never lifted competition style in my life. But with my coworkers' help, I decided to give it a go. And it was one of the greatest moves I ever made in my life. I got immensely stronger and bigger, and I started gaining more weight while staying fit. It was fantastic. Then I competed in my first powerlifting competition and took first place! Everything about this decision made my life better, and the old me, looking at Frankenstein's monster, was dead and gone. Recently, I finally broke 200 pounds, something I have been dreaming of for a decade. I am stronger than ever, healthier than ever, and more confident than I ever thought possible after everything I had lost.
The Conclusion
At the end of the day, after all of this happened, here is what I hope anyone can take away. I had my body destroyed after having what was considered a decent-looking face and physique. I was left with almost nothing and had to start all over. However, through hard work, determination, and a mindset that just getting by was never good enough, I prevailed. I wanted anyone reading this to realize that I personally am not anything special. If you hate mirrors or just how you look or feel about yourself, this can change. There is no miracle pill or procedure to fix it all, though. It will be hard; it will be painful. You will cry, and there will be moments where giving up feels like the best choice, even though you know that's never an option.
For, as our motto says, with strength and wisdom, we overcome.