The Importance Of Making Your Own Lifestyle Change On Your Own Terms
If you’re starting out to lose weight at this time of the year then you’ve probably been told that you need to make a lifestyle change in order to succeed otherwise your attempts are doomed from the start.
The term ‘lifestyle change’ is pretty vague by it’s nature but if I was to associate an image of what that change construed, then it’d be something like this.
You must become a healthy, beautiful, sexy, vital yoga cunt. Constantly happy. Pissing out Evian spring water in the way God intended. It’s purity or nothing.
If you buy into this shit then you’re likely to feel quite alienated, especially if like me you are a scowling, Northern, block headed wanker.
Sometimes you’d have more success by starting the New Year with a new head.
I knew if I was gonna have any chance of changing my life for the better, I had to create my own lifestyle change.
Here’s how I did it.
- I learned to enjoy exercise on my own terms – I hated exercise in school and believed that all runners were dicks. I’ve remained a jogger as I base my life around it in a fun way. I don’t go out on a run to punish myself. I do it because I know that it’ll make me feel better. I don’t push myself to the point of exhaustion. I take breaks. I accept that I can only become stronger by making better choices in my life. That’s why I’ve ran the Las Vegas Marathon 2 years in a row. I love combining the idea of a slightly decadent lifestyle with a healthy one. It’s a balance I’m still trying to get right, but I’m working on it.
- I’ve started to like myself – I wouldn’t say that I “love myself” unless I’m in the middle of an 18 hour stroke-fest over pictures of your mother dressed as Mother Tersea, as there are still times where I am a bit of a cunt. Before I started on my own lifestyle change I was constantly angry at myself for even existing. I hated who I was as I didn’t match up to society’s idea of the modern man. I had a shit body and a wacky head which didn’t help. I’ve since learnt that self hatred is a waste of energy, especially when you can channel that energy into hating other shit outside of yourself (such as the society that’s trying to reduce you into a state of desperate self loathing so that you’ll hoover up all of their cosmetics, health food and other bullshit).
- I’ve taken responsibility for my own life and health – I lived by that “You Only Live Once” motto bullshit for so long that it was sad. I drank and ate myself into such a shitty state that the only life I was living was fucking depressing. I thought I was living defiantly, but inside I felt so bad that my life was more of a whisper. I used to blame everyone and everything for feeling like shit, but it was all my own fault as I was constantly poisoning myself with whiskey and kebabs. Once I started reducing my intake of that shit I felt much better.
- I’ve accepted that I’m entitled to my own emotions – If I can’t feel what I’m feeling, then the chances are I’m gonna go and get drunk and then fucking express those feelings but in a much more destructive way. That’s why I don’t mind talking about so called ‘negative’ emotions. I’d rather let my emotions rise to the surface than repress them constantly and join the KKK in 10 years time dressed like my aunt. Fuck all of that macho cunt shit.
- I want to live my own life – This is important as I spent most of my teenage years wishing that I was someone else. Some people will say “get a life” to you and what that really means is “I don’t understand you. Why don’t you get my life?”. It’s arrogance and ignorance combined. You shouldn’t feel any shame in being yourself unless you’ve been shoplifting in thrift stores to fund your crossdressing habit. That’s why I always respond to those sort of comments with “No thank you, I’m not interested in getting tattoos on my tits and/or fucking the mailman.” I wanna be the best version of me that I can be.
- I’ve created my own meaning to life – I don’t think there is any specific meaning to life. In my fat and angry days I’d rage against God for not existing and quickly became a nihilistic fucker who was making his own life and other peoples a misery. The turning point came when I understood the implications of there being no God. First of all there is no-one to be angry at. Secondly we’re all alone on a spinning ball and no-one has a fucking clue what’s going on. That’s why my meaning of life now is to have fun and to take absolutely nothing seriously.
- I still eat junk food but I’ve come to terms with the fact it makes me feel like shit – More importantly I’m not gonna accept the label that I’m somehow weak for liking burgers and hating salad. Fuck off. That said, I am not winning or proving any points by eating McDonalds 10 times a week. I like the idea of having the choice to eat junk food. If I had to eat ‘clean’ for the rest of my life, I’d start having pizza, heroin and bourbon for breakfast every single morning.
- I’ve accepted that death is inevitable – I know I’m going to die and I can hear the clock ticking in my head which helps me make positive decisions with regards to my health. I don’t want to look back and rue all of the shitty lifestyle choices I made. I don’t want to die young or any of that fucking nonsense. There is nothing romantic about having to trail my prolapsed liver out of my rectum like an angry tail for the rest of my life.
