The first year after Mary left, was taken, disappeared, I needed to be as close to her as I could be. At first wearing her clothes helped, keeping the pictures of her up and around, I thought would help but it didn't. Listening to her music hurt worse. I was not in control of my life. Yes I know no one is truly in control. That's probably why religions tell you that god is in control. I think it's a way to not take responsibility for you actions. But..... I did take control of the only thing a person can control 95% (nothing is 100%) of the time - what I ate. I wanted to weigh what Mary weighed, 100 pounds. She's 5'4" and I am an inch shorter so I knew it was possible, mainly because I wasn't hungry.
I got down to 105#. My doctor and friends didn't like seeing me at that weight. But I stayed there for awhile. Last year I got back to 120#, bought new clothes, even started wearing makeup.
Now I have lost control of even that. I am eating no more than I have been for the last year and yet I have gained 12 pounds in 4-5 months. My clothes have slowly gotten tighter. I have been eating the same amount or less. But less slows down your metabolism. So with the new year I started walking on out treadmill. One hour up to level 3, 2-3 times a week. Still gaining.
Here's the worst part, my hip muscles are having spasms, I can barely walk, and am on pain meds that don't seem to be helping. All from exercising too much. My last vestige of phantom control, gone. My doc is checking my thyroid level. If it's off then there's an easy fix. If it's not, more tests. Meanwhile I may have to start wearing baggy clothes.
Danny couldn't really control what he ate since everything affected his heart. But he controlled when, where, and how long he slept. Doesn't sound like a big thing but every little bit helps.
My little bit is gone, at least for now.