back at them; at least, that was my case, after the expanse of my gutsgot bigger than it had ever been intended to be and when I took upmore space than I was ever allotted to take up, I still thought I lookedgreat. But, back in 1974, at the age of fourteen, going on fifteen, atfour hundred something pounds, I felt just fine, until my mom stuckher nose into my fat problem. I thank God she did, and she knew how
to get each of us kid’s attention. Geneva Bradley was definitely the
smartest person everywhere she went.
One day, I was walking out of the high schooland my mother was waiting outside to take mehome. I was happy and bounded down theschool steps. I got in the car and my motherlooked at me and said,
“Steven, you shake like abowl of jello when you walk.” It was those
words that had hit me like an arrow through myheart, and I had(Steven 12 Years Old) repeated them over and over and they made me angry and determinedwhich was why today, I was leaving school early on this Mayafternoon in 1974. The result of that afternoon appointment at
the doctor’s left me with a bottle of diet
pills that would eventually take me from a forty eight inch waist to athirty-two inch belly in the short space of three month and it almostkilled me.
Those days were the moments when I first really started to work onwriting out my experience of trying to stop looking like a giant humanball. I was taking three times more each day than the doctor hadprescribed, and it gave me an overdose of energy and I could not sitstill. So, I wrote down almost everything I did when my self-prescribedtwo pills a day regimen seemed to be doing the trick.