u/Grumpy-Quokka

Today I cried on my exercise bike. I think lots of us cry at times. This time, I cried because I was hit, out of the blue, by a wave of intense grief for my mom, who died over two years ago after a long and difficult illness. The grief was fresh, as fresh as the day she died. And as upsetting at that was, it made me realize something. This has happened to me before.

In my adult life, I've been a lot of different sizes, from fairly thin to quite heavy. Each time I've gotten heavy, it's been associated in time with a period of trauma or depression or grief. In grad school, it was being harassed by my advisor, becoming depressed, and losing two years of progress towards my degree. In my 30s, it was my dad's cancer and his rapid decline and death. In my 50s, it was a recurrence of depression (related to pandemic stress) and then my mother's illness and death, all happening in quick succession. In each of these periods, I gained weight in part because of the effects of some of the antidepressants I was taking, in part because I neglected my health (and let other chronic conditions get out of whack), and in part because I ate and drank to avoid feeling some of the awfulness I was feeling.

Each of these times, I've eventually focused on losing weight (each time it's gotten harder, much harder, and that's why I have been grateful to have access to Zep this time around). And each time, I've discovered that the awful feelings I was trying to stuff inside me were still in me, and they started popping up as I lost weight, unexpectedly and not always at particularly convenient times. In my 20s, that meant that I was periodically overcome by inexplicable feelings of white-hot rage (if you've ever been harassed by a boss or academic advisor, you can probably imagine this particularly vividly). In my 30s, it was a combination of grief and anger about losing my dad and the things I wished we had resolved in our relationship before he died. And today, I sobbed on my bike like a little girl who just wanted her momma back. Each time, the feelings have been as vivid as the first time I felt them and have come up entirely without warning. Like this morning, I was just getting on my bike for a routine workout, feeling good, enjoying a spring morning with the windows open. And then wham! A big boulder of grief slammed right into my heart from out of nowhere.

I'm fine -- I realized what was happening and just let myself cry it out and then I finished my workout. But I know that for those of us who have a history of burying our emotions in our bodies in this way, it can be really disorienting when they are "uncovered." The emotions can be so intense and frightening. But for me, I've learned (thanks to some help from a therapist in grad school) that it's not a setback, it's not a failure. It's my body and mind trusting that I'm now in a place where I can handle the emotion that I shoved away years ago. It doesn't tickle, but I can handle it.

I don't know if this is like your journey at all. In fact, I'm sure it's not at all like many people's journey. If this does sound familiar to you, though, I want to add a little voice of support from an internet stranger, and let you know from my own experience that it can be good to chat with a therapist to help make sense of what I know can be really intense and painful. But also I just wanted to say to you what I said to myself this morning: "Your body remembers, but you can let this little part of the grief go. Your body knows it's safe to let go of this part of it now. You're going to be okay." 💕

I couldn’t find a flair that fit just right, but as a newbie to this sub, I tried and hope it’s ok.

So I’m a psychologist (I practiced as a therapist for years, then focused more on research and teaching/training others), and after 6 months on Zepbound, I’m finding myself fascinated and also quite challenged by the psychology of it. (Important note: to me, “challenge” doesn’t necessarily mean “bad,” just something difficult, sometimes uncomfortable, requiring adjustment, which often leads to positive change or growth.) Some examples include:

- The “space” left in my head without food noise, and how to be intentional about filling that space, not just zoning out on social media or tv (which was a bit too easy for me to do at first — I have an anxiety disorder and it’s easy for me to seek to “blunt” or “mask” the anxiety in these ways).

- Coming to grips with my ambivalence about getting smaller, because I resent this culture’s tendency (I’m in the US) to equate “small” with “pretty and feminine” for women, and also because I feel vulnerable when I’m smaller, thanks to past trauma (and yes, I’ve had plenty of therapy of my own for that, but getting smaller means I am revisiting some of those feelings in real time).

- Having to develop new strategies for managing my grief/fatigue/sadness/anger related to the last years of my mom’s life (being her caregiver then her estate’s executor), because pre-Zep I used emotional eating and alcohol as coping strategies too much, but Zep basically eliminated both of those. (So far journaling and exercise have proven to be useful substitutes!)

- and gosh…so many more layers of the psychology of being on this med! I’m wondering about your experiences. I’m so grateful that this community, on the whole, is so supportive and willing to share their experiences…I’ve learned a lot in a short time from you all, and have especially appreciated the antidiet mindset here, which gives this sub a distinctly different “feel” from some other GLP-related subs which aligns with my mindset in so many ways. As I keep unpacking the psychological adjustments that come up for me on this med, I’d love to continue learning from you. What have been your psychological challenges and insights on these meds?

I couldn’t find a flair that fit just right, but as a newbie to this sub, I tried and hope it’s ok.

So I’m a psychologist (I practiced as a therapist for years, then focused more on research and teaching/training others), and after 6 months on Zep, I’m finding myself fascinated and also quite challenged by the psychology of it. (Important note: to me, “challenge” doesn’t necessarily mean “bad,” just something difficult, sometimes uncomfortable, requiring adjustment, which often leads to positive change or growth.) Some examples include:

- The “space” left in my head without food noise, and how to be intentional about filling that space, not just zoning out on social media or tv (which was a bit too easy for me to do at first — I have an anxiety disorder and it’s easy for me to seek to “blunt” or “mask” the anxiety in these ways).

- Coming to grips with my ambivalence about getting smaller, because I resent this culture’s tendency (I’m in the US) to equate “small” with “pretty and feminine” for women, and also because I feel vulnerable when I’m smaller, thanks to past trauma (and yes, I’ve had plenty of therapy of my own for that, but getting smaller means I am revisiting some of those feelings in real time).

- Having to develop new strategies for managing my grief/fatigue/sadness/anger related to the last years of my mom’s life (being her caregiver then her estate’s executor), because pre-Zep I used emotional eating and alcohol as coping strategies too much, but Zep basically eliminated both of those. (So far journaling and exercise have proven to be useful substitutes!)

- and gosh…so many more layers of the psychology of being on this med! I’m wondering about your experiences. I’m so grateful that this community, on the whole, is so supportive and willing to share their experiences…I’ve learned a lot in a short time about managing side effects, nutrition strategies, and more. As I keep unpacking the psychological adjustments that come up for me on this med, I’d love to continue learning from you. What have been your psychological challenges and insights?

When I started Zep in October ‘25, I was coming off of five really hard years. The pandemic was an incredibly stressful time for me at work (higher education), and then just as that was resolving a bit, my mom’s health deteriorated, she died, and I was executor of her estate. I neglected my own health that whole time: stress eating, drinking too much, and not exercising. Starting Zep was part of a series of commitments I made to myself to get healthy, to find the woman I was pre-pandemic.

Today, I pulled a pair of jeans out of the back of my closet. My favorite pair of jeans, pre-pandemic. I’d set them aside sadly a few years ago, wondering if I’d ever be able to wear them again. And today, when I pulled them on and they fit, I sat down in happy surprise.

I’m stronger, fitter, and healthier in so many ways compared to me six months ago. And thousands of choices have gotten me here, not just a weekly shot. And there are many reasons for me to be happy about these healthy changes. But today, it’s about these pre-pandemic jeans. 👖 🥰👖