Heaviest Weight

478 lbs

Current Weight

432 lbs

Total Lost

46 lbs


Donations

Received To Date

$3,181,000

27,654 lbs of Food


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The Good, The Bad

And The Ugly...

Ben's Blog

 

Meet Ben

The man behind 'Donate My Weight'


 

Hello everyone, my name is Ben Miller.  Let me start things off by pointing out that I'm just a regular guy who's been through some hard times, like pretty much everyone else.  For me, my demons were alcohol and food, both of which wrought havoc on my body.   After spending most of my life in a normal-sized body, I began gaining weight rapidly about 10 years ago and I've ballooned up to over 450 lbs.  I am proud to say that I haven't had an alcoholic drink since October of 2003... but I'm getting ahead of myself.  

 

My story begins at St. Luke's Hospital in Fountain Hill, PA, in 1975.  I was born into a great family and along with my loving parents, I was blessed to have an older sister and brother .  I grew up in a nice, middle-class  neighborhood in Nazareth, PA .    It was a great place to live, there were lots of other kids in the neighborhood to play with and help me get in trouble.  That's right, I was one of those rambunctious kids who was always into some sort of trouble .

 

My dad was a teacher at the local High School and my mom was a homemaker and substitute teacher .  We had a pretty typical home life, easily recognized by anyone who grew up in the suburbs.  Both my parents worked hard to provide for my brother, sister and me.   We weren't rich, but we weren't poor either.  We were somewhere in the middle, like most other families who lived in the 'burbs.

 

As I got older, I began to calm down and cause less trouble in school.  In reality, the only trouble I ever caused was related to talking out of turn or doing goofy things to make other kids laugh .  I was kind of an insecure kid and I just wanted people to think I was funny, to like me.  Of course the irony of it is, had I just relaxed a little and been myself, I would probably have made plenty of friends. 

 

I guess that's just one of those lessons we have to learn the hard way, like "Don't pee into the wind," or "If you eat too much candy, you will get a stomachache."  Since I am somewhat of a stubborn guy, let's just say I've had my share of bellyaches and ruined a pair of shoes or two.  But again, I'm going off-track...

 

Between my Junior and Senior years of high school, I enlisted in the US Navy's delayed entry program .  This allowed me to officially join the service, but put it off until after I graduated.  Knowing that I already signed the dotted line for the Navy, you can imagine how dedicated to schoolwork I was that year .  Though my grades were not exactly fantastic, I did enjoy an active social life and I had my share of dates

 

I stepped off the bus in Orlando, FL on July 26, 1993, as I entered boot camp.  It was a culture-shock for me and to be completely honest, it scared me to death.  As a guy who was very unsure of himself and had never really been away from home for any extended time, I felt lost .  I'm embarrassed to say I even tried to quit from boot camp in the beginning, but I was lucky enough to have a Company Commander who understood my mindset and made me continue.   He may have done it through screaming and intense physical training, but that was his way of showing me that even if I didn't believe in myself, he believed in me.  I never did get to tell him how much I appreciated that.

 

After boot camp, I went on to my job training (Navy called it "A" school) so I could learn to be a CTT and work in the world of Naval Intelligence .  I graduated with honors and moved on to my first duty station, VQ-2 in Rota, Spain

 

Things were going well and I was quickly proving myself on the job , plus I met a nice girl and started a relationship.  I was overseas a little over a year when my world started crumbling around me.  I'll never forget, I was in VQ-2's Electronic Warfare Department when I had my first Panic Attack.  I had no idea what was happening to me and my superiors sent me to all sorts of Navy doctors to try and find out what was happening. 

 

The Navy initially moved me to another job outside of the intelligence community, while I continued to undergo medical tests.  During the same time, my relationship fell apart and I became somewhat of a hermit .   It's hard to explain the feelings I felt as I struggled to understand the situation.  Eventually, the Navy offered to give me an honorable discharge and allow me to go home.  While I was comforted by the thought of being in familiar surroundings, going home seemed like a cop-out to me and I began to feel like a failure .

 

In the Navy, for the first time in my life, I really proved myself and I worked as hard as I could to be the best.  I was actually living up to my expectations, like all my old teachers and guidance counselors used to say, but I was losing everything because of some mystery medical problem.  It absolutely crushed me when I accepted the honorable discharge and came home .  In my mind, I was a failure once again, reinforcing all those insecure thoughts I had growing up. 

 

I came home and began drinking, partying and eating to cover up my hurt .  For awhile, the attacks went away and I was able to go on with my life, though  my failure with the Navy just ate me up inside.  I enrolled in college at Lock Haven University and even joined the Kappa Delta Rho fraternity .  Things seemed to be looking up for me again... when the attacks came back, stronger than ever. 

 

The first one came while I was laying in bed sleeping.  I had another the next day and went home to see my family doctor, Dr. Hugo Twaddle.  He was very good to me when he diagnosed me with Panic Disorder, taking the time to explain it thoroughly.  He put me on medicine and recommended I speak to a psychologist.  The medicine helped a great deal , but the attacks never completely went away. 

 

From that point on, I made myself feel better by consuming large amounts of alcohol and food .  Even though it took the pain away temporarily, I continued to gain weight rapidly, which made me feel even worse in the long-run.  It was a vicious cycle and I felt like I was trapped.   Luckily, I was able to receive some support from the Veteran's Administration.  They had their doctors evaluate me and after some time, I was designated a disabled veteran. 

 

With the VA's help, I was able to graduate from Lock Haven and continued on to the working world.  Unfortunately, my panic attacks and my terrible eating/drinking habits came with me and it was such a lonely, miserable part of my life.  One of my biggest supporters was my dad , who never lost faith in me and my ability to overcome my obstacles.  With his help, I was able to say goodbye to the alcohol once and for all in October of 2003.

 

He was so proud of me and together we talked about my next big battle- my weight.  Even though I was proud that I was able to kick alcohol, my panic attacks became much harder to handle without the alcohol to help me through them.  Getting rid of all the weight I accumulated seemed impossible because to make up for the missing alcohol, I began eating more.   There were many nights I never went to sleep, because I was up all night worrying about my situation.  I saw no way out of it.

 

Then, on March 1 of 2004, life threw another curveball.  Around 6:30pm that evening, my Dad had a sudden heart attack and died almost immediately .  I'm sure you can imagine how hard things became, but I never did go back on my promise to my dad and begin drinking again.  I went on a diet because I told my Dad I would, and I was able to lose 130 lbs.  Unfortunately, the situation eventually overwhelmed me and I gained it all back, plus some

 

Times were hard again and I was beginning to give up on myself.  It felt to me like I was failing over and over, from the Navy and the panic attacks to the repeated failures with my diet.  In the years after my dad's death I was very lonely.  I hadn't been in a relationship in years and for a guy my size , it just didn't seem possible to meet a nice girl who would look past my weight to the person inside.  I still believed deep down inside that it would all turn around one day, I just couldn't figure out how make it happen.

 

That's when I met Andrea , the most incredible woman I have ever had the privilege to know.  From the first time we met, she saw me for who I was, it was as if she hadn't even noticed my weight .  A year and a half later, we were married in beautiful Cape May, NJ .  Along with my wife, I also welcomed two great stepchildren into my family .  On March 19th of 2009, we added a new member to the family with our baby girl, Allana Kateri Miller .  I can't even begin to tell you how much they all mean to me.

 

Since I met Andrea, she has given me tremendous support in fighting my battles with weight and Panic Disorder .  She has also given me the courage to visit some new doctors , in addition to my regular doctors at the VA, where I learned to have a little more control over the attacks.  They still come here and there, but I am much better at helping myself through them and I have new medication to make things easier.   

 

Andrea was also my main supporter with the 'Donate My Weight' project.  Though the idea to donate the food and raise money for the food bank was mine, it was her idea to take my campaign online.  She helped me see the big picture and realize that while I may be able to donate a certain amount  on my own, I could make a huge difference by involving others.  With the number of people in this country who are dealing with obesity like I am , there is a ton of opportunity in 'Donate My Weight.'

 

The way I look at it, the whole thing is a lose/win situation- I lose the weight and the people who depend on Second Harvest will win.  That's what it's really all about to me, making a difference in someone else's life.  Along with my progress, I hope to inspire others to do the same thing in their own communities.  Not only will it give them more motivation to lose the weight, it will also provide additional food to support their local soup kitchens and food banks.  The whole thing has a trickle-down effect and at the end of the day, there is a great potential to make a difference in thousands of lives . 

 

 

 

Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future -Oscar Wilde

 


                                                                                 

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