My Brutally Honest GLP-1 Journey: 2 Years of Shots, Surprises, and Skinny Jeans

Views: 19

The Great Injection Standoff of 2023

Let’s start with the embarrassing truth: I called my sister for moral support before my first shot. Yes, I’m a grown adult who needed backup to inject myself with medication. Judge me if you want, but have you ever tried to stab yourself on purpose? It’s harder than it looks.

After 30 minutes of pep talks and false starts, I finally did it. The needle went in, I held my breath for what felt like an eternity, and then… nothing happened. No fireworks, no immediate transformation, just a tiny pinch and a whole lot of “well, that was anticlimactic.”

My sister laughed so hard she nearly choked on her coffee. “You built that up like you were performing surgery,” she said. She wasn’t wrong.

What Nobody Tells You About GLP-1 Medications

Here’s what I wish someone had explained before I started this journey:

Your relationship with food will get weird. And I mean really weird. Foods you used to demolish suddenly become “meh.” That pizza you’d normally inhale? You’ll eat two slices and actually feel satisfied. Your brain will be confused for months.

The side effects are real, but manageable. Nausea was my unwelcome companion for the first six weeks. I kept crackers everywhere: my car, my desk, my gym bag.

You’ll rediscover hunger cues. Turns out, actual hunger feels nothing like the “I’m bored so I’ll eat this entire sleeve of cookies” feeling I’d been mistaking for hunger my whole life. Who knew?

The Unexpected Side Effects (Good and Bad)

The Good:

• My energy levels shot through the roof around month three
• Joint pain I’d accepted as “normal” completely disappeared
• I stopped thinking about food every 11 minutes
• My clothes started fitting better, then got too big (expensive problem, but I’ll take it)

The Weird:

• My taste buds completely changed. Foods I loved became too sweet or too salty
• I developed an unusual appreciation for vegetables (my teenage self would be horrified)
• If there was a side effect to experience, I did. They passed, they returned. They come and go with no rhyme or reason.
• My face looked different in photos, not just thinner, but somehow more… present?

The Challenging:

• Eating out became a strategic mission requiring menu research
• Well meaning friends kept offering me food I genuinely could not finish
• I had to learn new coping mechanisms for stress that didn’t involve a bag of chips

The Maintenance Reality Check

Here’s what no one mentions in those success stories: maintaining weight loss is a completely different skill than losing it in the first place.

Month 18 hit me like a brick wall. The excitement of watching numbers drop on the scale was gone, replaced by the less glamorous work of just… staying put. Some days I felt like I was white knuckling it through yet another meal prep session or dragging myself to the gym when Netflix was calling my name.

But here’s the thing. I have learned that maintenance is not about perfection. It’s about consistency, even when it’s boring. It’s about choosing the grilled chicken most of the time, not all of the time. It’s about movement that feels good, not punishment disguised as exercise.

The Mental Game Nobody Talks About

Weight loss surgery gets all the attention for requiring mental health support, but medication assisted weight loss deserves the same conversation. Losing weight does not automatically fix the emotional reasons you gained it in the first place.

I spent months unpacking why I ate when I was anxious, bored, celebrating, or basically experiencing any human emotion. Therapy helped enormously, but so did honest conversations with other people on similar journeys.

Turns out, a lot of us had been using food as a security blanket, and suddenly we needed new ways to feel safe and comfortable.

Real Talk: The Financial Reality

Let’s address the elephant in the room! This stuff is expensive. Even with insurance, I’m spending more on medication than I used to spend on groceries.

But here’s how I think about it: I’m also spending less on restaurants, takeout, and those random grocery runs where I would buy everything except what I actually needed. My food budget has shifted rather than increased. Plus, I’m investing in my health now instead of paying for health problems later.

What I’d Tell My Past Self

If I could go back to that terrified 50 year old man holding his first injection pen, here’s what I’d say:

Start slow. Don’t try to overhaul your entire life on day one. Focus on the medication adjustment first, then gradually work on other changes.

Document everything. Take photos, measurements, and notes about how you feel. Progress isn’t always visible on the scale.

Find your people. Whether it’s online communities, local support groups, or that one friend who actually gets it—connection matters.

Be patient with yourself. This is a marathon, not a sprint. There will be weeks where nothing seems to happen, and that’s normal.

Celebrate non-scale victories. The day I realized I could walk up two flights of stairs without being winded was better than any number on a scale.

The Verdict After Two Years

Am I glad I started this journey? Absolutely. Was it exactly what I expected? Not even close.

This medication gave me a tool, not a solution. It quieted the food noise enough for me to hear what my body actually needed. It bought me time to build better habits and work through the emotional stuff that got me here in the first place.

I’m not “cured” of anything. I still have days where I want to eat my feelings. The difference is now I have other options, and the volume on those urges has been turned way down.

For Anyone Considering This Path

If you’re thinking about starting GLP-1 medication, here’s my advice: do your research, find a healthcare provider who listens, and prepare for a journey that’s equal parts physical and mental transformation.

It’s not a magic bullet, but it might be the reset button you need. Just remember to pack crackers for the first few weeks—trust me on this one.

And hey, if you need someone to talk you through your first injection, I’m here. I’ve become something of an expert at giving pep talks through medical procedures. It’s not the skill I thought I’d develop in my thirties, but here we are.