ObesityHelp

Over all, my surgery experience was pretty smooth. No pain that was unbearable. On day 2, I remember asking myself "What did you get yourself into?!".  But that was because of the nausea and the shock of the changes that were quickly becoming an all too permanent reality. By day 3 I had recovered from that thinking. Mainly because I was finally able to keep fluids down. 

The only hard part so far has been the psycological issue I am having with food. I am quickly beginning to understand just how much I have used food to hide my real fears and emotions. I can NOT BEGIN to describe just how much I have thought about pasta. Granted I am not hungry what SO EVER. I am thinking of my favorite italian dishes and it feels like I am MOURNING them. Like saying Good bye to an old friend. A friend who seemingly never let me down. Was always there to comfort me. I could always depend on to be abundant and filling and satisfying. Lord, knows that pasta hasnt been my only vice. I could make a list a mile long and most of which you could find at any super bowl party .... But I really chose to focus on WHY this image of linguine with fresh parmesan kept flashing in my mind as I was nursing my sugar free popcicle (with NO appetite mind you..).  So, this has been on my mind all week. Through my walks and protein shakes and all the protocol we deal with after surgery; I had decided I was going to tackle this now.

To give a little back story here, I will tell you that prior to surgery I had been in therapy EVERY SINGLE week for THREE MONTHS to deal with my issues. At first. I was livid that as a self pay patient it was taking me so long to get through the surgery process.  I was told by the Psycologist that my surgeon had referred me to, that I was going to need additional psycological clearance. I had thought to myself "ARE YOU KIDDING?!". I thought I was no different than any other canidate for this surgery. Why would a little depression and complicated tattered family history have to hold me up from progress, right? Well, months of aganozing painstaking and life changing therapy made me realize that it was the therapy I needed even more than the surgery itself. If you are going through this process now, I can promise you; you are exactly where you are supposed to be.

I realized that I was addicted to food. Amongst other things... nothing illegal or sordid. Just the emotional addictions. Fear. Anger. Food. yada yada. Always ending in Food. So even if for a while I was able to loose weight. BAM! Back at that Food addiction I was within a short while. Why? Because it felt good. Lets be honest here. Sometimes...it just feels so good. To hide in that pasta. To hide in that armor of fat where no one will bother to put you on display. No one will expect much from a person hiding away in that armor. If I were disappointed in love; I would bury myself deeper in armor. Disappointed in my career? Thats ok.. Build some more armor. I came to expect so little of myself. And the less I required of myself, the more people would just let me be. I had let myself go. On purpose. Those are difficult words to write. But the truth is alot easier to face now that I have begun to find a way out of that aweful mess.

My family was, well. I am just going to say it. Poor. Having cereal in the morning was a treat. Not to mention milk. Forget OJ. My parents (whom adopted me) didn't keep snacks in the house. Not unless you count those dreadful marshmellow Moon pies...gross.  By dinner time, we ALL over ate. My adoptive parents weren't all that great at picking healthy meals. It was more about what they could afford. Life before living with my adopted parents was even worse. I remember getting clothes from bags left infront of Goodwill and days without real meals. So, I could get into the rest about now. How I came to need so much armor-but hey, this is about Pasta right?

So, here I am daydreaming about processed grains but if I were to have a plate in front of me that I could devour without restriction. It wouldnt just be a bite I would want. It would be the WHOLE thing. The WHOLE dang bowl. You wanna know why?! Because deep down, I am afraid it wont be there.  Deep down, I want to fini**** all because to me that is the last bowl of pasta on Earth. 

This realization shook me to my core. The idea that food could have such power over me all because of a tiny little blip of my life!! 

I am a mother of a beautiful two year old little boy now. I am now 32 years old and marriend to a man that is not only handsome but the most sensitive and caring person I know. We have built a beautiful life together and I am lightyears away from that little girl. 

Through therapy I have conqeured and released so many of the demons that plagued me for so long due to things that happened when I was that sad lonely little girl. But this last piece of my puzzel was so important to discover. I can assure you that I have not been thinking of pasta, or obsessing on any food as of lately. My appetite is gone. I am still keeping up with protocol. And I will be moving onto my next battle of the mind in no time. There is no quick fix or instant cure for decades of self medicating with food. I can only change my thoughts and behaviors in the now and pray that eventually it will all be one big foggy memory. I have no doubt that although I feel confidant that I can kick this addiction in the butt and send it packing, I am sure I will have weak days. For any of you out there, wondering why you are still thinking of food with no appetite....you are not alone.