I smile because it’s expected, I go because I must, I hold it together because it’s what I’ve always done. Does it make me a liar to smile when I don’t mean it? 2012 has not been kind to me and mine.

January

We were supposed to move back to my childhood home at the first of the year, didn’t happen until the 17^th. Even though we got in, it took 3 dumpsters and a lot of scrubbing to make it habitable. We live here now, we’re settled in, but a hundred and one things need attention and it’s difficult to prioritize. I understand now why my dad has always had a long list of half finished projects and I have new empathy for him. You start on one thing, certain you can get it done quickly then another “have to” pops up putting project one on the back burner, just when you think you’ve got project two under control, in comes three and four, and the vision you had for number one is just that, vision. The unfinished reality is depressing and discouraging.

February

In tradition of February being the suck month it is, it started out with a Bartholin’s cyst for me because the anniversary of my grandfather’s death can never just pass without incident. Kept mom’s mind off missing her dad for a while at least. February granted me 2 cysts, back to back, with a drain put in. The good side is when that came out, they also took out my IUD, so far not pregnant (which is good, I don’t want to get there until fall)

March

Our new day care provider broke up with us early in the month, forcing us to shop around again. We found someone we are comfortable with and I think he’s adjusting really well, but it took 7 interviews to find her.

Missed both of my support groups and had to deal with having a houseguest for the fourth month (mom). Never enough time for anything, Todd and I were eating poorly and feeling worse. Wanted to have an open house, but that fell through due to lack of enthusiasm (no one said they were coming) and a lack of funds. I just wasn’t willing to put in all that work for a bunch of maybes.

April

My car will not pass inspection and Todd’s is also having some issues getting passed. My car is trying to die on me, and we saved our tax return money to use on a down payment on a car for me, but we’ve not been able to look in depth, or should I say in person. I can look online all I want, but that doesn’t put me behind the wheel or get me excited. Todd’s mom went to an auction for us in hopes of getting us a Saturn wagon, but we lost. Also lost the dining room set me wanted and the chess set he wanted. But that’s not the worst of it. My favorite uncle is in the hospital, he just had 3 valves replaced, his arteries cleaned, and his heart murmur fixed. He’s out of surgery, but not yet out of the woods. There’s nothing I can do to help them, so of course I feel helpless, extraneous, and at a complete loss. My Grandmother is also in the hospital. Being in the hospital is the less worrisome part though. She had/has DVT and they are working her through that. She had a stroke last year but her doctors didn’t seem to think she needed any scans or anything because it was “so minor”. Grandma has slowly started drifting into dementia and who can blame her living in an emotionally abusive house with her dying (kidney failure, diabetic, heart problem, leg amputee) daughter who belittles her constantly, yells at her both at home and in public and who has also scared her into not eating by yelling at her when she does eat that the food she chose is “hers” and if grandma eats it she’s “Stealing” WTF?! Your own mother?! The dementia isn’t as bad as we thought, in fact the more regularly she eats and gets her insulin, the clearer her head gets, imagine that! She’s walking slower and tiring easier, but the woman is 88 and they just now pulled her license. She is physically unable to care for herself AND Karen any more, and they question her self care. If she doesn’t need 24 hour supervision, I want her (and only her, not Auntie) to move in with us. That way I can still work, but spend time with her and be with her and help her. Other alternatives are her moving to Albuquerque with my parents or possibly with my cousin in Front Royal. Not sure yet, she’s got her big meeting tomorrow afternoon, I’m going to try to get someone to call me and let me listen in.

With two family members in the hospital, mom had to fly back a scant week after finally going home.

General

I’m having to miss out on seeing friends and doing things I want to do due to this massive have to do stuff. Sigh. I missed Juliet’s open house to meet her new son, and I’m going to miss him baptism too. I missed support group which I never do. I’ve been eating crap and feeling fat since Britt (my Zumba instructor) got fired. I’m exhausted. I need to work on typing up my recipes, not just because I have more and want to share, but people are counting on me. I’m supposed to be helping with the bariatric cookbook my surgeon’s office is putting together. It occurs to me that once this is done, I will actually be a published author (just not in the genre I was aiming for). It also occurs to me that instead of complaining and venting out this super long entry I could have better used my time on said recipes, but guess what? I needed to get this out more, I hate that it’s all been building inside of me, that I’ve been withdrawing from people and events. I guess I just wanted to let you all know it’s not you, I’m not mad at anyone, I’m not avoiding anyone. I’m just overwhelmed and not seeing any end in sight.

Ideally

I want to get the bay window finished (was a window seat until the squatter ripped it out and left the shredded pieces hanging) I’ve painted, purchased trim (got one coat on it, needs one more) and plan to tile. Of course put the curtains back up once that is done.

I want to get my recipes together and into Dr McKenna’s office. I keep coming up with cute ideas for sections, like, “The Cauliflower Chronicles: everyday solutions to high carb comfort foods”. Yeah, I crack myself up.

I want to start writing again, my stories run around in my head and I need to let them out.

I want to be more active with my friends and family (in a good social way, not and holding greivious way), with my friends in the weight loss community (I do better the more engaged I am), and with my actual community. I grew up in this neighborhood, everyone talked, everyone pitched in, it’s a safe comfortable place and I want to help shape it the same as my parents did when I was a kid.

In the fall we want to get pregnant, working on saving money so we don’t get hit with new baby expenses all at once. We’ll see how that goes. The convertible crib is here and set up. Even if I don’t get pregnant it’s an awesome full size bed frame :)

Time for rest now. Thanks for letting me go on and on and on.

 My sons’s peanut butter crackers are calling my name. They say, “come on, we’re a light snack you can count us as your breakfast!” But I already had a mint cookie protein shake for breakfast, I argue. Their taunts continue, “So you had a big dose of protein, have a little more, the carbs aren’t that bad, besides, we taste good and we’ll make you feel better.” Ah, the crux of the problem! I want to eat because I feel terrible. Not emotionally, I’m in a lot of physical pain and I’m gritting my teeth trying to get through it. I have a Bartholin’s cyst, my fourth one in six months. I’m on a very high dose of antibiotics and it’s already been drained once, my next appointment is in a couple days. Walking is okay as long as I don’t wear pants or undies, those are torture. I have a  desk job and even with a donut I can’t find a comfortable position. So why you might ask, am I writing this instead of huddling in bed in with some Advil? As I mentioned I have a desk job and I’m running reports at the moment and need to distract myself, and I can’t take Advil, I’ve had gastric bypass surgery. The doctor who drained the cyst last week was well aware of that and told me to just take Tylenol. Insert hysterical laughter here. Tylenol doesn’t even touch this. Okay I’ve made another appointment, they’ll see me this afternoon. I was holding out until the pain of the cyst was greater than the pain of the needles/scalpels/catheters needed for draining. I’m now at that point. Haven’t touched the evil peanut butter crackers yet either, I’m pretty proud of myself, though the nausea which accompanies the pain helps more than me hiding the food from my eye-line.

What’s the point of this? to bitch about the unfairness of my cyst? Nope. I had to distract myself and work around the deeply ingrained belief that food makes everything better. Guess what? I’m there! I’ll eat a proper meal in 45 minutes instead.

 

 Last night’s group topic was body image, my thoughts kept going long after the group was dismissed and here are some of my thoughts.

I’m not really a fan of the new office shrink. I don’t know what it is about her, but something about her just rubbed me the wrong way, but she did make me think.

My perception of my body has never exactly matched what is physically there. In my mind, I am gorgeous, I always have been, even when I was fat. The only times I’ve felt unattractive and less than myself were when others pointed it out to me or when I saw unflattering pictures of myself. Some of that is/was just spiteful people, some of it is/was reality. Whether I’m fat or thin I’ve always seen myself the same way. I can’t put into words the way I envision myself, maybe the me I see in my mind is what my inner-self looks like? Maybe she’s a previous incarnation of me?  Maybe it’s the part of me that avoids reality. Does it matter? Seeing myself the way I do in my mind’s eye makes me confident, I feel invincible. I can see her in the mirror sometimes, maybe because I’m looking at the potential, or maybe because I’ve gotten great at lying to myself over the years. Pictures bring reality to the surface, the only time I see the true me is when I look in pictures. That was how I realized I gained weight when I was 17, I saw my Florida pictures and I did not recognize myself. Just as now when I see pictures of myself I think I look too thin, and at times in the mirror I do not recognize myself and have to spend an extra five minutes staring and wondering and making faces just to make sure my reflection will make them back proving that girl in the mirror is me.

Is this an unhealthy attitude? 2 years ago I would have said yes, today though? My physical body is healthy, so why not let myself believe in the girl I see in my head. It’s not hurting anyone. I’m not starving myself to achieve something I’m not, I’m not overeating because my mental image doesn’t reflect my physical one. It doesn’t depress me, quite the opposite, it empowers me. So maybe I have healthy self-image after all.

Back to last night’s meeting… I’m thinking perhaps I did not like her because I did not feel I could be myself around her, I held back a lot of thoughts and comments I really wanted to share, so allow me to do it here! (or not you can stop reading at any time, but I’m going to keep on)…

Some of her “suggestions” to better body image really rubbed me the wrong way. For example, she said that telling yourself positive things about your appearance does not actually improve your perception, there are not facts to support that theory. WRONG! See above. She said “thoughts aren’t real” I agree thoughts aren’t tangible and they are changeable. They are not always in your control and they can/will dictate your life choices. Sounds real to me. Sometimes a person’s thoughts are more real to them than reality. Even though thinking something won’t make it true, thinking leads to believing, and if you believe in something enough you will strive to make it reality.

Another one was, get out and do more, like charity work. While it’s a nice thought, we need to take care of ourselves first. If you can’t take care of yourself, how can you take care of others? The good thought behind it was you can get away from wrestling your self-loathing and escape your pity-party, but if you can’t deal with what got you there in the first place then it’s still going to be there when you come home from the soup kitchen or clothing drive and you are going to have to deal sooner or later. The better you feel about yourself the more you’ll want to do, the more you’ll want to give because you feel you have more to offer. Don’t do things because you need to escape or because you feel sorry for someone or some cause, do it because you know you have something to offer. The more you do the more you’ll want to do.

Another suggestion was to stop putting things off until you lose weight, do it now. Well that’s all fine and dandy, for some goals, but not for all of them. Some goals have to wait. Going on roller coaster rides when you can barely fit in the seat is unsafe and should wait. Some goals have weight restrictions, maximum weight tolerances. They aren’t to be mean, they are to keep a person safe. There are goals a diabetic may have for once their excess weight is gone and their disease is in remission, things they could not do when dependent on insulin or eating every few hours. And what about the guy with high blood pressure who always wanted to go sky diving? Parasailing? Bungee jumping? Should he go out and do those things today? Not if he wants a safe experience he’ll be alive to remember. But that’s just my opinion. I’m not saying a person shouldn’t go out and do things, you have to do something otherwise you’ll never real those big dreams. It’s a journey, make small goals, celebrate your achievements and milestones, don’t get discouraged just because you aren’t where you think you should be or wonder if you’ll ever get there.

While I agree with the premise of “don’t greet people by commenting on their appearance”, I don’t feel you should ignore someone’s changes either. If someone got a hair cut they might be waiting for your validation, they may need to know that you noticed. Don’t make it the first words out of your mouth when you see someone, but when you notice something about your friend, why not make them feel good about themselves and offer them a compliment on their appearance? Even those people who can’t accept a compliment graciously still get fluttery on the inside when one is given, it makes them feel better about themselves, because face it, we live in a world where appearance matters. Just don’t make it the ONLY thing that matters. You didn’t choose your friends for how they look but that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to notice or give praise when you feel the need.

One of her suggestions was to journal your feelings, that’s one I hope to follow up with, there are so many thoughts in my head and I’m always in a much better frame of mind after I write/type out everything that is racing around in my head. It gets it out and makes room for other, potentially more important things.

 

 I’ve heard it said, or at least read, people can walk by mirrored surfaces and not recognize themselves. It’s happened to me, but only once or twice, on days I was looking especially thin and pretty.

I tend to remove myself from past unpleasantness, not to the degree of ignoring it, rather, I see it as I’ve moved on and I try not to dwell in the past. I believe this has helped me to accept my new body, to embrace it, and to claim it for myself.

I look back at pictures of myself, and that’s the person I do not recognize… I don’t understand what went through my head, why I thought that body was sexy, to me it really is not. I don’t know how I let myself get so unhealthy. As I was getting used to my new body I had trouble with shifting my conception of personal beauty, I worried I looked better with a rounder face, I was afraid I looked unhealthy in the other extreme. My self-image is constantly evolving, but it’s working out for the better. I’m learning to love my body, I love the things I can do now, I love not taking insulin, and I am super excited to start planning for my next baby!!

Nope, the thought of pregnancy does not terrify me. It’s not going to “mess up” my body. I’ve already got stretch marks and loose skin, I’ll fill out, I’ll have life inside of me, and when (s)he comes out I’ll have a new child to care for in addition to getting back where I was physically prior to pregnancy. I’m actually looking forward to seeing if my boobs fill back out, if my tummy get better, it’s certainly not going to get any worse.

 When I started this journey, I thought I knew what to expect. I thought I was so prepared for everything. I saw so many pitfalls from other people’s journeys and felt as I was armed with this knowledge of things that could happen, I could avoid it. For the most part, other people’s problems, I have.

This entry isn’t about complaining about anything bad, let me just put that out there. I’m feeling introspective and I am learning to come to terms with the shift in my mentality post weight loss surgery.

First issue, I was a carb nazi for the first while after surgery. I was terrified of them and wanted to keep them out of my diet for as long as possible. Then I learned the hard way that you must have carbs because you must have fiber. My maximum carb intake has relaxed quite a bit, but I’m still pretty vigilant. I want to make sure I get in 25g of fiber a day and to do that I have to go near 100gms of carbs. Does it freak me out the way it used to? Not really, I still get edgy when I see my logged carbs near or over and I immediately make adjustments, but I don’t think it’s entirely unhealthy, especially since I log my food at the beginning of the day and can make adjustments rather than doing it at the end of the day and beating myself up for making less than stellar choices I can’t take back.

Issue the next, my idea of beauty is shifting. Does anyone else feel they were more attractive when they were fatter? I was so used to making myself I was beautiful when I was fat that it’s hard sometimes so see myself as attractive now that my face shape has changed so drastically. Some days I feel downright unattractive, other days I’m over the moon with my reflection. I’m a lot harsher on myself than on my friends who have lost weight. I think it’s because I see them less and I see inside of them more than their appearance. I’m also self-centered, so it could be that too. But seriously it’s bizarre, did I get so good at lying to myself over the years? Or does my brain just need time to catch up with my body? My husband finds me incredibly sexy and beautiful, he’s adjusting much quicker than I am, perhaps.

This last one, I find humorous, disturbing, and oddly comforting. I spent most of my adult life wearing a size 13, I identified with it really well, it was a number I liked, I was comfortable with it. After my pregnancy I went up to a 20, wore that size for a couple years, hated it, hated my body, hated my deteriorating health. So now I’ve gone down through the sizes, down, down, down…  first problem was underwear. I have no hips, my butt is tiny, 5’s don’t fit, 4’s are impossible to find. I went to the kids department out of sheer desperation, bought a couple packs of size 16 undies without trying them on, went by the weight/measurement chart on the back. Got them home… they’re too big. Bought some size 10’s the next time, they’re a little snug, finally settled on size 12. They fit wonderfully. So I wear size 12 in undies, kid undies. WTF. I was shopping with my good friend this weekend, and I was once again frustrated as my 2 jeans have been getting looser and looser, washing them wasn’t shrinking them back to snug. The thought of me wearing a 0 just makes no sense, 0 isn’t a size, it’s a lack of size. It’s freaking weird. Also hard to find on a budget. Jokingly, I told my friend I was going to go shopping in the kids department, she told me to go. So I did. I found a cute pair of glittery jeans, I like glitter. Being 30 doesn’t mean I can’t like glitter anymore. I jumped from the assumption that since I wore size 12 in kids undies, I probably wore a size 12 in kids pants. Found a pair in 12, took them to the dressing room, they fit perfectly. So after all this… the surgery, the hard work, the murdering of my diabetes, the 104 pounds lost, I am back to wearing a 12. Totally different 12, but a 12 nonetheless. It’s a mind, lesser than the fact that I’m buying my clothes in the kids department, but still wacky. I like that number, I am comfortable with it. It’s familiar and it’s something I can identify with even though sometimes I can’t identify my own reflection.

After the success in the pants, I started checking out shirts as S shirts are very baggy on me and XS is harder to find. I now own some XL shirts, another size I am used to, but XL in girls is much more awesome than XL in Womens. But again, it’s a size I’m used to seeing on my tags. I’m still trying to decide if this with help or hinder wrapping my mind around my changes.

I feel kinda like I’m getting a second chance on my tween-teen years. I didn’t enjoy it so much the first time around, but now I kinda feel like this is the body I should have had, the stress level I should have had (I had a lot of baggage to carry around when I was younger, luckily it’s all dealt with). Sure I realize I’m an adult, I have a husband, and a son. I have a job, responsibilities, but I’m also starting to take more time for myself, letting my husband be the parent when I want to go out without a kid. By “go out” I don’t mean go to a bar and pick up men, I just need to get out of the house more, spend time with friends without my son underfoot. It’s only fair as my husband does this every Friday night. I started it this weekend for myself. I feel so light and free right now and I really want this to last. Stress has been getting me down and making me lash out at my nearest and dearest, but now that I’ve taken that step in taking time away from being ON 24/7 I realize that it’s something I really need to do to reset and to keep me in my happy place.

Wow, this went off in another direction, but I think you get it, or at least you’re used to me enough by now to expect this sort of thing from me ;)

 Also enjoying being small breasted. Weird, I never ever thought I'd say that. The boob faerie hit me when I was in teh 7th grade, nothing to a D over night, eventually up to an E. My boobs were part of my identity, and now they aren't. I'm not missing them, at least not today... I'm even wearing a sport bra today just because I feel like being nearly flat chested. Who am I?!