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Hello OH family.  These updates have been few and far between the past couple years but I hope to change that over the next couple of months.  You see, I've begun to experience "the creep."  It's been slow and slight enough that I never really have thought it was a problem.  "Water weight", "time of the month", "oh this is a different scale" "I'm weighing at night" "my tee shirt probably weighs too much."  Those kinds of things.  As of today I weigh 158.5.  That's nearly 10lbs. over my lowest post-op weight (I was 149 for like an instant) and about 6lbs. above my easily maintained weight of 152.5.  So you may be thinking "6lbs., that's nothing!"  I've thought that myself.  In the old days I could put on 6lbs. Thanksgiving Day!  And taking it off wasn't much of a problem either (the problem was that I had to take off 120+).  I didn't think it was a problem until I started trying to take it off.  It is impossible!  My magic powers have completely disappeared.  I feel frantic.  I feel as though I woke up to old Bonnie's metabolism and stomach size and it's only a matter of time before my body catches up with it.  I feel OUT OF CONTROL.  That is by far the most depressing thing I have experienced in the past 5 years.  I am quite distraught.  I don't want to lose new Bonnie!  I've hardly had enough time with her.  We were going to see the world together!  I have many more airplane belts to clasp comfortably, basketball seats and booths to slide into confomfortably, dresses to slink around in, places to walk not out of breath.  And I could live my whole life crossing my legs and not get enough of it!  I'm not ready to go back!!!!!!!!!!!!  

1.  The first step is recognizing there is a problem.  Bleh.  How do I do this in my most teenager-y way possible.  "Um, I don't think that there's a problem, but clearly the scale does."  It's hard for me to identify the problem when I've never followed a rigid set of rules and have had success up until recently.  When I first consulted with surgeons for VSG, one surgeon said "no white stuff, ever."  No mashed potatoes ever, no birthday cake, no candy, no brownies, no bread, no pasta, no rice.  Quite honestly it was and still is a bit of a toss up for me between being skinny and eating good food.  I'm a food lover.  It feeds my soul.  When I met my surgeon he put it pretty plainly:  "you will lose weight faster and keep it off better if you cut out those things (referring to "white stuff") but if you could do that, you wouldn't need us in the first place."  Let me say this about white stuff.  It's not the most comfortable stuff to eat nowadays.  Even though I'm a VSGer, if I eat too much sugar, I get something similar to dumping syndrome, feeling nauseous and sweaty.  Pasta/bread/rice fills me up very quickly and then vanishes just as quickly, leaving me very hungry after all my calories spent.  

The big offenders:  One of the biggest problems for me has been candy.  Shocker, huh?  I mean my whole life I did not eat candy like, ever.  I was the fat girl always on a diet.  I was not going to insult the fat gods by ever drinking real Coke or eating candy bars.  They were the forbidden fruit.  So when I started grad school and there was a vending machine and I could eat a candy bar nearly every day and not gain it was like WOOOOHOOOOO I'M INVINCIBLE!  It really was great.  And I wish I could live in a world where that was sustainable.  Heck I'd probably get surgery again if it allowed me to eat like that super-skinny friend we all had in highschool who never could seem to put on an ounce.  But it's not.  Believe it or not, that habit of stopping by the vending machines was hard to break.  It wasn't until I moved into another building where the vending machine is much less accessible that I backed off.  The second biggest offender has been alcohol.  I really enjoy a glass or two of wine at night.  But one glass of wine over the course of the year could be the difference in my total weight gain!  That's the very exacting math we are talking about.  My husband doesn't drink wine so I'm the only one in the house to drink it.  Meaning that when I open in a bottle I feel compelled to finish it over the next few nights--usually 2 glasses of wine per night x 3 nights.  That's probably close to 300 extra calories every night.  I thought about getting boxed wine so I could drink it only when I really wanted and only 1 glass at a time.  Or I thought about instating a weekend rule wherein wine only gets opened Thursday or Friday and must last me through the weekend.  Or I'm thinking about going cold turkey.  The third biggest offender is I don't live with my sister any more.  My sister had WLS too so it was very easy to split (or less) everything with her.  We have like tastes so it was easy coming to a choice on the menu.  My husband typically wants to eat more than half, and we have very different palates.  And while I still tend to only eat half of what I'm served (max!), sometimes I find myself eating it as a snack, completely negating the fact that I only ate half.  

2.  A battle plan.  I wish I had one.  My first thought when I saw the scale going up was "life's unfair, I'm getting a raw deal, I can't be eating over 1200 calories."  So I started tracking using Myfitnesspal.  It's so easy to use, but it's scary how quickly calories add up.  Even with splitting meals and cutting out wine, my eating naturally likes to trend toward 1300-1400.  And on the weekends more than that.  I can't believe it!  Myfitnesspal says I need to eat 1350 calories to lose 1lb. a week.  That is unbelievably hard.  AND I HAVE HALF A STOMACH!!!!!  How can this be?  I see what other people eat.  I see them shoveling in chips and queso and beer or real margaritas.  So rather than believing I eat 1000 calories I have now changed my perspective and I believe the rest of the world does not have to play by the same rules I do (clearly) and they must all be eating 3000 calories.  If those skinny girls really are eating 1200 calories, I have no words.  Why are they so much better at this than me?  Why don't they get sweaty palms when they get hungry or feel bad if they pass up their grandma's dessert?  My husband and I are young and childfree and like to go to movies, and games and out to eat quite frequently.  Since the new year I've been trying to track my food and have found that unless I make the absolute best choice everywhere, then I either maintain or gain!  It's hard to be perfect all the time.  Unfortunately so far it doesn't seem to matter whether I fret about calories, making myself and my husband miserable, or just eat what I want, I seem to stay the same (10lbs. higher than I want to be) weight.  Before ditching my husband, there has to be a better plan to lose weight, right?

I think the wine has got to go, at least in weightloss mode, and at least during the week.  Maybe reinstate the weekend wine rule, or when having company over who can help drink up.  It's just wasted calories that add up scary fast.

Similarly, I cannot have candy around.  Instead, maybe I can make one of my snacks a healthy protein bar.  While most protein bars have similar number of calories as candy, their nutrient profile is much better.  And I will make at least one exception--I'm definitely getting a cadbury egg from the Easter Bunny.  Some things make life worth living.  This is one.

Protein first.  (Did I really say this?  I must be sick).  In recent weeks I've come to appreciate the steadiness (for lack of a better term) that protein lends to my life.  Sugar and carbs can make me frantic and moody and sick-feeling.  Now I am NOT saying no to the white stuff.  This is a totally different approach.  I am saying I need to arm myself with the good stuff before filling up on the bad.  Of course the effect is kinda the same--not much white stuff because there isn't any room.

Exercise.  I promised this from the beginning and I've fallen down on my promise.  120 some pounds of weight loss and a tummy tuck.  I wanna see what this body is capable of!  Also, if I am doomed to be fat again, I want to know what it feels like to work out and not want to die.

Alas, it all comes down to calories.  All these items detailed above are good tools to make the ride smoother, but ultimately I don't think it matters whether I eat 1200 calories in cadbury eggs or 1200 calories in tuna fish.  I simply am taking in too many calories currently, and that must change.

The goal:  My original goal at the beginning of the year was to meet my initial WLS goal of "half of myself" (138.5) by my 5 year surgiversary (May 26).  That's 11 weeks away and about 20lbs. to lose.  Probably a little lofty at this point (however I'd be OVER THE MOON if I did!!).  So in the alternative I'd like to be my "lightest weight ever post-WLS" (148.5 would do it) so that's 10lbs. in 11 weeks which should be doable.  Anything between the two is acceptable as well.  I hope to come back here weekly and account my tale.  It's a struggle now.  I need to believe I have control.  I don't want to say goodbye to new Bonnie.  I was addicted to the process 5 years ago.  How exciting.  Now as I embark on this journey, I hope it can be just as much fun.  

This was our discussion last night at support group and this has been on my mind a lot recently.

Let me be perfectly candid:  I had WLS to look better.  Period.  I was young and in relatively good health.  My blood pressure was ideal, my cholesterol was on the high side of normal, but still okay, I had no inkling of diabetes, I had no trouble sleeping.  I had breathing problems, but that is mostly due to asthma.  

I had WLS because, let's face it, in this world looks matter.  I wasn't even particularly dissatisfied with what I saw in the mirror.  But I was dissatisfied that no store carried my clothing size, I couldn't share the shopping experience with friends.  "Fat" was my description.  I didn't want it to be that way.  Women didn't befriend me as often because it was harder for me to be a "girlfriend" of theirs--we couldn't trade clothes or talk about the non-existent boys who had asked me out.  And with men, best case scenario I was a friend or merely someone to talk to to find out about my friend.  People awkwardly kept their eyes off anything but my face and avoided anything in conversation that might deal with weight/size/food.  I was treated differently.  

It's not that when people ask someone about me I want the description to be wholly physical-characteristic based, or that I want to replace "fat" with "skinny" or "pretty".  In my perfect, enlightened world, what's on the inside really would be what counts--as cliche and naive as that sounds.  But, let's get real.  This is the world we live in.  I didn't create it.  And I cannot change it.  And I can only change myself.  "Fat" would stop someone in their tracks--at lease with "skinny" or "pretty" I get a foot in the door.  As my mom so lovingly put it "I'm just so glad that now everybody will have a chance to see you as I always have."

But, is wanting to look good for looking good's sake all that taboo?  We certainly treat it that way in the WLS world.  I think most of this stems from the fact of criticism in general over the decisions to have WLS.  It's still viewed as "the easy way out" by a very ignorant public that believes that dieting is nothing more than a matter of willpower.  Willpower that us fat people are clearly lacking.  I have so many thoughts I don't even know where to begin, so try and stay with me.  First, for argument's sake, what if I didn't have willpower?  What if it just so happens that food is my weakness and obesity my cross to bear.  I can distinguish this from other addictions/afflictions in some important ways:  I have to wear my weakness for all the world to see, and food is required to sustain life--there's no cold turkey here.  Also, how often do you hear a recovering smoker, let's say, talked out of a nicotine patch?  I, personally never have because it's for health, right?  But there we go again--"for health"--that "valid" reason.  You might be able to get naysayers on board when you offer them a "valid" reason for the surgery--take your pick of comorbidities--but forgetaboutit when you tell them it's to "look good."

My older sister is naturally skinny.  Like she can eat pretty much anything she wants and is still a size 2 soaking wet.  And, miraculously, she has never had to explain to anyone why she "deserves" to look skinny and pretty.  I guess the presumption is that her reward for "eating right" is her appearance.  But what about when she goes to get her nails done or spends time on herself at the gym or hair salon--why does she deserve to spend money on her good looks?  

I deserve to look good because I don't deserve to look bad.  And didn't deserve to be prejudged by EVERYONE I ever met based on the number on the scale.  I'm not a bad person.  I don't have any less willpower than anyone else.  It sucked being fat and the whole world knowing it and judging me for it.  I missed out on so much on the stupidest and least important quality--my appearance.  The point was made at group that some of this negativity towards self-improvement is generational, and I'd agree with that.  We have been told to care after others and not ourselves.  But sometimes you need to take care of #1, both physically and emotionally, in order to be any use to your loved ones.  I was blessed to have the opportunity to fix my weight.  What's so bad about that?  In fact, I think that's admirable.  If you can change something about yourself that you're dissatisfied with I think you should be applauded when you do it.  

I stated earlier that I still don't really buy into the appearance-driven society.  Recently someone confronted me about this, asking why I didn't think I deserved to look good.  Obviously I do care about appearances, see above.  However, I have always felt that was the least important or desirable character trait I possessed.  If I thought otherwise, growing up fat and in this world would have been extremely difficult.  I do like looking pretty.  I do like receiving compliments, as difficult as they may be to accept.  And I especially love shopping now.  Those are all fun distractions, the cherry on top.  I never let my weight define me.  Not before, not now.  I like the number on the scale.  I like that it enables more people to get to know the real me.  It's not that I think I deserve to look like a Victoria Secret model or that I don't.  It's that that was never the goal.  I'm learning to love my body.  But I have always loved myself.  

So that was all over the board, but there you go, hope it helps you think through some of your own considerations.  I will tell you that whatever your reason for choosing WLS, and whatever the critics may say, all that fades shortly after surgery.  The proof is in the pudding.  When you lose weight and feel great, you will either a) find there are no more critics around (in fact, they may be cheering you on), or b) you will feel so much more confident that you won't care what the critics say.  

Shocking title, right?

I had a multitude of fears and questions before surgery.  While some of these questions centered on food, and how normal of a life I would be able to lead with a stomach so small, a great majority of my fears concerned whether or not I would even like myself thin.  Now before you think that sounds crazy, allow me to explain.  I had always been fat.  A lot of my identity was formed because I was fat--in the way I made friends, the way I related to people.  For example, I tried to use humor to compensate so that I could be more the "funny fat girl."  I made adult friends because they were more accepting.  I found outlets in music, cooking, and writing because I had a lot of time alone.  All of these characteristics were not altogether bad.  In fact, I rather liked the person I was.  Sure, there were things I would change, namely my dress size, but I didn't want to change fundamentally who I was.  I didn't want to get caught up in the shallow world that had already shunned me.  Would the mere fact that I lost weight indicate to this messed-up shallow world that I forfeit?

 

So back to yesterday.  As I sat in my car, my (rare) size 4 jacket buttoned, singing my lungs out to some 1970s band, I thought "I miss this."  There are a lot more distractions when you're thin.  For me, they have included mostly men and clothes.  I also feel a stronger need to fit in than I ever did before.  When I was fat, I knew there was no hope of ever fitting in to a tiny little mold.  That was so liberating knowing I could never please everyone, so why try?  I think I have preserved a lot of my personality, but in some ways I have succumbed to the glamorous, shallow world we live in.  I confess that sometimes going on a date with my fiance is not as great unless I have a great outfit.  And I'm constantly inquiring "how does this look?" "does this make me look fat?" "what about from this angle?"  

But let's be honest--I did that when I was fat too.  Only the context was different.  At that time I asked if I looked fat and prayed I could believe them when they responded "no."  While I couldn't wear fabulous outfits, and rarely went on dates, I was no less focused on my appearance.  From deciding how to layer fabrics to cover every bulge from knees to arms, to tugging on my pants when they rolled over from the weight of my gut, I painfully aware of my appearance, and moreover my weight.

Okay, Okay, maybe I don't wish I were still fat.  I guess what I should say is:  I'm still a fat girl at heart, and I hope I always will be.  Because she was and is pretty freaking awesome.  And now she can rock a size 4 jacket like no one else.  

Hey guys

A new post ohmygosh what's happening?!  Well, in the nearly 2 years since my last post, I've been leading a fairly mundane life as a thin person and I have loved it.  I met my fiance about 2 1/2 years ago and last Halloween we became engaged.  Not sure yet whether we are gettting married this summer or next.  After a year post op (that would be Memorial Day 2011) I lost about another dozen lbs.  I think my lowest weight was 148 which I probably saw for 1 second on the scale.  For pretty much the next year I maintained 151-154 on the scale.  Unfortunately during the past year my weight has been pretty solidly centered around 156, not having seen below 154 for the better part of 1 year and also (obviously) not losing any more.  All those exercise goals I made...um yeah, well those pretty much went by the wayside as well.  I've been doing exactly as I was told not to do--I've been eating like a normal thin person.  I still have restriction in that I cannot usually eat more than about 1/2 of any serving, sometimes as little as 1/4.  But the problem is the snacking and the excess calories.  I think to myself "any thin person would lose weight eating as I do, even if I did have that REAL coke"--but unfortunately the surgery did not give me the awesome metabolism of a naturally thin person.  My metabolism still sucks.  So even as unfair as it may be, I have to eat less than everyone else just in order to maintain my weight.  I must remember that.  Sweets still make me kind of sick and nauseous, so I don't do that much of them, I'm lactose intolerant.  I usually eat a pretty healthy breakfast, but I have been known to visit the vending machine.  Snacking is the worst and I know that carb monster lures me in.  

 

I had plastic surgery on December 17 (about 10 days ago).  I had a full tummy tuck with muscle repair and a breast augmentation.  I was 157 day of surgery.

Let me start with the good.  The tummy tuck.

Much to my disbelief, I awoke from surgery and did not feel any pain in my stomach muscles or the incision.  The breasts have definitely dominated on the pain.  This was opposite to what I had been told.  I understood the tummy tuck was going to be the worst and that I'd be all hunched over.  I'm completely straight at 10 days, and I never was as bent over as I thought I'd be.  I'm a little bit disappointed as to the scar placement as it's about 1" above where the bathing suits I want to wear fall.  At first I was pretty ticked because the scar is only a few inches below my new belly button, but I don't think she could have made it much lower.  My stomach looks so odd.  It's completely flat, but still has some stretch marks (booooo was pretty sad about this), and is very taught because it's swollen.  I think I will like it, but as of this morning I weighed 167lbs. (yoweee that's a tough pill to swallow) and I have to wear an abdominal binder which completely squeezes me, and none of my clothes fit.  It really sucks feeling so fat after all of this work :(  Also I have not really seen my scar because it's behind steri-strips so I don't have a judgment on that yet.

 

Now the breasts.  I am horribly unhappy.  I have always been flat on top.  In some ways it was a source of pride because it was the only thin thing about me.  I never really considered getting a boob job until I started looking into tummy tucks.  Obviously the two are combined frequently, and in doing so a lot of the cost of the breast augmentation is covered already by the tummy tuck.  Also all my consults assured me how much more proportionate I would look with breasts.  Apparently that is code word for:  we need to fatten up the rest of your body to match your already fat body.  I HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE it.  I feel like I'm not being true to myself.  I'm adding "fat" to my body and that's the last thing I want to do!  Unlike the tummy which was an unexpectedly easy surgery, the boobs have been awful.  I have so much discomfort and stretching.  I feel like I've ruined myself.  So much in fact that I'm considering having an explant as soon as they will do one.  The downside is that is basically two surgeries worth of money spent to be basically back where you started if not a little worse!  But every day I have to spend in this fake boob body is killing me.  It's just not me.  It might be good for some people, or I can see filling in what has been lost, but for me it's just a big FAKE.

So that's where I am now.  Swollen, happy with my new tummy, terribly depressed over my new boobs.  Whatever the end result may be, I'm vowing to make 2014 the year of my best body.  

 Just a quick post on my typical eats.  My weightloss has completely stalled out, and I'm trying to decide whether I'm fine with that or not.  I try to never (no matter how "hungry" I am) eat more than half of anything served at a restaurant.  I've also been trying to do a good deal of cooking at home, including packing bentos.  I also try to only order what I like (what a novel idea!) like just some filet at a great steakhouse.  So luxurious.  But for now, I thought I'd share my bentos with you.  Typically:  I eat the meat, usually the carbier side (tisk), and a small bite of the fruit/veg--that section is usually left.  I get hungry pretty soon after eating, and that's what gets me into trouble, not the formal meals.

 
4 organic chicken nuggest, purple coleslaw (made w/ ff mayo), cheese sticks (ate about half of these, so maybe 2 oz.), cucumber (ate), grape tomatoes (had 1), bell pepper and hummus (none)
 
Leftover pepper beef (3-4 oz., only ate half), 3 pieces roasted asparagus, 2 marinated mushrooms (only 1), 1/4 c. tabbouleh with feta (all!)

 
homemade chicken salad, 1/3 cup (with ff mayo, celery, parsley, grapes, and touch of curry), sm. handful grapes (ate!), cucumbers (ate with chicken salad), few grape tomatoes (a couple), 2 mini bell peppers (think I finally ate one later), couple pieces of cheese (ate).  Must've been hungry

 
About 2 pieces pepper beef (ate), 1 mushroom cap (ate), 1/4 c. corn and black bean salad (ate), chicken salad (did not eat), cheese (ate), 3 mini bell peppers (ate 1)

So this is kinda how it goes

 You may have noticed the new bar up at the top called "my journey" and I'm reposting that here

Describe your behavioral and emotional battle with weight control before learning about bariatric surgery.

Not unlike many of you, I had been overweight my entire life.  I lived life shrouded by the struggles of weight.  I went on my first formal diet at age 9:  Weight Watchers.  I would try Weight Watchers on and off over the years.  The closest I ever came to a "normal" weight was when I was thirteen and I resorted to a severely restricted diet of canned soups, vigorous exercise, and purging.  Weight quickly piled back on and the remainder of my teen years can be mapped by which diet I was on.     By the time I entered college I weighed in at 250lbs..  I found it difficult to make friends on a very social campus.  I tried protein sparing modified fasts followed by hcg injections and got down to around 217lbs.  But like every other diet before it, the weight came forcefully back on.     I first started contemplating weightloss surgery the summer before my final year of college.  I was fed up with living a life held back by my physical shape, and making excuses for everything I couldn't accomplish, couldn't do, and people I couldn't meet because of my weight.  I got cold feet and put off surgery until the Memorial Day weekend after college graduation.  At 277 lbs. and growing every day, I felt surgery was the only way for me to change my path.   My battle was more emotional than behavioral.  Always having been overweight, I had taken an early interest in health, food, and cooking.  Even though my efforts were, seemingly, in vain, I always took special care to eat well rounded meals, even if they were large.  The behavioral battle was mostly a product of the trying to become healthy itself.  I was always on a diet.  And when I was not, OH BOY I was decidedly not.     The emotional battle was (is) still the most difficult part of having been an obese child.  Children can be cruel, and it is in those formative years when you know no better than to accept someone's opinion of you as the reality.  I will get into that in more detail in the next question.  

What was (is) the worst thing about being overweight?

Where to begin?!  I guess I should start by saying what was NOT so bad.  Speaking from the other (thin) side, I almost feel like I have some credibility to talk about my former overweight self.  She was a pretty fine person.  I spent too much time brooding over what was not when I should have been celebrating what was.  I am thankful I had her and lived with her for so long.  She is brilliant, she is kind.  She knows enough to take more interest than just in how someone looks.  She knows that there is so much more to the world than peoples' opinions (gave up on those long ago!).  I thought she was lacking in so many ways.  But from the other side I can tell you it was pretty dang good.   That being said...I know all this and I'm a stronger person for it.  But that doesn't mean I would necessarily go through all the pain and heartache of being overweight, especially an overweight child, again.  I remember all the Easters, Halloweens, Christmases when dresses and costumes were so difficult to find.  Typically it was a game of what sequined potato sack would fit.  When I was an overweight child, there was such a scarce selection of "pretty plus" clothing.  I remember feeling inadequate as a child.  "There must be something wrong if clothing makers don't even want to make clothes to fit me."  Normal outings to dinner could sometimes be tearful, unable to find anything in my closet.  Gym class should've been renamed "An Exercise in Humiliation."  I know they are trying to teach you to be active, but instead it taught me that activity was just a new age form of abuse and was a way for everyone to see just how short I fell...in disgusting gym clothes, no less.  Lunchtime meant roaming from table to table just seeing if there was a spot for me.  Luckily by highschool I'd given up all attempts to fit in and took on the "brooding loner" image.     College presented me with new challenges.  I was always "the friend."  The worst part was that men assumed that I KNEW I was the friend.  They'd confide in me, and indeed even flirt with me all working under the theory that they could not be held accountable for leading me on because God knows I would know there was no way we'd ever be together.  And in college there was a new, formal, way of telling me I wasn't cool enough to be your friend:  they're called sororities.  I tried to strategically design my class schedule so that I could make it from class to class with time for a "breather" and "cooldown" before entering.  Desks were so small:  were these desks designed for kindergarteners?!     I hated shopping for clothes, obviously.  They were ill-fitting and untrendy.  I could never take part in the favorite pasttime that was shopping.  There seems to be a typical thought that fat people can wear shoes.  I'd like to disspell this myth.  It is simply not true that I could wear cute, trendy shoes.  My feet were too fat and they rubbed blisters where the fat hung over.  Panties and pants rolled down underneath the weight of my belly fat.  Friends often tried to shelter me, but in the process of doing so treated me like an entirely different class of person.  As if I was unaware of my size or the stares.  Speaking of that, I often received stares...or worse, unacknowledged.  Desks, bathroom stalls, airplane seats, and movie seats were my arch nemesis.  Have you seen the size of some of those bathroom stalls?!  And I cannot even tell you how often I practiced putting on car seatbelts practicing how NOT to let them lock into position because I'd unraveled it so much.  At a movie or sporting even I'm sure every muscle in my body was tensed trying to ensure that my legs would not creep over invading someone else's seat.  And those are just to name a few.

If you have had weight loss surgery already, what things do you most enjoy doing now that you weren't able to do before?

CROSSING MY LEGS!  Oh my goodness I used to crave this.  And yes, it is THAT good!  Shopping in normal stores, enjoying shopping.  Though I'll admit it's a little overwhelming and I'm convinced plus size clothes became trendy and normal clothes went to crap when I lost weight.     Buying medium panties at Vicky Secrets and they actually fit...well...like wow this is how underwear is supposed to fit hmmm.   People see ME, not my weight   What I enjoy doing most are the things I don't do!  Like thinking about clothing, strategizing chairs or social moves, etc.     Towels wrap around!   high-waisted pants.  White pants   Go-karting, river rafting, horseback riding, dancing lessons--all firsts that I wouldn't probably have considered pre-op   Letting go and having fun!

 Hello dear readers.  Sorry for being so out of pocket recently.  Eventually your life becomes less and less consumed with surgery and you find yourself getting back to "normalcy."  I am at that point now.  It is a wonderful and scary place to be at the same time.  I have finally gotten to a place where weight is not a constant concern.  Before I had two gears:  protest un-dieting, or dieting.  And always, always, ALWAYS miserable with my body.  What on earth do I do with all that freed up energy that used to be spent on weight concerns?!  Well hopefully you're about to find out 

First, by the numbers:

Current weight:  151.2
Weight loss:  -125.8
Weight loss in past 6 months (12-18 months):  -12.6lbs.
Dress size:  solidly 8, several 6's, ideally somewhere in-between
Have not taken measurements again but will update those soon.

Things have changed a lot since the year mark.  The first 6 months everything was new--I felt the need to ask so many questions and have so many new experiences.  They were all rehearsal.  6-12 months was still about weightloss, but getting more into the groove of things, learning to "diet" started to come naturally.  I started to know how my body would react.  Since the year mark I have not made weightloss my number 1 focus.  I have now reached that infamous 18 month mark where people seem to suggest it's impossible to lose more weight.  I intend to lose another 25 or so pounds of fat and maybe put on 10 pounds of muscle to be an ideal weight and composition.  But, no, I'm not killing myself to do that right now.  I think that "honeymoon" or "window" is a silly idea.  Is it possible that you reach a point where you become more relaxed with rules or get burned out on some of the rigid food rules?  Absolutely I believe that, which is why I never had those rules in the first place  So it's impossible for me to burn out on something I never did!  I knew whatever I did would need to be applicable for me throughout life.  And therefore I do very little different now than I did a year ago.  

Those first 6 months I stuck more to the food rules, out of necessity.  And I would say I still eat more protein and eat it first, again, out of necessity.  But that's where the rules stop.  I am perfectly willing to admit that what works for me would not work for everyone else.  In fact, it may be detrimental to your success so always proceed with careful consideration.  However, it works for me and I think -125 post op sounds successful enough to not change course.  I think the most important thing is to take care of your sleeve.  I will be completely honest with you:  the only thing standing between me and a size 22 is my small stomach.  Given that stomach again, I'm sure I would be that weight again.  So I try to be ultra careful to not overeat.

My biggest regret is not exercising.  I plan to start exercising...ha...we'll see.  I do notice women who are larger than I often look better in clothese because my belly is flabby.

I regularly get asked on here if I've had plastics.  Y'all are too kind.  But no!  I would only now even begin to consider plastics, anyway.  You are supposed to have maintained your goal weight for a year.  I've only been in an acceptable "goal" range since 1 year--at least what I would consider.  I'm still a little torn on whether I would have plastics or not.  If someone gave me free money, I can't say that I'd immediately vote to go under the knife again.  Not that surgery was all that bad, just that I'm not too terribly concerned with it.  Will you have flabby skin, stretch marked skin after surgery?  Will you lose hair?  I can almost guarantee it.  But if you are letting these concerns stand in the way of you and a smaller, healthier, happier life, then I would seriously reevaluate your rationale for having surgery.  Because these items should not be deal breakers.  My greatest concern would have to be my stomach because no matter what I ever do, there will always be stretch marks.  And I can see skin hanging down (granted, not much, thank god for youth) when I bend over, and a slight little roll over under thinner shirts.  It's certainly not the end of the world, but I will never don the bikini with my other slender (or in some cases, not so slender but flawless, unstretched skin) friends.  I don't typically let it bother me, but that is a surgery I would consider.  I know the other popular plastic surgery of choice is the boobs.  I can't really speak to that because for the first time I can be thankful for my, ahem, small endowment that did not shrink or sag.  Just small.  Still.  Haha.

Milestones of the past 6 months:

The past six months have involved many more "life" milestones than "weightloss" milestones.  For one, I have been dating a guy for 5 1/2 months now.  We have done so many things that I never would have imagined before.  I allow myself to have more fun.  Now this is a complicated thing to admit.  I never liked it when people would suggest before that I might be harder to approach because of non-weight related issues. Read:  get over yourself there are many reasons people wouldn't accept you besides your weight, just pick one.  I never liked that because I honestly thought people did not know me enough to even know what they didn't like about me--they just didn't like my appearance.  And I still think that's 98% the truth.  For the occassions when that wasn't true--I was not "fun" enough or "approachable" enough:  I had good reason and it stemmed from being fat!  So it still came back around to the fat! 

...Getting back to the point.  For example, I went on a go-karting date.  I would never have done that before.  Not because I wasn't a sweet, fun, person, but because I probably could not have physically done it.  The go-karts were strange fitting as it was.  And even if I had taken a chance on it as a 277lb. person, I would have spent the entire day worrying about how I would fit, if there would be a weight limit, what I would do if a worker were to call me out on it, How on earth I would shimmy out of there and then try to muster a smile and proceed with the date and look "cool" and "fun."  Oh all the time I spent turning these things over and over in my head.  It made it miserable!  I've also been horseback riding, and river floating (twice).  I've gotten in hottubs with people (one-piece swimsuit, of course!).  I've taken dancing lessons with my boyfriend.  I am a graduate TA and I teach two discussions that are a HAUL across campus in a 10 minute period.  I literally could not have physically tolerated that before.  I would have dreaded this walk, could not have near made it in time, and I would have been sweating and huffing by the time I arrived.  I remember so well in undergrad having to plan a 2 minute "breather" to catch my breath after walking before the next class started so the person sitting next to me in class would not think they needed to call a paramedic!  But no!  Now I signed up for these classes to teach.  

I think I've said this before--people are nicer.  They talk to me more.  Sure, maybe I am more "approachable."  Men certainly approach me more.  I take even more pride in my appearance.  I tried to be well put together before and I think I was always a pretty good dresser, but there are limits to how you can dress a 277lb. body and a 151lb. body.  I simply couldn't pull off cute clubby looks before, not when I was worried about having a long enough dress or wearing leggings, covering my arms with shrugs.  Byt the time I was done with my cute look, it'd be covered with an additional 6 layers of coverup clothing!!

And as wonderful as all this treatment is, it confirms some of my greatest fears.  The stark contrast between life then and now, at least in the way strangers relate to me, makes me recognize the pain of being overweight all the more.  For every stranger who goes out of their way to be kind to me now, I remember the stares of before, or worse, the ones who avoided looking at me altogether.  While I know my boyfriend loves so much in me, least of all my appearance (though he likes that too!), I can't help but know he would not have started up a conversation with me before.  In some ways I'm growing more and more protective of that person and she begins to fade more and more from my day to day life.  As I forget little things like tugging up my rolled over pants, and planning to take a breather, I begin to worry that I will not be able to identify with the person I was my entire life.  I sometimes forget and that's beautiful and a bit scary.  I'm very protective of that little girl.  For as much as has changed in her, she is still there.  And I still sometimes feel a bit like a sellout.  

I'm proud of myself for finally realizing the dream I dreamt for so long.  But I also begin to recognize how silly some of the changes are.  When I'm with my family over Thanksgiving, or whenever, I realize it's only the outfit that's changed, really.  Sure, that outfit has enabled me to do things I didn't do before.  But they were always things I wanted to do, just didn't have the right "gear" to do them!  

I guess one of the hardest things is that people can't relate to me.  I thought it was horrible the special treatment I got before.  Friends didn't know I knew what they were doing when they would deflect negative comments in a club, or try to avoid the weight issue.  Now people treat me like a thin person and sometimes, just sometimes, I wish they'd be more sensitive to the fact that I'm obese, really.  They don't understand what I went through.  What I GO through.  They couldn't.  My support group grounds me.  I believe those are the secret to success.

So I had a kind of bittersweet surgiversary.  With recognizing all the good newness also comes the grief about all the time I spent trapped...and possibly that I was a prisoner of my own device (salute Eagles!).  

In case you're lost and looking for a conclusion...this is a great, wonderful journey.  No, it's not all roses.  I wouldn't trade it in for the world.  Because ultimately I am me.  I am the me that wonderful obese me dreamed about becoming and I did it.  Not only that, I do things that obese me wanted to do but couldn't because she was held back by weight.  I am still me, only better. 













And....drumroll....

2011!!!!!

 I expect this post to be completely off topic.

I wanted to catch y'all up on my life.  Mostly because I want a place for myself to digest is   I think I had mentioned at different points my future education choices.  They had been eating me alive.  Law or Economics?  Stay or go?  I had been set on Law (though, admittedly, very unstead) and then I was at an Economics Roundtable, surrounded by my great heros, and realized I *have* to do this.  This realization came a little late--almost too late--a mere two days before law school orientation.  Nothing like waiting down the wire.  Understandably I was on the receiving end of a lot of raised eyebrows, criticism, frustration.  Now I'm two days into math camp, and I have to admit that it's not completely smooth.  I've never met this level of self doubt.  This is really the first thing I've ever signed up for that I'm not certain I can finish.  There's a strong temptation to sell myself short, reason why I cannot do this as opposed to paying it forward.  Don't you know how much easier it would be to be a quitter?  I'm looking into myself and trying to "fake it until I make it."

If nothing else, this process (of applying to, deciding over, and starting grad school) has been very illuminating of my strengths and weaknesses.  It goes without saying that I'm indecisive.  I also try to choose the seal tight best decision.  But I need to understand that things change.  So right now my plan is to put forth the two years of (HARD) work in Econ to at least get a master's.  At that point I'll reevaluate.  If I have a great job opportunity, I might do that.  Or law is certainly still an option.  Or continue toward the Ph.D. (after the two years, it's mostly just research and dissertation, anyway!), or even consider the dual JD/PhD.  Basically, I'm the master of my own destiny.  It will be okay.  It's scary not knowing.  

So this is why I've been slightly aloof...like all summer.  And if you don't hear from me again, like ever, look for my name among the economist tragedies!  

 Loss this week:  -1lb.
Total loss:  -120.8lbs.

A couple weeks ago my scale jumped WAY up--like 4-6lbs. in the time of a couple days.  Then it started coming down last week, and on Saturday this week I think I was finally back to breaking even.  And finally by today I had lost more weight!  I do definitely get the feeling that my weightloss has come off cruise control.  Now I'm trying to decide what to do about it.  I've gone through so many changes over the past 62 weeks and I'm kinda tired of focusing on my weight.  I am lucky in that I've had to do very little to really change my eating.  I eat very healthily and I've continued to do so, just about 1/4 portions.  I have not added exercise and I know that will be a MUST.  But I honestly think I can probably keep doing what I'm doing and maintain this weight.  Now, that is NOT what I want to do.  I want to lose about another 30lbs. max.  But I'm growing tired of the process.  I'm torn between being satisfied for now and really digging in later, or if later will be too late and I need to keep whatever momentum I have.  

So I know you all have missed my ramblings.  Well, at least one of you.  So I had some more thoughts.  When they come up I have to go with them, no matter how verbose I feel afterward :)

LIMITLESS & WARP SPEED:

I just watched the movie Limitless last night.  If you have not seen it, maybe you'll recall the story:  What if you could tap into all of your brain's potential instead of just the 2% or whatever it is that they theorize we actually use.  What if everything you ever saw or heard or learned could be sorted and become available to you when you needed it?  You'd be pretty damned smart, that's what!  And Bradley Cooper basically lives this Warp Speed life.  And it's easy for him to get in over his head.  I can sometimes feel like this after WLS.  Too much information, too much living, too fast.  Is this because I'm younger?  Is there some personality trait I have that makes me more apt to experience this?  So much of the world felt, at the very least, closed off to me before.  Now the flood gates have been opened.  Will the levees hold?  I can see how people can go a little crazy after surgery.  Possibilities begat choices and obstacles and complications.  Sometimes I wish life would slow back down for just a second to catch my breath.  But then as soon as it slows down, I'm saddened that it's not as fast as it usually is.  I also get transfer addiction and how it could be an easy slip.  If nothing else, it's fun to go out and party now.  And beyond that, I'm thinking there is more control in our loss of control addictions.  I can also see how marriages might suffer.  We are changing.  Very, very rapidly.  I think people underestimate what a change WLS really is.  I remember asking that before I had the surgery and people mostly stuck with the politically correct answer of "you are still you."  Was I really who I was before?  Did I act the way I WANTED to act?  COULD I act the way I wanted to?  No, it was a facade.  It had to be.  I couldn't be an uninhibited fun girl with the 120lbs.  Ain't gonna happen.  Now I can be who I want to be.  But after years of acting out that part I knew by heart, and now changing so quickly, it's hard for me to know who that is, much less expect someone else to get that.  I think patience would have to be the key to these serious relationships in our lives.  What doesn't work, I don't believe, is just loving the old person.  That person's gone.  I killed her because she was killing me.  I don't want you to love her.  I am over her.  I moved beyond her.  I GREW.  I want you to love me.  I made the choice to better myself and I know people are trying to be sweet when they say something like "I loved the old you."  But it doesn't make me feel all warm and fuzzy.  It sometimes makes me feel like you had undersold me.  You had lower expectations for me.  Note:  this is all very in general 

Onto issue number two:
BITTERNESS:

Maybe this blog should be called DIARY OF A MAD FORMERLY FAT WOMAN.  I know bitterness is not good.  And yet I don't know how to move past it.  You will find that along with all the great new experiences you have as a thin (er) person, comes the bittersweet feeling of all that you'd missed.  Some of you may have been thin at some point in your life.  I was not.  I was shrouded by weight and the emotions that went along with that.  My identity was established as a fat child--and let me tell you kids are no jewels when it comes to bolstering your self esteem.  That being said, in many ways I'm grateful.  Because of my fat upbringing I learned to be content with myself in a lot of other ways.  I knew I'd have to be my own best playmate and friend and so I poured myself into music and politics and economics, etc.  I like all those aspects about myself.  But I still wonder about the things I would have done if I could have.  I wanted to be on the pom squad so bad I can still feel it in the pit of my stomach.  There was no way.  Closest I ever got was probably when I took dance lessons in the 9th grade and weighed about 190--pretty low for me!  I still think about those dances, the pep rallies, the football games and cringe that was never and will never be a part of my story.  EVER.  NEVER.  And it makes me very sad all those similar experiences I lost out on.  For one main reason.  One horribly unfair reason that I worked for YEARS to resolve.  It wasn't for lack of effort or desire.  Though I certainly have been on the receiving end of much of the blame the victim campaign.  Even now I'll see friends who cheer for some silly arena football team or something and wish I could do it.  Yeah, ha.  No experience, stretch marks, cellulite.  Fat chance.  Similarly, I think about college.  My first semester I went away to school.  I went through sorority rush, lived in the dorms, the whole shebang.  I *knew* how it would end up for me.  I just knew it.  But I hoped against all odds I'd be wrong just once.  All those highschool teachers who'd promised college would be a whole new world.  Well, it wasn't.  And the worst part is I know for fact what a difference my weight would have made.  I can remember going through rush.  Good grades, bright girl, extra curriculars, legacies.  Cut, cut, cut, cut, cut.  Almost every one of them.  I'm not saying weight was my only flaw and now I'm god-like.  But for anyone to sit there with a straight face and suggest to me that nearly all of those sororities made that determination not on the basis of weight?  Well you're from a different world.  I've always commented that if I didn't like people now who didn't like me before that I wouldn't like anyone.  Ok, so that's a gross over-exaggeration.  But you get the idea.  I do have a hard time coming to terms with how much easier life is now.  How much nicer people are.  And for what?  Because my clothing size is smaller?!  Sure, I act a little differently, but which came first the chicken or the egg?  I acted differently before because I was treated differently, not the reverse order!  I'm mad that people suddenly want to hang out with me or date me.  Try carrying on a conversation with my -120.  Ain't gonna happen because it means nothing.  You're taking me out--that same someone you passed over at rush or evaded at a bar.  I made the decision to have surgery not for health reasons:  I was pretty much a clean bill of health.  I made the decision to have surgery not because I thought I'd look better.  I made the decision to have surgery because I knew the rules of the game in this world.  I HATE THEM.  I DETEST THEM.  But I knew them.  And at the end of the day I knew I couldn't change the world.  So I could choose to carry this cause with me, losing out all along the way.  Or I could play by the rules of the game.  Ultimately, I did the latter and had the surgery.  I guess I'm still struggling with hating the game and the rules.  And I'm trying to learn to be comfortable with benefitting from it now.  Even then, though, I have a really hard time letting go of the missed opportunities and the people who hurt me.  

This is from a tea party about 3 weeks back I had with my sister and our gorgeous wonderful beauty pageant queen friend (oh yeah, another thing I'll never do)

 Loss this week:  -1.4lbs.
Total loss:  -119.8lbs.
Weight this week:  157.2lbs.

I like seeing this downward trend!  I don't have too much to say this week.  We celebrated my sister's 21st birthday in grand style.  This weekend was my niece's 2nd birthday and so my family swooped 4 hours down to Dallas, had the party, and then the 4 hour trek back.  The air conditioning at mmy house has been out so the goal of my life has been to do as little as possible.  Hopefully it will get fixed today.

Oh yeah, I do remember what I was going to comment on today!  

FOOD FIGHT!!!--Do you guys find that food is more or less of an issue now?  Shockingly, I find it's less of an issue.  I used to be freaky controlling about food.  Someone would bring me something to eat that wasn't on my diet?--I'd FREAK out.  Or even if one of my parents bought something for themselves to indulge in, I'd get frustrated that they were tempting me in such a way.  I wanted people to diet with me.  But then when I wanted to go off my diet, that was the rule of the land, and I defy anyone to say otherwise.  It was a very controlled issue, yet unstable. 

I can see how this might swing the other way for some people, and it's more of an issue after WLS.  For those of you who adhere to a very strict diet regimen, and have unsupportive family members who try to tempt you.  Also, I know that we have more particular ways/foods of eating, and need to eat more consistently.  I have always been frustrated when people did no understand the importance of regularity of meals.  That has always been a top priority for me (because of my blood sugar issues) so luckily most people know that I'm like Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde if they don't feed me!  And as far as being tempted--I'm less tempted because nothing is completely off limits, and I think my family pushes less because they know how far I've come.

Photojournalism...

Wore this a couple weeks ago to wine tasting.  Felt HOTT.  Thought I'd share :)



What I wore out on Saturday (no makeup in pic!!).  I was at a bar and crossing my legs and I didn't hate what I saw!


Tried on size 8 Express jeans yesterday...and they FIT!  Like really well!  So exciting.  That now means 8's basically fit all around.  Hurray!  (But I didn't buy...I'm holding out on expensive jeans until I'm firmly in a 4 or so)


White shift dress I picked up at consignment store for $8.50

Tried on size 6 Calvin Klein dress.  A little too tight but dayum I kinda like it

And...drumroll...the best for last, and all thanks to Frisco for making me buy it and then fixing up my photo....