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While talking to my baby sister yesterday, she asked, "How is the weight loss coming?" I said, "Its coming along OK."  She jumped on the word OK like a bird on a June bug.  "What the *&^*&*%$$% did I mean by, OK", she asked. " Have you lost your mind?  You are not stretching your pouch are you?  Are you overeating?  Are you gaining weight? Are you exercising? What is wrong with you?  Did you let them cut on your just to be, OK.  You have come too far to be just, OK! Have you lost sight of the prize? Keep your eyes on the prize!"  She wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise.  I probably would have whined something that sounded like "but you don't understand" or  "poor me", anyway. So I found myself laughing and when she took a breath, I said a simple thank you.

This morning when I woke up, the sun sure looked bright.  I took my vitamins, baked some chicken, dusted off my food scale, made a great big pitcher of Crystal Light raspberry Lemonade, and I sit at my table looking out at such a beautiful day, wearing a dress that is way to big for me.  Life is good. I am blessed. 

Thanks baby sis for a good swift kick in my pants! 

I am six pounds from 100 lost  Six. 6.  So why have I been doing things that slowed that accomplishment?  I could not fully understand where my head was.  Something was not right.  Thank God for OH because two things happened.  One)  I read H*** post about complacency, rationalization and grazing.  Two) I saw that B*** had reported that she was home from the hospital, I had the strangest feelings. I realizes I wanted her to share in "detail" how she was transitioning.  

Let me see if I can word this right.  OK, here goes. I miss the last four months. I was giddy with the challenge of  drinking only prescribed liquids pre and post op.  I miss that feeling of - sweet victory!  I miss the newness of feeling full.  I miss becomng excited about learning to eat all over again.  I miss that first high of seeing my baggy jeans. I miss complaining about how much I was learning to hate boiled and scrambled eggs.  Call the guys with the belted jacket - because I realize that I miss the experience of dumping when I ate something I knew I shouldn't  have - the combined feeling of fear and excitement of my "first time".  Everybody warned about dumping and hey - I was dumping!  I guess what I am experiencing Is kinda like the empty nest thingie. All those feelings of wanting to strangle your teen are starting to fade and I need a new baby. All those big, exciting, scary, rewarding "first times" are gone. 

Oh my goodness.  I realize that  I can't wait for B*** to write about her experiences so I can live vicariously through her, relive those "first times".  So what do addicts do when that high is not there? They use.  And, food is my drug of choice.  But just like a drug addict - I am chasing the high (grazing) with no success.  My relationship with food was killing me.  I need to be careful never to let that happen again.  Be ever vigilante.  I am an addict for life, whether I am using or not.   I have six pounds to lose to get to 100. I need to get busy living or give in to dying - slowly - but dying just the same! 

The scales are playing with my emotions. Up and down 2-3 pounds.  I'd like to think I am not worried, not concerned.  But, it sure makes me stop and take an assessment of what I am eating and  making sure I don't get complacent, and get my butt back to the gym. The further I get from my WLS date, the more I push the envelope.  I have gotten slack in measuring and I sometimes skip meals.  My taste buds change from day to day.  I used to love a good T-bone steak.  Now, a few bites and I put it aside.  Just doesn't taste the same. I never thought I would rather have a bowl of  navy bean soup. 

I know they tell you not to put all your hopes in the "scale", but I know this... it sure will humble you when you see the numbers go up instead of down.  Heck, I could write 91 lbs lost, but that blasted scale keeps creeping back those 2-3 pounds.  I am humbled to the point of submission!

When I first joined OH, I asked a lot of questions about when I would see changes to go along with the weight loss.  Thankfully, you all assured me that it would happen, that there is a lot of fat that I couldn't see - like the fat they had to cut through to get to my stomach.  Well, when I lost my 9 month looking tummy, I understood.  Now I only look about two months preggie.  But,. good greasy gravy, I can't get over the loss of fat in my face.  I guess some have picked up on this.  But, honestly,. I think of the number of times someone said, you have such a nice face, I can't imagine how you would look if you lost some weight.  OOOOOOh, the resentment that I felt at those words.  But, I am shamed to say, I understand better now.  Although the comment was insensitive, there is some truth to it.   I can't stop looking at my new jar line that continues to define itself as I lose weight.  I feel so vain because I can't stop staring.... and smiling.  Woo hoo! I am happy for the renewed health, but this looking better thing is a great perk! 

I need to get these thoughts and feelings out there.  It helps me to evolve.  I thought I was being subtle as I looked at myself in a friends living room mirror.  He said, "you really are enjoying this weight loss thing aren't you."  I just smile at him.  But, inside I screamed "YOU BETCHA".  God, forgive me I fee so vain.  Tee Hee 

I feel pretty happy as I write this.  I am going to a friend's retirement dinner. Mind you I have clothes in several sizes in my closets - but, I wanted something new. I went bargain hunting. I tried on a nice priced dress. On a whim I decided to try the next smaller size and to my amazement, it fit.  I stared at myself in the mirror for the longest time. I don't remember the feeling. Amazement?  I bought the larger size. Denial I guess. Feeling happy, I went to a 2nd store, found a lovely dress in the smaller size. Again, I stared at myself in the mirror. I had to share the excitement with someone, so I shared with the clerk who offered the appropriate praise to send me out the store with a big smile.  I took the first dress back.  Color me happy happy happy.  

 I cried when I first tipped the scales at 189 - I was 26..  I hit Weight Watchers and the track - jogging.  I cried in rage at 30 when I read a medical chart that the doctor left on the counter. It read "30 year old obese black female". I went home, looked up that word obese and cried with a broken heart.  I wanted to demand that he take that word out of my chart.  I weighed,  realized I had gone up a dress size, shut my mouth and went back to the track!  At 39, after the birth of my daughter that they told me I would never have - I creeped. 226, 203, 229, 240,246, 262,  279, 289. Over the past 19 years, I have cried so many times i have lost count.  I cried in hurt when my ex-husband called me "fat'.  I cried in frustration when I couldn't get on my expensive gown and had to wear a business suit to an evening affair.  I cried in shame when on the subway, men used to get up and give me their seat - it was a while before i realized they thought I was pregnant.  This was a mixed blessing - I got a seat on a crowded train every evening.  I cried when my young but honest daughter pointed out "mom see that lady - that is how fat you are and you walk like her too."  I cried in exasperation when I saw what I later learned was a "Moon Face"  in the mirror. I went to bed and did not get up for two days.  That was less than 10 months ago.  That was the end that led to my new beginning.  Something in me snapped. I moved forward from the darkness into the light with a vengeance, researching weight loss clinics and surgeons. 

I cried with joy when I got my date for WLS.  I cried with relief when I woke up and realized I had survived my surgery and a new day was begun.  I cried in Ecstasy when I went below 300 pounds.  I cried in amazement the other day when I went below 260.  Yep, now days, the new me doesn't mind being a BIG CRY BABY.  

I bought a belt yesterday.  A woman's belt.  You see the other belt I have been wearing to hold up my increasingly baggie jeans belonged to someone I used to date who was a nicely rounded law officer.  Crazy, but we knew each other 30 years before when we were both younger and smaller.  I accepted his weight, but he often teased me about my gain.  Did I say I used to date him?

When I think that I used wear his belt out to the first hole boggles my mind. Do I have to tell that he could wear it in the 4th or 5th hole?  Dang, gotta confess everything on this site!  I can't remember the last time I walked into a shop and bought a woman's belt.  (18 years?) Even those in full size didn't fit.  I might add that I spent about 10 minutes trying on belts until I found the longest one close to the floor.  But, hey... I found it, it is not the color I wanted, or even the design, but OMG it fits and I have tried it on three or four times today.  I take my successes where I can find them!   

I have said this before, but it bears repeating.  One of my greatest challenges is how I see myself.   So I take lots of pictures.  Besides sharing photos and having others encourage and applaud the visual changes, it serves as an honest history of our journey.  Even then we showcase our "best" pics.  Last night, I took a friend out for her birthday.  I was very uncomfortable - what do I drink in a sports bar? Surprisingly, they had unsweetened tea.   I got a big glass and settled in for the night. I danced, danced danced and did not have to sit down to catch my breath.  The place was not crowded.  I danced with my friend; but most often with myself.  My tiny 5'2" friend, who probably weighs 105 pounds soak and wet was dancing with two guys!!  Didn't matter.  I felt pretty - oh so pretty.  So pretty that when i got home, I took out the camera to memorialize the look.  WELL!  The little skinny me that was dancing around the floor was in for a rude awakening. I was still fat!  Don't get me wrong, I have made great strides. Hey 70 plus pounds is nothing to sneeze at.  But, I have 110 more to go.   I am continously changing.  I am happily losing my chins, shoulders, abdomen, and butt.  Yet, that fat resting on my thighs is giving me a run for the money.  What I am trying to say, is that I realize that I must continue to do a self check with that camera so that I will know that thinking I am skinny is just an illusion.  However, I think feeling skinny on the inside is healthy. It will help me to embrace rather than sabotage my weight loss. You know exactly what I mean!  We can lie to ourselves about our weight better than anyone else. You know these: " you are not that fat, you are big boned", or " you carry you weight really well", or  " at least you are not as big as ****.  Truthfully, compared to what I was, my being skinny is a perception - rather than an illusion.  For now.  I can live with that!  Woo Hoo!

Unlike Thanksgiving and my feelings of guilt and remorse, I took a completely different approach.  Don't make food the enemy or treat my WLS as a "curse".  I took a tablespoon or two of certain dishes, leaving the bread alone. Oh I loved the sweet potato pudding, cabbage, and shrimp and macroni salad (which is to die for...). I didn't need or want the turkey. Because everyones' plate was full to the brim, I could take my time to chew, chew, chew.  Everything stayed down, no nausea, and no dumping.  I was satisfied, felt no guilt. Later, while everyone was having carmel and nut covered apple pie and ice cream, I flirted with "sad".  People kept apologizing to me when they made their plate.  Finally, I  took a fork and cut off an edge and enjoyed that blasterd pie.  

Without trying to sound holier than thou, I was truly able to see how I became overweight by watching the eating habits of my family.   But, I also learned that with my weight loss, small portions, and chew, chew, chewing... I could see in their eyes - unspoken feelings - so I grew increasingly silent and less conspicous about my weight loss and my approach to eating. 

They are my family and less than four months ago, I was equal in my size and eating habits.  Who the heck did I think I was that by my mere presence,  making them feel guilt and remorseful for enjoying food and a Christmas meal where it has always been legal to cheat.  Notice in the word cheat is "eat"?   Folk wanted to talk about something besides me and my new "culture".   You know, we sort of develop a new attitude about ourselves.  We must take care that it is not a "holier than thou" attitude. 

I went to my weight loss group's Holiday party.  The group host mainly those who have had the Band or RNY.  We are at different stages - months vs years.  Confession: My mouth was hanging open when I saw the portions some folk were fixing.  I made myself eat only familiar items and portions.  Confession:  I have lost more in a few months than some who have had the band for more than a year.  I am not sure how I feel about this. Guilty? Judgmental? Confession:  I was anxious to get back to my computer and OH.  I get so much info and support, here. While we can share our day to day trial and tribulations, it is after all, truly an individual journey.   Confession:  It was OH that got me through those first weeks following my surgery.  

The New Year approaches.  I wish all on OH a Merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year.  Name and claim good health and healing, prosperity, a new attitude, a surgery date - where appropriate, a calmer and a more cooperative tummy.  I am thankful for my many blessings.   Here's to our individual journey where we are not "alone".  Cakes