emily_1979
The Shortage of Shrink 2/25/10
Mar 28, 2010
I am fat. Once I wasn’t. I am crazy. Maybe I always was.
Here begins the story, of my shrink. My shrink in size. Throughout this story I will surely convey the shortage of shrink in my life as well. Shrink this time referring to Mental and Emotional health professionals.
I don’t consider myself a great writer, I don’t think I am witty or funny, my grammar and punctuation will surely suck, and this might just be a location for me to whine, but I have committed myself to doing it. No matter how my thoughts read on paper and no matter the judgement that may come along.
When you are fat like me, everyone likes to passive aggressively give you tips on how to lose weight or they just want to “help” you recognize why you are fat. And when I say everyone I really mean everyone. Friends, family, enemies and strangers all have an opinion. Emily, push away from the table. Emily, exercise more. Emily, what works for me is….. Shut up already! Especially if you have never been more than 15 pounds overweight before. And no, pregnancy doesn’t count. I actually was best in the weight control area during my pregnancies. And the worst compliment a fat person can get is “You have such a pretty face.” There is always a but trailing behind there somewhere. And no shit my face looks decent. Its all I have to work with besides my hair. I have long felt the need to have beautiful makeup and eyelashes, shiny beautiful hair, and clear skin. To make up for the fact that the rest of me is just plain ugly. I started to really recognize that I have to fix my body when I got to the point that I didn’t care what my face or my hair looked like. My uniform became black basketball shorts for their elastic waistband and length and grey t-shirts because white isn’t flattering to the figure and black is too hot for a fat sweaty chick.
With weight came insecurity and a loss of confidence. And with age came Bipolar disorder. (My doc says anyway.) Maybe I am really normal. And all of the insane mental BS that I think and feel is what everyone else feels too. More than anything I feel sadness. And the sadness is for the lack of joy I feel. Not for anything bad. But bad shit happens too. I have had my fair share and then some. But I always say “Bad shit happens and you get over it or let it ruin you. Bad experiences are not excuses for bad behavior.” So I have no excuse. And I do have bad behavior. I also feel anger. Sometimes the rage inside of me is like putting a Mento in a coke. I can’t contain it. It erupts out of me. I want to be happy. To just enjoy life. This is the only one I’ll get. So between the head issues and the fat issues, I feel pretty jacked.
And the fixes are temporary. Food. Shopping. Sex. Sleep. In no particular order. I have lived without them all and I have also enjoyed them all to the point of excess. I am getting to the point where I recognize each fix when I want it. And I also know what I want will not fix me. Maybe nothing will.
For now, weight loss will be the start. And maybe blogging my thoughts will do me some good. I am four months in to preparing for gastric bypass surgery. My weight management and nutrition appointments have been met. I didn’t really learn anything new. Knowing what you can do to lose weight and doing it are totally different things. Then throw into the mix real, physical, medical problems that make it so hard. If swimming 3 miles a day while only consuming 1200 calories isn’t going to make me lose more than 4 pounds in 2 months, then this risky, expensive surgery better do the trick. I also had my psych evaluation. I guess I am crazy enough. But not too crazy for the surgery. They took a 3 year weight history from another one of my docs and I am on the second day of my protein diet.
The diet consists of drinking 4-5 protein shakes a day. Low carb. I am drinking the EAS AdvantEDGE Carb Control shakes. They aren’t so bad. Way better than Slim Fast. Not too chalky. They taste like watered down diet hot cocoa that is cold. I can also have water. They want you to have around 64 oz a day which is near 2 liters if I am not mistaken. And that’s pretty much it. I really miss food already. They warn you not to have the last supper syndrome. I totally did. Every time I ate the thought crossed my mind, “Am I ever going to taste this again?” Talk about obsessed. My last meal, I was so lucky to have my sweet sisters bring me my favorite dinner and cake. Asian City Hibachi steak with fried rice and a salad with ginger dressing. The cake called “Dynasty” from a fabulous little bakery called Elite Treats. The cake is so to die for that I have purchased it for every special occasion for the last few years. Ever since I discovered the thing.
Two days later. After my feast. I am starving. Not really. I could survive forever on my stored fat. But I am really hungry. I just want to eat. I want to swallow something solid. I want to taste something other than chocolate. But I feel committed. And I want to feel like I am good at something. Anything. This is just another thing to try and build a little sense of confidence and accomplishment. I have a headache. And I can’t stop seeing, thinking about, or smelling food.
