JazzyOne9254
End of Story
Oct 23, 2014
At the beginning of this blog, I was hopeful, optimistic, had my sights set on fulfilling my dreams, with my biggest obstacle, 257 pounds of excess weight gone. Unfortunately, the majority of comments throughout my life "...if only you'd lose weight...", in my case, have not rung true.
I've slugged it out, my psyche battered and bloodied beyond recognition, trying to make reality of the dreams I had of helping those who have struggled and been traumatized by obesity as I have in my own lifetime.
Today, Thursday, October 23rd, 2014, I'm calling the bout. No more swimming against the current. No more attempts to punch, claw or kick my way through insurmountable obstacles. I'm done with that.
A complicated, drawn out process to complete the medical issues I needed to tend to before resuming Voc-Rehab have been accomplished. I would have been finished with my program and on my way to internship had I not gone ahead on the recommendation of my advisor to complete my surgeries before resuming my studies.
That's a big part of my problem. I am too trusting of others, believing that they have my best interests at heart. I should have known it was not his job to help me find a way to finish. It's his job to discourage and keep as many off of Voc-Rehab as possible or find the least expensive route possible, to save state funding, especially when it comes to African-Americans who want to take the educational route and resume or start professional occupations. Service occupations only, no matter the prior education level. Had I been among the thousands of unskilled and or uneducated who are placed at second-hand charities processing filthy items from the donation boxes, everything would have been fine. Even one of the program coordinators who works at the largest such organization, a partially deaf woman, was not willing to help or answer questions. I was simply not worth the financial output to them. They knew that my immune system (autoimmune disorder) could not handle exposure to such filth as can be found on those donations, but wanted to put me there anyway. In laundry (they call it Processing). It was that, or nothing. Unfortunately, I still have to patronize their stores, as it is the only place I can afford to buy clothes and other items when I need them, as well as StVdP (St. Vincent de Paul). Salvation Army goods in my town are way too filthy. I'd be too afraid to catch something from even being in the store looking, and the largest organization always has better items than the others.
Quitting has never been any part of what I'm made of, until now. I have in the past always been a fight the powers-that-be type, but there comes a point where you have to look at a situation and determine whether there is anything further to be gained from continuing to challenge the obstacles that are blocking achievement of that goal.
To borrow lyrics from the song "The Gambler" - "You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em."
After talking to a few relatives, sleeping on it, and trying to come up with other options, it has become clear that it's time to cease and desist pursuit of this effort.
I thank those of you, my Obesity Help family, who made the extra effort to contact me on the boards, by PM and some of you, even by phone.
I listened, took notes, and internalized those positive interactions, and factored in all of them during my decision-making process.
I'm in the process of cleaning out my own apartment, getting rid of stuff I no longer need, doesn't work, and clothing that is too large, and has been stored forever. I only signed a six month lease, in view of moving, so I'll have to find somewhere to live quickly, even if it's the homeless shelter.
Things like this are only supposed to happen to people who don't try, who sit around doing nothing to improve their situation. I was not one of them, but yet nothing worked.
As I have said before, I think if I were younger, this story may have had a different ending. No one is interested in helping a 56 year old African-American woman change her life and help the lives of others. And no race card to be found here, for those who would accuse me of "playing" said card.
This was my last, best hope at getting back to a normal life.
It seems most of my life, especially the past 15 years, the bright spots have been short and fleeting, with the dark times ever-present and lingering. I've had more cloudy and stormy days than sunshine in my life. Perhaps I'm one of those people who was born to receive all the worst life has to offer.
I cannot take much more of this kind of life. I knew that this weight loss journey would not magically change things for me. That's not what I was looking for. The fact that I did put forth the effort, to no avail, is the most painful, gut-wrenching part of this entire situation. All I wanted was just a little bit of the wonderful I read about in the entries of others who are regulars on OH.
Someone I spoke with on the phone yesterday suggested ministry as an option. I've been there, too. In fact, one of the ideas I had was to try to partner with my church in providing bariatric supplies (protein powder and vitamins) at the local food pantries, and at the several that they manage at their outreach centers, for bariatric patients like myself, or even just folks who needed them, due to malnutrition. No takers, or at least, not from me. And my presentation was flawless. Groomed, business-like, armed with facts. enthusiastic. All fell on deaf ears. I don't even feel welcome at services anymore, and I haven't been there in person for at least two years. I developed the online attendance habit when my Dear Mother was making her transition two years ago.
I have often told my sister that I will probably be one of those people we have often read about or heard of in the news. Someone who will just pass away, unnoticed, to be discovered weeks or months later. There have been several in my hometown, a couple of them were high school classmates, very intelligent AP students, in student government leadership. We served in Cabinet positions together. I recently read another news story about a woman who went that way for three years before anyone noticed she was gone.
I know for a fact that this has absolutely nothing to do with holiday blues. I've made a conscious effort to ignore holidays for several years now. I cross them off the calendar just like every other day of the year.
Again, thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read my blog. The information about the procedure is real, my enthusiasm about the DS is real. It works. You'll lose weight, but life won't be wonderful. In fact, it may very well be worse.
Had I known life would turn out this way for me, I would have never had the surgery.
For those yet to have the DS, keep going for it. It may make life wonderful for you, or not. You'll have to be the judge of that.
