JustJoie
An Introduction
Feb 27, 2009
Hello! I've been lurking here at OH for a few months now. I finally registered and am in the process of making the most of this site.I want to share my story of how I got here. This is a loooong post, so grab whatever it is your drinking and settle in.
I am 35 years old. I weigh 257 pounds. My BMI is 43 and is considered “extremely obese”. A healthy BMI for someone my height is under 25. To reach a healthy BMI I will need to lose 107 pounds. I am scheduled for RNY on 4/7/09. I have been fat for a long time now. I was a fairly normal size child and very active. Between the ages of 11 & 13 I gained a considerable amount of weight. I was wearing a size 16 or 18. But I never really thought of myself as fat. I had lots of friends, was popular with boys and was still very active. The summer of ‘86 I turned 13 and somehow lost A LOT of weight. It seemed as if overnight I went from a size 18 to a 10. The only explanation I have for the weight loss was that I WALKED EVERYWHERE and was out and about ALL OF THE TIME. The timing was excellent since that fall we moved to a new town and I started in a new high school with a thin, new me. My Jr. High & High School years were incredibly turbulent. My parents separated, got divorced and my mother moved in and eventually married my current step-father. At the time I was devastated, angry, hurt and scared. During this time my mom and step dad engaged in a very emotional, physical and psychologically abusive relationship. I managed to get through these years by drinking, doing drugs, screwing and running away from home whenever possible. I stayed skinny through most of this time. With all the running around and partying who had time for food? It wasn’t until my parents forced me to go into a rehab program that I started to gain weight. 3 square meals a day and not much else to do can do that to a girl. Rehab was a turning point for me. Not because I had a problem with drugs and alcohol but because I figured out that in the long run the only person I was hurting was myself. Those 45 days away from the chaos and drama of my family life was awesome. I knew then that the only way I was ever going to survive the hell that was my home was to just get out as soon as possible. Much to my mother’s dismay rehab did not cure me of my partying ways. It only made me much sneakier and even more skeptical of 12 step anything. I left home in 1991 when I was 17. What happens after that to now is a very long, interesting and almost unbelievable tale. One day I will write a book, but for now you get the idea that somewhere in all of that I turned to food for comfort and joy.
As the years passed I steadily gained weight. By the time I moved to CT in 2000 I weighed over 200 pounds. Even then, I didn’t feel like a fat person. I was very active, strong, healthy and had no physical limitations. The only health issue I had at that time and really have had since puberty was either non-existent or horribly debilitating and frequent periods. A manageable issue and one that I knew was related to the fact that I had never gotten pregnant even though I never took birth control and had had unprotected sex with my long (and some not so long) term partners over the years. It was probably my saving grace because otherwise I definitely would have been a very unprepared teen mother.
I moved to CT to be with my now husband. Our relationship, though started in the most untraditional of ways, was and continues to be the most mature, healthy, satisfying relationship I have ever had. I am a lucky woman and I don’t ever forget it. My husband loves me exactly as I am and if it were not for the health issues I know he would completely be against this surgery. He’s being supportive because he loves me, wants what’s best for me and more than anything wants me to feel good again. Hubby is also a big guy. It’s definitely a hereditary trait. Most of the men on his father’s side of the family are very overweight, if not obese. Add to that a very sedentary lifestyle of working at a desk all day and well, you really have to make a major effort to be “healthy” under those circumstances. Unfortunately we’ve been far too lazy and easily enticed with quick, yummy and easy vs. good for you. 2002 was a very big year. We got married, Hubby was laid off and the sole provider for our little family, and we moved to the town we currently live in. Hubby got a job as a contractor and worked his way into the company and then up the corporate ladder. His getting laid off was probably the best thing that has ever happened to us and we don’t ever forget how sometimes even the things that seem horrible can turn out to be wonderful.
In early 2003 I was officially diagnosed with PCOS and Type II Diabetes. I was put on birth control for the PCOS which I refused to take. At this point hubby and I had decided that if pregnancy was in the cards for us then so be it, however unlikely we knew that might be given my “girl” problems. I was also put on oral meds for diabetes. I was told to test my blood sugar regularly, eat right, and exercise. Well, let’s just say that I am probably the most non-compliant patient ever. I am horrible about taking meds. One of the reasons I refused to take the pill over the years is because when I did attempt to faithfully take my pills I would ALWAYS forget and would end up with my period every other week. So you can guess how I did with the diabetes meds. The bitch about the diabetes is that for the first several years I felt fine. I lived in a world of denial about my diabetes and continued to live and eat however I wanted to. Even though I’d read that the meds would help me lose weight, which by now was up to the 250-265 I’ve maintained to date, I still could not be consistent enough to get past the side effects. I would go weeks and months without taking meds or doing anything to make the Diabetes better. There were periods where I was compliant and made efforts but they never lasted.
Since 2003 to the present we have had a lot of life altering experiences including infertility treatment, meeting and falling in love with our wife, her husband and their son, buying our first home, coming out to all our friends and family about our “lifestyle”, the separation and eventual divorce of wife and her now ex-husband, my hysterectomy (because we thought I had cancer andluckily I did not) but the recovery was long and drawn out, starting and closing a business and adding another child to our family. It’s been an unpredictable and joyous ride and I wouldn’t change a thing. I don’t offer these things up as excuses or to blame for my weight issues, but rather as examples that there is more to life than diet and exercise and for most of us food is the one source of constant comfort that we can rely on to make us feel better, even if it’s only for the briefest of moments. And then of course, there’s the guilt. The “I shouldn’t eat this” guilt. The “I can’t keep spending money on fast food” guilt. The “just one more and then I’m done forever” guilt. The “I need a cheeseburger to make me feel better cause all this guilt sucks guilt”. Can you relate? I sure hope so. Not that I wish this on anyone else, but more so because I want to feel like I am not alone in all of this.
Oh yeah, there’s also the cigarettes. Yep, smoking has been the only purposeful thing I have done day in and day out since I was 16. In the last few years I’ve made several attempts at quitting. I’ve gone as long as 9 months without smoking. However, I’m still smoking. And tomorrow, I HAVE TO QUIT. I’ve promised that I will do everything in my power to make this surgery a success and to have a complication free recovery. I know that smoking will completely mess all of this up and that quitting is the only option if I’m serious about this. And trust me, I am serious about this. So for the next few weeks in addition to being anxious about and terrified by the reality of having this surgery, I will also be a raving bitch going through nicotine withdrawal. FUN, fun, fun!
Ok, so now you know more about me that most people who actually know me. Kinda weird, huh? But I really need to reach out and find a community. This surgery is going to change my life forever and I can’t expect my family to be my only support. I’m very much a loner. I have a strong personality, am very confident (I’m told that’s how I come across) and a strong sense of personal responsibility. I hate group anything and don’t like large gatherings. I’m horrible with chit chat and like to connect with people on a more substantial level. I have a very hard time making friends. But it doesn’t keep me from trying. I’d rather have a few really good friends than a slew of acquaintances. The truth is I know what the “right” things to do are. I am so well educated and read on the subject of diet, nutrition and RNY that I could probably teach a class on the subject. My problems come with putting all this into action. Breaking it down, one step at a time, and making it work. Not getting overwhelmed. Staying positive in the face of suckiness. Finding others who can relate, commiserate, empathize and encourage is what I know I need. I have the opportunity of a lifetime right now. I can focus on ME and get well. I’ve accomplished everything I’ve set out to do so far and this is the last hurdle to living the life, walking the walk, talking the talk and finally, once and for all, being the me I want to be. Thanks for reading all this and feel free to get in touch J I’m really looking forward to the journey!
