Meg1962
I haven't always been a Fat Chick. As a child, teenager and young woman, I was "average" for my height. In my early 20s I weighed about 140 lbs - just right for me. I now weigh in at about 326lbs. My weight started creeping after I had kids. I'd like to blame my currently rotund appearance entirely on the pregnancies, but I know it was mostly negligence on my part. I just didn't pay attention to what I was eating. I decided to try Weight Watchers. Lost about 5kg, then promptly gained it back, plus 30 lbs. Then I tried NutriSystem. The food was awful, hideously expensive, but I lost some weight...only (predictably) to gain it back within a year.
After a serious back injury, I decided to get tough about my weight, and started calorie counting. I even took up running (people look really skeptical when I tell them this, but it's true!). I lost about 28kg (60lbs), and really enjoyed the running. Probably got hooked on the endorphins. I started at 5 minutes a day, and worked my way up to 3 hours a week (about 15km). Then my knees started to give me problems and I stopped running. I also stopped paying attention to what I ate. At this point, I was in my late 30s, and recognized that I could no longer eat like a 20 year old, but I got pregnant and was sidetracked. Gained a whole pile of weight while pregnant, and when my youngest was born in 2001 I weighed about 110kg (240lbs). Not so healthy, but really happy.
In 2003 I accepted a job in London, Ontario and moved the family there. It was a stressful move, but I liked the new job and the new home town. Those warm fuzzy good feelings didn't last very long. In June of that year my brother, who had a long history of depression and anxiety, committed suicide. A few months later my mother ended her life.
I used up most of my coping skills holding everyone together after my brother died, so I wasn't feeling all that resiliant when my mother died. I started losing weight, but not in a healthy way. I became extremely depressed, lost any desire to eat (or do anything really). Finally, I told my GP what was going on, and she prescribed antidepressants, those colourful little pills that work wonders when you're walking life's highways with your smile on upsidedown.
The treatment worked, and my delusions of happiness were restored. But there was a downside to all that contentment (isn't there always?) While I was hauling my sorry ass out of the pit of despair I found myself in, I gained about 41kg (90lbs). That's where I'm at now.
A few months ago I decided that, having my mood disorder well under control, it was time to deal with the weight. I asked my GP about weight loss options (she didn't mention surgery), and while I was doing some research on prescription weight loss drugs (gross!), I came across info on WLS. So I read, and I read, and I read. And then ... I read some more.
When I approached my GP about WLS, she was really supportive. She's an awesome doctor. So I did my research, found a surgery and a surgeon that I liked, and now I'm waiting on a date.
