Freedom~5 months post op

Apr 18, 2010

Its been 5 months since my DS with Dr Stewart.  I weighed in this morning at 175, that's 78 pounds lost.  I haven't been exercising regularly.  In fact, my only exercise has been increased daily activities.  Which, for now, is reasonable.  I walk more.  I go up and down the stairs more.  I park farther away from the store.  I've been dealing with some hemorrhoid issues for a while.  I'm ready to give in and go to a doc.  Its affecting my activity, and my vitamins, and my overall level of happiness!  Calcium and iron constipate me something fierce.  I can't afford that.  I take stool softeners, they make my belly cramp up.  I have to find a happy medium.

The last time I was at this weight it was so hard.  There was so much obsessing.  So much unhappiness.  Everything was a struggle.  Afraid of food, afraid of not working out, afraid of being in a social situation that included food.  There was so much hunger, and mental punishment.  I would recall all particularly painful memories about being overweight.  The teasing at school, the embarrassment, the taunting, the tears that started when I started to realize that being overweight DID matter to people I interacted with.  I would purposely cause myself mental anguish to stay on track.  And that made me generally depressed.  

And laxatives.  There's something I never thought I'd admit to.  I couldn't stand the thought of not being empty, so the laxatives were the answer.  A grown woman, working as a nurse, for goodness sake, and I was abusing laxatives!  Of course, the need to be near a bathroom cut my social activities even more.  But I was getting smaller, so nothing else mattered.  Nothing.  I had the timing down so I could binge and be assured the laxatives were taking effect, and increasing peristaltic movement and thus, the binge would come right out.  I discovered this the first Thanksgiving.  And it was wonderful.  I could plan a day when I would be home, and have anything and everything I had deprived myself.  But needless to say, it left me weak, and I would be dehydrated, and sleepy.  What a weekend!

I would journal my feelings, but it was really more a matter of getting my ugly thoughts on paper so they would be reinforcing.  

And the exercising.  Two hours of cardio.  I still remember the pattern.  12 minutes on the bike, 18 minutes on the stepper, 30 minutes on the elliptical, 30 minutes on the treadmill, 18 more minutes on the stepper, and finally, 12 more minutes on the bike.  Every. Single. Day.  On a diet of 1/2 a bagel and chewing gum.  The gum because if I didn't, my blood sugar would dip during my workout and I would feel like passing out. Then I would hit the weights.  A woman possessed.  It occupied the time I had to think about food.  It burned the calories I so desperately didn't want to eat.  I was 31 or 32 at the time.  With two kids.  A full time job, and this obsession that took SO much time. Oh, and part of the compulsion was that everything had to be divisible by three.  Why?  Who the hell knows.  It was hell.  That thought was simple and CONSUMED me. Everything was counted, divided by three.  If it divided evenly, I was ok.  If not, something felt off.  Even the number of laxatives (usually 6 at a time) had to be divisible.  The ounces of water.  The steps I took. The specific chunks of my workout times. Thank goodness there's 12 stairs in my  The miles.  The number of letters in people's names.  Gah!  That was so awful.  I think it was a habit to take my mind off other things.  Fill your mind with clutter, there's no room for real problems.

Its so easy now.  I don't have those thoughts.  I thought I might slip back into the compulsion/obsession, but I haven't, yet.  This feels so different than back then.  Even though I'm the same weight.  This is the freedom my DS has given me!


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May 12, 2009
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