The month of August is filled with many sad anniversaries in my life. I am happy to have a positive one to share. Today, August 9th, is my one year surgiversary. One year ago I had gastric bypass surgery done. 148 pounds gone. 287 starting weight. 139 ending weight.
It has been a very hard journey; not only physically but emotionally.
Physically - your body has to relearn how to reprocess foods. You don’t often get the nutrition you need from your foods (malabsorption) so you have to take vitamins and pills for the rest of your life. As you lose the weight, you have to relearn how your body moves and what you are capable of. Plus you begin to think you are smaller than you are and run into doors.
I bruise like a peach. I am cold ALL the time. 110 outside feels amazing. I’m like a lizard with a heat lamp. I have no sex drive. Hormones are rearranging themselves. I’m not interested in being touched, AT ALL. No hugs, kisses, pat on the back.. Don’t want it. Don’t touch me. Let me tell you how wonderful THAT is for a marriage.
But what I can do?!?!?! I ran a 5k Mud run bitches! And I finished in the middle of my pack. I run! For FUN! I go out in public in a swimsuit! I have extra skin, and what?! I am more outgoing. I don’t live in fear of being made fun of when I dance. I was stinkin gorgeous before but I’m HOT now. I have jacked up teeth but I have confidence galore! I’m not perfect but I see past the imperfections that clouded all my vision before. I am WORTH being loved.
Mentally – I get uncomfortable when people call me skinny. I want to eat. Skinny has always been a bad word (a jealous word) usually followed by bitch. I forget that I cannot eat like I used to so I put too much food on my plate. Since I grew up with the must eat ALL.THE.FOODS. you put on your plate I try to eat them. Then I get sick. So I can’t wrap my head around the fact that my stomach is smaller. For a while there, I just believed it was a joke and that the surgery didn’t actually happen. Until the first overeat vom fest. I still try to shop in Lane Bryant (I haven’t fit into their clothes in 6 months). I still try to buy plus size things at the thrift store. I see the jeans I wear and swear they are too small when they are actually almost falling off of me.
Emotionally – It takes a toll on those around you. Lord FORBID they want Whataburger. MONTHS After surgery I would wake up to that smell in my apt and would puke. And I’ll be damned if a fry didn’t fall out of the bag sometime on the ride home. I’d find it two days later; stale and smelling like the car. I’d eat it. Don’t judge me! You have all done it. Then my body would reject it. Carbs are truly evil. They are addictive. (Once you pop you can’t stop… is proven). I want cupcakes and sugar and pizza still. I have had pizza since the surgery but I don’t eat the whole large by myself with some breadsticks. I’ll have a slice and be done. I had a cupcake.. and then went to sleep (too much sugar). But I’m not eating ALL the cupcakes, drinking all the milk, and eating all the time.
Everything is a struggle. Especially now that the honeymoon is over with the surgery. Now I have to do it on my own. Maintaining will be hard but I have a strong support of ACTUAL friends here to help guide me and to remind me why I can’t eat cookies. (Obese or healthy? Coma or be awake for life? Is this really the choice you want to make). But I’m not saying I’ll never eat another cookie again. And I’m certainly no poster child for healthy. I struggle with every damn decision I make. I still don’t drink enough water. I push myself too hard when I work out. Sometimes I don’t push at all.
It’s about choices. I made mine to have the surgery and I don’t judge people who haven’t. I hope people don’t judge me for making this choice.
I feel all preachy but what I am trying to say is.. Thanks for being there in my journey.