I want to write about it, but I'm hampered by some things. I think it's time for a list of what's on my mind.
- I've been writing about non-surgical weight loss for some time. Do I look like the biggest a-hole in the world to suddenly come out about my surgery? I can't care about that. This is a journey I started over a year ago with a medical team. It's been on my mind for the past 3 years, to be honest. I just couldn't take the plunge and start the process. When I started the process, I couldn't let myself rely on the possibility of surgery.
- It's sad to admit, but I go through life with the idea that things rarely work in my favor. That way when they do, I appreciate it even more. I figured I wouldn't get approved for surgery, but I should try anyway. Who knows? After 6 months of constant consultation with a nutritionist, a psych, and my doctor, I was rejected for surgery in November 08. We did a little more work getting my weight history and reapplied. I didn't hold out any hopes. I was approved in May, and things progressed quickly from there.
- I was still on the fence about surgery. I'd lost weight through diet and exercise before; I should be able to do it again, right? Would having surgery be an admission of some kind of defeat? Some kind of weakness? I figured I would make the decision when I had the option. When I got approved, it was pretty easy to make the choice.
I am defeated. I do have a weakness. I have been obese all my life, and if that's not a sign of failure then I don't know what is.
It's sad that my identity has always been tied to my weight, even since I was a kid. How do you turn around 20 years of beliefs, especially when they've been with you since your formative years?
Short answer: You can't. I can't.
I've accepted long ago that I will never have a normal life when it comes to food or my weight. Since that's the case, why put off surgery? Sure I may lose weight through dubdub over the next few years, but I can't say that it will stay off. Well, I can say that, but who the eff knows, right? I thought I'd keep my weight off last time, but that was a bust. Time gives you all kinds of drama to deal with: love, death, wealth, poverty, babies. Any of that can drag me out of control.
I want control. Everybody with an eating disorder wants control: fat people want it over food and choices about their lifestyle, anorexics and bulimics want it over food and choices about their lifestyle. Our bodies are ours alone, and we want to control it any way we can.
I don't like being told what to do. That started long ago with food, with being told I can't have this or that, sugar cereals or cakes. That I can't have clothes or toys until I lost weight. When I became a big girl who could make her own choices, guess what I did? I bought a box of Cookie Crisp and had dessert with every meal. I got fat, I got thinner, I got fat again when I couldn't control my emotional situation. I know my history. I don't want to keep repeating it.
I have this chance to have a new tool - one that restricts the amount and types of food I can eat. It's not going to tell me what to do, but it's going to pre-empt any of that crazy behavior. I will have to deal with my food issues head on, instead of bingeing and hating myself later.
And really? I'm done with food. In revisiting favorite foods last week, I realized that food's not as good as it's cracked up to be. Last week was a chore, and each meal was lackluster, to be honest. I got fish and chips Thursday night, and it was bland and soggy. I didn't even finish it. I'm over this slavery to food.
I work well within boundaries. I'll find ways to make any restriction flavorful and enjoyable.
This post seems full of contradictions: I don't like being told what to do, but I work well within boundaries. It's true, and I stand by it all.
The only difference is, this surgery is MY choice. This is not my mom lecturing me on my food choices; this is me going into a situation as a fully-informed adult. This is my decision and I am proud of it.
I'm tired of defending it. I will gladly talk about health, diet, fitness, but from here on out I will only talk about my body on my terms. I'm not anyone's property. Everybody has an opinion about what I'm going to do, but the only one that matters is mine. My body is not up for debate anymore. I am not my disease.
This is my new mantra. Now is the time when I have to stop looking at myself as a body and start seeing myself as a person. I need to cultivate my interests because I've thrown so many to the wayside over the past 3 years. I don't want to lose my personality, because I do have one, and I know it's more than being a bitter fat girl.
Which brings me to another pondering - when I lose weight, will I stop bitching? I hope so. I mean, from this day forth I will not be hard on my body. But I will bitch about people who drive me crazy.
Back to the surgery: I hopped on this opportunity because I don't want to be 45 and obese, pissed at myself for not taking this chance. I want to start living my life. Like I said, I've pissed away my twenties, I wasn't a normal teenager; I live like a divorcee, for Christ's sake. Done! I'm done with it!
I shouldn't care about this, but the friends I've told about this surgery have not been so excited about it. It's scary, I know, but for me the benefits outweigh the risks. I hope they can accept my decision and my new lifestyle. I don't think they can really see or understand how I feel at this point in my life right now. I've been asked why I care so much about what other people think. The misconception is that I'm doing this for other people. No...I'm doing it for me. What I'm doing is not living. I need to build up myself before I can be any good to others.
And yeah, other people do come into play. I'd be lying if I said they didn't. Truth is, I don't care what people think so much as I don't want to be invisible anymore. To both men and women. People don't treat me seriously at the gym, at a sports store, at any stores that aren't Lane Bryant. I've been out to bars with married women who - acting as my wingmen - get hit on by the guys they're trying to introduce me to. I can be as tricked-out and present and engaging as a muhfucker, but guys go after the hot women. It's a fact. And while I don't want to go out with the kind of guy that hits on married women, I would so love the opportunity to break their hearts and blue their balls.
Surgery isn't magic, it isn't going to cure me over night, and it's going to really suck for a while, but goddamn it, I'm ready.
And it's not up for debate.
So there's that,