There's an old saying that reads "hurt people hurt people" - and sometimes the person that gets most hurt is yourself. Today was a complete and total rollercoaster of a day with the full gammet of emotions. I didn't go to church and perhaps that was my first mistake....the first sign of me isolating myself because of the stress and anxiety I have going on right now.
I got up and frantically got started on cleaning out my garage - it took a few hours to do, and at the end of it I had my art studio back, I found somewhere neat to put the BBQ, and I had a car FULL of rubbish to take to the tip. It felt amazing going to the dump and throwing out all that stuff - I get such a high from purging stuff much like a drug addict gets high on their drug of choice. But by the time I got home and jumped on my computer that all changed.
I went on the forums where I had been doing a lot of research on my surgery, and I got upset over a post. So silly really considering I only have met one person from that forum in real life, so who cares really right? But here I was getting very upset and what I SHOULD have done is take a break, go do something silly, play a game or read or relax somehow.
Instead, my tied up, anxious, panicked fearful self decided I wanted to sew something....and somewhere between having a full blown panic attack and then screaming like a God-awful banshee at my sewing machine I realised I had made a mistake.
Ok, so perhaps I'm a little more messed up than I initially thought.
I have learned one thing however that I thought was interesting. Brad at one point while trying to calm me down pointed out that the key to my problem was that I needed to take all that fear, all that anxiety and channel it instead into determination that no matter what happens, no matter how things go over the next few months, I would follow every single instruction and I would make this work - that's all I have to do. Thinking like that does making me feel a little better because it simplifies things for me. It's like the Nike ad - JUST DO IT.
It's really the head "stuff" that scares me. I fear my own emotions. I am afraid of my own mental processes - I guess most of all I fear the abyss because I've been there before. The only thing I am hanging on to at this stage is that losing weight CAN improve depression and anxiety, especially since I will be exercising every day and getting all those endorphins flowing. I know what I have to do, and I know where to turn for help. Food cannot be my "be all and end all" anymore - I have to relearn how to live my life, and I wont really KNOW what that's going to look like until I actually do it. And that's perhaps the hardest thing to try and cope with right now.
The Journey....
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Prayer of a Future Sleever..........
When I was born, you knew exactly what I would look like. You knew every hair on my head. You had a purpose for me, and you loved me before I was even conceived. You chose the exact day, date, time and place of my birth. You chose my parents, my family, my siblings. You knew who I would be. I have value not because of what I am, but because you are my creator.
But something went wrong.....
Somewhere a long the line, I became broken. I was eaten away by the acid of a broken, evil world. It started with a father who feared having a fat child and created exactly what he feared. My grandmother who over compensated for my abuse by giving me food. The kids at school who bullied the fat kid instead of befriending her and giving her a place to be herself. The stepmother who watched a teenager be ridiculed, abused, hit, pushed, shoved, threatened, belittled and verbally assaulted and did nothing. The brother who was taught to join in the abuse and who didn't know any better. The school friends who knew something was wrong but didn't know what to do about it. The teachers who suspected but never reported. The string of flings who told me what I wanted to hear even just for a short time.
And finally, it starts and ends with me. At the end of my days when I stand before your throne, none of the rest will matter. The only thing that will matter is what I did with the time you gave me. And the truth is, til now, I've wasted that time on things that will fade. I've stuffed my face with bad food because it makes me feel good in the moment. It numbs the pain. It shuts off the voices in my head that tell me how ugly, useless and awful I am. It makes me happy and stops me from feeling anger and hurt. I haven't been living my best life, I know that. You didn't create me to be this way, and I know that the tears I am crying now you cry with me.
So, I'm heeding the words that may have in the flesh come from my surgeon but really have come from you. I got it. I get that if something doesn't change, my life will be over all too soon. I won't have children to love and to raise as you would have me do. I won't be able to share my voice with larger audiences and revel in the gift you gave me. I won't see the wonder and magic of nature that you created for me because I won't be physically able to walk there. I won't travel, serve, and give the way you want me to because of the limitations my obesity places upon me. I get it. Really I do.
But God, I'm really really scared. My whole life losing weight has been a mountain too hard to climb and now I face an even bigger mountain with this surgery. And it's not even the surgery that scares me, not really - it's what comes afterwards. I know there's a very real possibility of me relapsing and I just cannot afford to do that. This must work. No ifs buts or maybes. But I cannot do it alone. I know that without your strength and your love, I will fail. I've been here time and time again, but this time has to be different. This time it really is life or death. Lord, help me choose life. Walk with me as I take this step towards health and well being. Guide the surgeons and the nurses as they perform this operation. Knit my wounds back together precisely the way they should without any complications. But perhaps even more importantly, Lord please help me change my mindset. Help me accept my new life with grace and strength. Help me to be a witness to my friends and family who struggle with their weight, that there is hope and it can be done. Help me to bear this cross because in comparison to yours, it is so light.
And Lord, let there be life after this. A long, long life.
Amen.
And Lord, let there be life after this. A long, long life.
Amen.
Friday, July 18, 2014
Not Just a River in Egypt....
According to the Kubler Ross model, there are five stages of grief after a significant loss. Those stages are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. It's not a linear progression though, a person can skip from one stage to another and go back and forth before finally reaching acceptance at the other end.
Well this morning something really strange happened. It was like the moment I opened my eyes I shifted gear from denial straight into anger.
........no........
rage........
pure, untainted, rage.
Tge worst part about anger is there's no one to be angry at - except yourself. In one day I went from trying to be positive and upbeat to LOATHING everything about myself and everything and everyone. I raged at my husband. I raged at my work. I raged at the friends who seem to have ditched me lately for no reason. I raged at my life. I raged at my weight. I raged at food, I raged at my weaknesses. I raged at my father for his obsession with not having a fat kid and in turn creating what he feared. I raged at the years of stealing food, obsessing over food, comforting with food, sneaking food, dreaming about food, socializing with food, buying food, swapping food, promising I wont eat food and all the failed attempts at losing weight and all the money lost.
At the end of my rage there was nothing. Just, nothing. Nothing except a profound sadness that it has all come to this. Why me? Why this? Why is it that I have to jump through all these hoops just to live and have children when I deal with client after client every single day who gets to do that and they completely abuse their bodies and their children and take their circumstances for granted....it just doesn't seem fair.
II know, I have ventured far into 'pity party' territory - as Brad said, I'm wallowing and I know that's true. I knew this journey would be hard, but I had no idea that this would hit me today - and I haven't even had to start dealing with the restriction in food yet!! It was an emotional reaction I didn't expect. I know I'll wake up tomorrow and be totally fine - it's just after so long of living in de-nile I've finally left Egypt, and it's going to take me a little while to adjust.....
*sigh*
Well this morning something really strange happened. It was like the moment I opened my eyes I shifted gear from denial straight into anger.
........no........
rage........
pure, untainted, rage.
Tge worst part about anger is there's no one to be angry at - except yourself. In one day I went from trying to be positive and upbeat to LOATHING everything about myself and everything and everyone. I raged at my husband. I raged at my work. I raged at the friends who seem to have ditched me lately for no reason. I raged at my life. I raged at my weight. I raged at food, I raged at my weaknesses. I raged at my father for his obsession with not having a fat kid and in turn creating what he feared. I raged at the years of stealing food, obsessing over food, comforting with food, sneaking food, dreaming about food, socializing with food, buying food, swapping food, promising I wont eat food and all the failed attempts at losing weight and all the money lost.
At the end of my rage there was nothing. Just, nothing. Nothing except a profound sadness that it has all come to this. Why me? Why this? Why is it that I have to jump through all these hoops just to live and have children when I deal with client after client every single day who gets to do that and they completely abuse their bodies and their children and take their circumstances for granted....it just doesn't seem fair.
II know, I have ventured far into 'pity party' territory - as Brad said, I'm wallowing and I know that's true. I knew this journey would be hard, but I had no idea that this would hit me today - and I haven't even had to start dealing with the restriction in food yet!! It was an emotional reaction I didn't expect. I know I'll wake up tomorrow and be totally fine - it's just after so long of living in de-nile I've finally left Egypt, and it's going to take me a little while to adjust.....
*sigh*
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Reality check....
Imagine you are sitting in a doctor's office. The doctor tells you that you have cancer. But not just any kind of cancer. Imagine you have a type of cancer that could activate any time between this day and your 50th birthday, but that's GUARANTEED to go off sometime between now and then.
But there's one thing you can do. You can have a surgery, amputate an arm, and cut out the cancer cells and stop the cancer from activating. You can essentially save your life. As with any surgery there's risks of things going wrong. You'll miss the arm, you'll mourn life as you know it - but you'll be alive. You'll grow old. You'll have kids, and grandkids. You won't be dead.
Would you think twice? It's a no brainer right? You'd gladly give up the arm for life. Like Angelina Jolie you'd give up a breast or two to live longer wouldn't you. You'd risk the possible complications and go for it because let's face it, we all want to live and be healthy.
Well, today was a watershed moment, and I've had that exact scenario posed to me. Today I had a bariatric surgeon tell me that at my current weight I will not live to 50. I've told myself such things for years, but the effect of having a health professional say it so bluntly is profound. I fell apart. All of a sudden I realised that this journey is SOOOOOOOO much bigger than wearing cute clothes, or walking up stairs without puffing, or vanity, or even having children - this really is life and death for me.
The surgeon also gave me the hard line on my commitments - a change in psychology, a change in eating patterns, a change in lifestyle and later, a change in exercise routine. Minimum 5 hours a week, low carb, high protein portion control diet, complete compliance with all required medications/vitamins/etc and most importantly no cheating. It was a hard conversation - but amid the shock and being a little blindsided by the whole "dead before 50" line, I was actually ready to hear it. And upon further reflection it's driven home for me how incredibly serious this is. I don't want to forget that going forward because really, juxtaposed against the alternative, it's a no brainer.
This has to happen. And it has to work.
But there's one thing you can do. You can have a surgery, amputate an arm, and cut out the cancer cells and stop the cancer from activating. You can essentially save your life. As with any surgery there's risks of things going wrong. You'll miss the arm, you'll mourn life as you know it - but you'll be alive. You'll grow old. You'll have kids, and grandkids. You won't be dead.
Would you think twice? It's a no brainer right? You'd gladly give up the arm for life. Like Angelina Jolie you'd give up a breast or two to live longer wouldn't you. You'd risk the possible complications and go for it because let's face it, we all want to live and be healthy.
Well, today was a watershed moment, and I've had that exact scenario posed to me. Today I had a bariatric surgeon tell me that at my current weight I will not live to 50. I've told myself such things for years, but the effect of having a health professional say it so bluntly is profound. I fell apart. All of a sudden I realised that this journey is SOOOOOOOO much bigger than wearing cute clothes, or walking up stairs without puffing, or vanity, or even having children - this really is life and death for me.
The surgeon also gave me the hard line on my commitments - a change in psychology, a change in eating patterns, a change in lifestyle and later, a change in exercise routine. Minimum 5 hours a week, low carb, high protein portion control diet, complete compliance with all required medications/vitamins/etc and most importantly no cheating. It was a hard conversation - but amid the shock and being a little blindsided by the whole "dead before 50" line, I was actually ready to hear it. And upon further reflection it's driven home for me how incredibly serious this is. I don't want to forget that going forward because really, juxtaposed against the alternative, it's a no brainer.
This has to happen. And it has to work.
 |
| About to go in for my first appointment with my beautiful support person Ros! |
 |
| What does a food addict do after a gastric sleeve appointment? Feast on KFC of course!!!! |
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| Um, YUM! |
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
A Pressing Appointment....
Well, I know, long time no write! Life has been rather dull of late, on account of going through ankle surgery and a very long, drawn out recovery. I'm not there yet, but progress is ongoing! Sporting a very lovely ankle boot, I've begun getting just a little bit excited and nervous about my other surgery, especially considering I am currently 9 months into my waiting period. It has all become just a little bit more real.
I've been thinking a lot lately about those who aren't successful with their surgery. What is the difference between success and failure? The only answer I can come up with is that it's a bit like any other addiction....you can go to rehabiliation, do months and months of work, but if you go back to your regular environment afterwards you'll just go back to drugs because all the systems that kept you locked in that addiction are still there - nothing has changed. The key for me I think is not just changing the physical but changing the systems - the mindsets - the world in which I reside. Every single aspect of my life MUST change in order for this to work. I have to somehow unhook myself from my associations with food. It seems like such a mammoth task, something I should have started a lot sooner than now. I just dont know where to start.
It sounds like such a silly thing - why should I be such a slave to food? The problem is, food is not something that can be completely given up. Unlike drugs, or alcohol, everyone on this planet has to eat in order to survive. No one can give it up completely, and thus its like saying to a drug addict...you can only have THIS much crack. No more than that. Unrealistic? Very!
So much of my life, of everyone's lives really, revolves around food. This was brought home to me yesterday when my dear friend Liesl was talking about going to her favourite burger place for lunch. i told her I wanted to go there with her next time I was in Qld, and she pointed out "well, theres probably no real point after you've had the surgery right" - and she's right. It's sad, but she's right. All of a sudden, its kind of like I'm having to give up the social activities that surround food, or be separated from everyone else because I can't eat like they can. It's a scary prospect, but it's also an exciting idea that I can be free from food. The idea that I can eat very small amounts and be completely satisfied and lose the weight. I can barely imagine my life this time next year - both exciting and terrifying.
It's late, and I'm probably not making a whole lot of sense. Lets just say the wheels are in motion - it's a daunting prospect but it's one I take deadly seriously. I know there are friends of mine watching me do this and waiting to see how I go, and I can't let myself down. The change will happen, my confidence will grow, and this time next year the world will be much changed.
P xox
I've been thinking a lot lately about those who aren't successful with their surgery. What is the difference between success and failure? The only answer I can come up with is that it's a bit like any other addiction....you can go to rehabiliation, do months and months of work, but if you go back to your regular environment afterwards you'll just go back to drugs because all the systems that kept you locked in that addiction are still there - nothing has changed. The key for me I think is not just changing the physical but changing the systems - the mindsets - the world in which I reside. Every single aspect of my life MUST change in order for this to work. I have to somehow unhook myself from my associations with food. It seems like such a mammoth task, something I should have started a lot sooner than now. I just dont know where to start.
It sounds like such a silly thing - why should I be such a slave to food? The problem is, food is not something that can be completely given up. Unlike drugs, or alcohol, everyone on this planet has to eat in order to survive. No one can give it up completely, and thus its like saying to a drug addict...you can only have THIS much crack. No more than that. Unrealistic? Very!
So much of my life, of everyone's lives really, revolves around food. This was brought home to me yesterday when my dear friend Liesl was talking about going to her favourite burger place for lunch. i told her I wanted to go there with her next time I was in Qld, and she pointed out "well, theres probably no real point after you've had the surgery right" - and she's right. It's sad, but she's right. All of a sudden, its kind of like I'm having to give up the social activities that surround food, or be separated from everyone else because I can't eat like they can. It's a scary prospect, but it's also an exciting idea that I can be free from food. The idea that I can eat very small amounts and be completely satisfied and lose the weight. I can barely imagine my life this time next year - both exciting and terrifying.
It's late, and I'm probably not making a whole lot of sense. Lets just say the wheels are in motion - it's a daunting prospect but it's one I take deadly seriously. I know there are friends of mine watching me do this and waiting to see how I go, and I can't let myself down. The change will happen, my confidence will grow, and this time next year the world will be much changed.
P xox
Saturday, February 15, 2014
You Don't Make Friends with Salad...
Or maybe you do? LOL
Lately I've been part of a "salad club" at work - once a week we each bring a salad to share with the rest of the group, providing healthy, fresh low fat low carb options for lunch four out of five days a week. At first I was a mix of enthusiasm and dread - I have always hated salad - its never been something I would choose to eat. But over time, as different salads came in to work every day from different colleagues, I found myself looking forward to it. Knowing that there was something different there every day kind of made me excited, and slowly my taste for it developed.
I then had to go to Sydney last week, so I've kind of reverted back to the quick take out crap i was eating before, but I quickly got really sick of that and found myself craving lettuce and tomatos and fresh dressings....I realised that what I really want for lunch is fresh low fat food. I dont even want sandwiches for lunch anymore, I really want salads!!!
So, perhaps tastes really can change over time. Don't get me wrong, once a week I indulge and I get take out for lunch. But its not something I want to do on a daily basis anymore. Its a revelation to me that I can really enjoy something I always dismissed as gross. It gives me hope that habits really can change. I've also begun drinking a lot more water, and I'm trying really hard to have smaller meals at dinner time too. Sometimes its hard to do these things, but I really don't want it to be a shock when I finally do get the opportunity to get the surgery I need. I am hopefully going to get back into swimming this week, and I'm hoping soon I'll see and feel the effects of these changes. I'll keep you posted.
Lately I've been part of a "salad club" at work - once a week we each bring a salad to share with the rest of the group, providing healthy, fresh low fat low carb options for lunch four out of five days a week. At first I was a mix of enthusiasm and dread - I have always hated salad - its never been something I would choose to eat. But over time, as different salads came in to work every day from different colleagues, I found myself looking forward to it. Knowing that there was something different there every day kind of made me excited, and slowly my taste for it developed.
I then had to go to Sydney last week, so I've kind of reverted back to the quick take out crap i was eating before, but I quickly got really sick of that and found myself craving lettuce and tomatos and fresh dressings....I realised that what I really want for lunch is fresh low fat food. I dont even want sandwiches for lunch anymore, I really want salads!!!
So, perhaps tastes really can change over time. Don't get me wrong, once a week I indulge and I get take out for lunch. But its not something I want to do on a daily basis anymore. Its a revelation to me that I can really enjoy something I always dismissed as gross. It gives me hope that habits really can change. I've also begun drinking a lot more water, and I'm trying really hard to have smaller meals at dinner time too. Sometimes its hard to do these things, but I really don't want it to be a shock when I finally do get the opportunity to get the surgery I need. I am hopefully going to get back into swimming this week, and I'm hoping soon I'll see and feel the effects of these changes. I'll keep you posted.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Slippery Slopes
It's been 7 weeks since I switched health funds and began the waiting period before my surgery. Knowing that I'm in early days towards the date that I will be elligible for surgery I am keen to start adopting new behaviours and lifestyle choices that will be more in line with my life after the procedure is done.
I went and bought some Optifast to try and accustom myself to the taste - I found having it first thing in the morning made me feel sick in the stomach :( I'm going to try having it for lunch one day this week and see what happens. I talked to my psychologist about it and she said you're allowed to have the bars and the soups too, plus a cup of vegetables a day also, so its not quite as dire as I first thought. Still, its going to be a huge challenge to go two or more weeks on Optifast and nothing else.
I feel like I'm on a slippery slope trying to climb my way back up....I get really inspired and tell myself that I'm going to do all the right things and take hold of this thing before I go in to the operating room.....and in the moment I truly mean it. But then, I get tired so I dont go for a walk, or I get bored so I eat, or I slip back into old ways without really even thinking about it anymore.
If you have ever been seriously addicted to drugs or alcohol, you'll totally get what I mean. My willpower is not enough for me to make the changes I need to make. I honestly don't know what the answer is. But I do know that the more I beat myself up about it, the more I do it, so it's probably better that I dont! I have to learn to accept me exactly as I am - if I am not enough while overweight, I'll never be enough when I lose it.
I went and bought some Optifast to try and accustom myself to the taste - I found having it first thing in the morning made me feel sick in the stomach :( I'm going to try having it for lunch one day this week and see what happens. I talked to my psychologist about it and she said you're allowed to have the bars and the soups too, plus a cup of vegetables a day also, so its not quite as dire as I first thought. Still, its going to be a huge challenge to go two or more weeks on Optifast and nothing else.
I feel like I'm on a slippery slope trying to climb my way back up....I get really inspired and tell myself that I'm going to do all the right things and take hold of this thing before I go in to the operating room.....and in the moment I truly mean it. But then, I get tired so I dont go for a walk, or I get bored so I eat, or I slip back into old ways without really even thinking about it anymore.
If you have ever been seriously addicted to drugs or alcohol, you'll totally get what I mean. My willpower is not enough for me to make the changes I need to make. I honestly don't know what the answer is. But I do know that the more I beat myself up about it, the more I do it, so it's probably better that I dont! I have to learn to accept me exactly as I am - if I am not enough while overweight, I'll never be enough when I lose it.
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