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

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.

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.

Time for an Identity Crisis....

Well hello....if you're reading this you're either one of my friends who has stumbled upon my new corner of the universe, or alternatively its at least 12 months on from when I started this and I've begun telling people about it.

So, here's the deal. 355 days from now I will be eligible to do the biggest thing I've ever done in my life - I'll qualify to have gastric sleeve surgery (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleeve_gastrectomy) This is not a decision I've made lightly - in fact I agonized over the idea for quite a while before I even mentioned it to my husband. His reaction? He would have piled me in the car and shipped me off to Sydney then and there. The only problem is that my health insurance wasn't sufficient, thus the 12 month waiting period before I can have it done.

I only found out after I made the decision that my psychologist who I've been seeing for about 6 months actually had the surgery done years ago by the same clinic I'm going to. That I guess was a kind of confirmation to me that I'm in the right place and that this is the right thing. In addition my best and dearest friend and her mother are both considering having the surgery also, so there's certainly plenty of people in my life receptive to the idea. The only problem is, I really haven't told many people about it. There's like, two people at work who know, my GP, my husband and his dad, and two of my best friends. That's about it really. And that's probably the way it will stay for quite some time. I don't really want anyone to know because it's such a massive thing to have to go through, and its kinda private - intensely personal and very daunting. I just dont want the scrutiny that always comes with this kind of thing....people at work knowing why I'm taking time off work to go get it done, and then watching every little thing I eat afterwards like a hawk. Looking at my waistline to see how much weight I've lost, swapping war stories with those who've had it done, or knows someone whose had it done, or has a friend of a friend of a friend whose had it done.....I just dont want to go through all the comments, suggestions, etc. If I get a compliment, awesome - i'm all for that - but I'm just not too keen on being under the microscope after I get it done.

So, for now this blog remains between me and whoever stumbles upon it. I do have a burning desire to document the 12 month lead up to the surgery, because it is such a big thing - and it might help someone else considering the same. I also want to start being more aware of what I eat, and how it makes me feel because I know this will be really important post surgery. I also want to start looking at my relationship with food, how it has developed to where we are now, and how it's going to change when food is no longer a major element of my life.

So, to begin, I've been thinking lately about my identity. I've always been a very chubby kid. My grandparents used to pinch my cheeks and my chubby little arms and legs and it was cute for a while - then I grew to primary school and my chubbiness was no longer cute. I've been on a diet since before I can remember because my father was also a fat kid and had a lot of issues with food and fat. So, I have vivid memories as a child being restricted in my food - we'd be at a tennis tournament and my parents would be watching every morsel I put in my mouth at the pot luck lunch. I'd get in trouble if I drank too much milk (I LOOOVEEED milk) and I learnt very early on that it was pretty easy to steal cheese slices from my grandmother's fridge when no one was looking as these would not be easily missed. By the time I was a teenager my dysfunctional love affair with food - ANY food - was well and truly cemented.

It wasn't junk food either - it was milk, bread, leftovers, cheese, anything I could get my hands on that wasn't fruit or veg. I don't really know where the food ends and I begin. The only time I was a healthy weight in my whole life was when I was 14-15 years old - I lost my baby fat and was on weight watchers with my step mother (not officially since I was too young but I was following it along with her). I remember squeeeeeeezing myself into size 13 jeans and being REALLY excited. That was the last time I was a healthy weight - and I was MISERABLE. The mental and emotional abuse I suffered as a child was at its peak around that time. When I turned 16 I went to boarding school and scoffed food like there was no tomorrow. Bread made any boarding school meal edible, and croissants on a Sunday morning were a genuinely thrilling experience.  By the time I came home from boarding school the weight was well and truly creeping back on, and boy did I hear about it from my parents. My grade 12 year was by far the worst year of my life, and not because of my weight but because of the way things were at home. I was back on weight watchers, and I looked AMAZING in my size 14 dress for formal - but from then on things were never the same. University, really crappy college food, lots of study and very little activity meant that by the time I dropped out of my first uni stint with depression I was a shadow of my former self. You can say I've been recovering ever since.

The reason I tell you all this is to point out that my whole life has revolved around my weight and food - I dont really have an identity without dieting, calories, fat, scales and binge eating. It's really hard for me to imagine not being a big eater, and only eating a cup of food at a time. And it has to be energy rich food, so gone will be my days of pigging out at Christmas time, or having a big dinner with friends, or indulging for family events. My life will no longer be coloured by smells, sounds, textures and tastes of a good roast dinner, or my favourite chicken casserole, or a big ol steak.

So who am I without food? What will I do when eating a very small meal takes an hour to eat because I have to chew really slowly? I guess I need to find out now, because soon that will be my reality, and at that point, there will be no going back.

So stay tuned - hopefully in the next 355 days I'll figure it out - and before the end I'll be prepared for the new life that lies before me!