Sunday, January 17, 2010

Why I'm having bariatric surgery. Or, "Because I said so."

Here is why I'm going to extreme lengths to lose weight.  In no particular order:

*I can't walk.  I have to plan everything I do so I take the least amount of steps.  I worry that I will get halfway through the store and not be able to get back to my car because my back hurts so bad.
*I can't bend over.  God help me if I drop something important.
*I can't sit on the floor or cross my legs.
*I can't wear real shoes or slippers or anything cute.  My feet are practically round.
*My legs and feet are constantly swollen.  They look appalling.
*Good grooming is a major undertaking, and sometimes impossible.  I can't reach to scrub my back, or in-between my toes, or exfoliate and shave my legs comfortably, so I always feel slightly icky.
*I have no neck.  I got a necklace as a gift and I love it, but can't wear it.
*I haven't gone on a vacation in a year, because I can't fit comfortably on a plane.  It is mortifying to have to ask for a lap-belt expander, and even worse to see the look of annoyance on the person who realizes they have to sit next to me.  And I love to fly, and to travel.  But right now the idea of having to travel feel like a little piece of hell.
*I hate people looking to see what I eat, whether it's in a restaurant or at the grocery store.  This one is probably in my head more than in reality, but it makes me self-conscious.
*I love swimming, and I'm too embarassed to go to a public pool.  I can't even find a swimsuit that fits.
*I can't breathe.  I found out that I don't have asthma, or anything wrong with my lungs.  They just can't expand enough with all the fat surrounding them.  I also have to wear a machine that breathes for me at night.
*My stomach almost touches the steering wheel, even with the seat all the way back.
*The thrill of new clothes is dampered by how unlikely I am to find something that fits, and to realize that I don't look cute in it anyway. 
*I've isolated myself to the point that I can go a whole weekend without leaving the house or talking to anyone.  And I'm a natural extrovert.
*About 90 pounds ago, I went on some blind dates.  And it killed my soul a little each time I would meet someone new and see the look of disappointment flash in their eyes.  One guy even walked out on me, pretending that he wasn't the one that was supposed to meet me.   And that was 90 pounds ago.
*I don't love meeting new people.  I don't love trying new things.  I don't love the unknown.  And I used to love all of that.  Now, all I can think of are the barriers:  Will that new restaurant have a booth I can't fit in?  Will that new person blow me off before getting to know me?  Will I be humiliated and embarrassed because I can't do something?  And I hate this scared, "glass-half-empty" person. 
*I love fussing with my hair, makeup, and clothes.  But I don't because right now I don't see the point--none of it makes me feel pretty anymore.
*"No fat chicks."
*Feeling out of control every time I get hungry.  And out of control every time I eat. 
*The bigger I am, the smaller my world gets.
*I almost don't remember what it feels like to be flirted with, or kissed, or admired.  I remember just enough to make me really sad.
*I see the look of worry in the eyes of my friends and family.  And I hate being the cause of that.
*I dread going to the doctor.
*I waste a lot of time with worry, with disappointment, with being preoccupied with food, with living second-hand.
*I feel like I'm a disappointment to my family, and I feel like I'm a burden to my friends.
*I'm feel like a happy person trapped inside a lot of misery and sadness.
*I eat to feel better, and I just end up feeling worse.
*I miss having hope, and possibilities, and energy.

This post is designed to slap me in the face anytime I want to go "off plan" after the surgery.  I know there are people that gain back all the weight, and I don't want to be one of them.  I need to remember why I made this decision in the coming months when I am tempted to go off plan.  I need to remember that I am doing this to get my life back, and how grim it has been.  It's all too easy to forget, and forgetting this misery is the surest way to get back to it.


  1. A) I only look at the food on your plate to see if there is anything I want and 2) You are an amazing woman and I am honored to be your friend.

  2. You're so awesome! By the way, soon my plate will have plenty left on it for you to scavenge. Unfortunately, you will not do this because you are afraid of germs. :-(

  3. I'm a bit late in responding to this post. duh
    I love what your friend, Diane wrote.
    And your list makes me sad and I've got a surgery date of June 15th but I'm not sure I want to blog about it.

  4. I am soon having VSG and this post is a great reminder to me. This "The bigger I am, the smaller my world gets." made me cry because it describes me exactly. I am going to use it as my reminder every day why I am doing this! Hugs!