So, many changes lately. Many for the better, some for the “whatever.”
One thing I have been dedicated to is my weight loss journey. I am (or was last Friday) 426 lbs. I’m 5’7″. That’s pretty liberating to say.
I can say it here because I understand the direct connection(s) between my weight and my abuse. At least some of them.
Anyway, as I have been healing I have been more serious about weight loss. Not because I feel I deserve to be more attractive, or healthier, or because I don’t need my defense mechanisms. I’m sure that’s all part of it. The primary reason is that I’m tired of being an f-ing advertisement for the exploitations of a very sick woman. I am sick of looking into the mirror and seeing a reflection of years of abuse.
I have to say though, on a related note, I often hear family members comment about how I look just like my mom. If I lose 200 lbs just to see her in the mirror, I might freak out. But that’s what my therapist is for.
I have decided to have weight loss surgery. I have a surgery appointment for 6/9. I am ready. In preparation, I am doing an extreme medically supervised diet. My doctor wants me to drop as much weight as possible in order to have less risks on the table. I think also because he wants to know I’m serious. So I am ingesting 900 calories a day in mostly liquid form. I see the doctor every week, and I get blood work every week. Tomorrow is my first weigh in. I have this fear that I will have gained weight and I will have a fit.
I think my body is telling me that I am losing weight. I won’t go into details. I will only get on the scale in my doctor’s office. Logically I must be losing weight because I am following the plan. In my head I am gaining weight.
I also think I might be experiencing a euphoria, and a slight feeling of “being high.” Stressier than ordinary life stressors are being reacted to with an “oh well, keep trucking” attitude. That may be healthy, but it’s not my normal. Not yet.