Hey there. Sorry it's been a while since my last chitchat. This whole process is unbelievably time consuming. The insurance company requires a several step task list to ensure that I will go through with the process no matter how complicated it is. Honestly, it's a good idea because you can't help but think about it from every angle. This transition is on my mind constantly and I have begun to think of my life in two parts: who I am now and what it will be like as "Becky Mock 2" (I hope you like my new direction). Anyway, I apologize for not keeping this blog going as I had hoped but I will take a few minutes to catch you up.
I have been working my way through my list of tasks. Here is a list of requirements:
1. Monthly visits with my surgeon (always positive, always supportive. Tentative surgery date: 9/20/11)
2. Sleep study (one of the most bizarre nights of my life and that is saying something if you knew me in college or during my tenure in New Brunswick) P.S. - no sleep apnea, thankfully
3. Gastroenterologist for an Endoscopy. (Did it. Done. Found a possible small hiatal hernia which may have an effect on my surgery but we won't know until the actual procedure. It may have to be done as a complete gastric bypass and that scares me but I am willing to do it if that is the best choice in the reality of that moment.)
4. Therapist to ensure that I am not doing this because I am bored and want something to do. (Apparently that happens...)
5. GP sign off.(I have a new GP (long story) and she seems like a good fit.)
6.Dietician. (So far, so good. I was happy to hear that I already enjoy a lot of the foods I am supposed to eat and have been using them for years.)
7. Cardiologist for a stress test. This is upcoming so I don't have much to report.
I have started telling more and more people about the surgery, I mean besides in a blog that complete strangers are able to read. I have told a few people at work and the reactions differ greatly. I have received support, projection and flat out stunned silence. I have made it clear to those I have shared it with that while I am not broadcasting it to the entire department I am willing to answer questions if anyone wants to know the who, what, where, why and how.
My family is supportive but my parents are understandably anxious. They have a friend who's daughter recently had a weight loss surgery and wound up in a coma for months. As a parent, I would be scared, too, but amazingly they continue to support me. I started to talk with Marley (my seven year old) about what I am doing and why. She has only known me as fluffy (our loving word for fat) and is a little scared of not feeling my softness that comforts her. I promised her I would keep some padding just in case she needs a mushy hug. Lex is kinda oblivious. To be honest, she is going through her own scary time as she prepares for starting school and being on her own so we take it a day at a time. Kenny has been amazing. This a big transition for us as a couple, friends, parents and partners. He has met with my surgeon, attended a support group meeting and has started thinking of ways to change how we eat. I know things will be very different in a few months but having him in my corner is a huge help.
The "food mourning" has already begun and it's really strange. Every time I eat something I wonder, "will I ever eat this again?" I have never deluded myself into believing that I don't have an emotional relationship with food but I just didn't realize how intense it is. I find I want to gorge more because I feel like I have started the break up process of dumping my unhealthy co-dependent self because, well, yeah, that's what is happening. Maybe I should make a mix tape and entitle it "It's me, not you".
Recently, I have been fortunate to reconnect with several friends from high school, college and beyond. These reunions have been really healing in a way that I didn't expect. I mean, sure, I wanted to just hang out my friends and shoot the shit but I also found these pieces of myself that I thought were gone. Luckily, they weren't. My world has become larger, warmer and more nurturing. It's nice to know that we all have to grow and change but at the same time 15 years can feel like 15 minutes when you get back together. Ain't that some shit?
Well, these are my late night ramblings. I hope you and yours are well and that you are enjoying your summer.
Love,
b
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Just A Quick Shout Out
Hey again. I just want to take a moment to shout out a big thanks for the helpful comments and support today; I am so grateful. I know that a lot of people can relate to this type of experience at some point in their lives which makes it just that much more upsetting to me. BUT life goes on and I am ready. Sharing this experience has taken a lot of the sting out and serves as a reminder that the beauty of being an adult is that I don't have to do anything that doesn't support my moving forward. Sometimes just getting it out is the best medicine.
That being said if you EVER need a shoulder, an ear, a laugh, a tasty adult beverage, a night out...whatever! I am right here and happy to reciprocate.
Much love and a big Happy Mother's Day to all of you that nurture this world in whatever capacity that entails. It matters, it really does.
b
That being said if you EVER need a shoulder, an ear, a laugh, a tasty adult beverage, a night out...whatever! I am right here and happy to reciprocate.
Much love and a big Happy Mother's Day to all of you that nurture this world in whatever capacity that entails. It matters, it really does.
b
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
The One Where I Tell a Humiliating Story
Hey there. I hope you are well and got to enjoy some of that gorgeous weather last weekend. I could do without this crappy rain and chilly temps but alas it will be hot soon enough and I will be bitching about that, too. :)
I met with the Surgeon last Thursday and am thrilled to be working with her. The meeting was really interesting and I have every confidence that I have found the right person to work with during this journey. We spoke about a lot of things and I will touch on different elements of it as things progress but I want to start with food journaling. This isn't my first time with a food journal so it's not a foreign concept to me. If you have ever tried any other weight loss program (which will not be named due to trademark issues...it's like the Voldemort of weight loss - the program that shall not be named!) this is a tool utilized for keeping track of your eating and adding a level of accountability.
Ok, no biggie. I bop to the store and pick out my cute little journal that fits so perfectly in my purse blah blah blah. I am doing my best to eat my several small meals during the day focusing on protein rich foods, etc. (also part of my transition). For the first couple of days I got this on lock but then the cravings start again and it becomes nearly a compulsion. I can't stop thinking about eating and for some reason I find myself ridiculously angry. Like angry angry, like "I want to get in someone's face just 'cause" kinda angry. I really don't get like this often but when I do it's a warning sign that something just ain't right. The eating continued to get out of control: a pint of ice cream, eating out, tortilla chips, oreos, oreos and more oreos. Did I mention oreos? WTF??!! Why do I want to eat until I explode while wanting to punch anyone who pisses me off? And then it finally came to me...it was a year ago at this time that I experienced a really humiliating experience at my job that hurt so much that I just pushed it down so I wouldn't have to feel it.
Ok, background. A couple of year ago I started at my job working for "The Man" a.k.a. - The State of New Jersey. I was excited for a change but at the same time I kept to myself. I was insecure because of my weight and wasn't sure how to express my quirky offbeat self. If there's one thing my job doesn't do is "quirky and offbeat". I was withdrawn for about six months and I wasn't used to feeling so alienated, especially by choice. I had been wanting to lose weight (for the millionth time) and ready to work hard at it. My hope was that as I lost the weight I would feel more comfortable being myself and people would start to get to know me and I wouldn't feel so alone. Now to be fair I have met some really cool folks that are my friends but I wanted to feel like it was ok to just be Bec. When I started with my position we were a large group. Most of the newbies immediately took to each other while I was always on the periphery. They went out for lunch, drinks, etc. I had never made an attempt to participate so I felt I had no one to blame but myself. So around a year ago in March, after losing thirty pounds, I felt ready to put myself out there and asked if I could join the next lunch outing. I was in for a rude awakening. It was very clear that I was an interloper and not welcome. I tried going out once again to see if I was misreading the situation. Second time was not a charm and quite clearly a mistake. But to make matters worse I found that there were a couple of people that would engage in conversation with me just to turn my words around and mock me behind my back. How did I know? Because I caught several of them repeating my words and laughing at my expense. I felt like I was hit with a brick. Here I was feeling good about myself and hoping I was finding my way to then find that I set myself up to be a target of disdain. I can't tell you how much that hurt. It still hurts me right now as I write about it. If you know me you understand that I don't do that shit and personally don't understand why others enjoy it. It's certainly not the first time it had ever happened but this one felt the most malicious and it wrecked me. I went on trying to act like I didn't care and just pulled away again but the damage was done. My confidence dropped and my naivete that I would be accepted because I felt good about myself was crushed. I was hurting and the scale slowly began to creep back up.
I know you're thinking, "Ok, that totally sucks but what does this have to do with journaling?" I will attempt to make my point. There are so many elements of this transition that I already know how to do: journaling, eating frequent small meals, chewing more slowly, exercising. I have done them before and have had short lived successes. I realize that each time I lost weight there was this part of me that really hoped that the best part would be that people would accept me. Yeah, well, that's not how it works. I can journal until I am blue in the face but it doesn't stop the pain of feeling rejected, seeing myself as a failure and knowing that food is how I have always dealt with these emotions. What's going to happen when I make this drastic change where I can no longer feel through food? How will I feel when the weight is gone and I am left with people who hate me no matter what I do? What then?
Sure, I am still pissed as hell that those fuckers got to me but to put another spin on it there is a part of me that is wondering if I can use that anger and shift it into a something workable. I hope that at some point opening my journal will have a better and more positive connotation but right now every time I open it l I feel like I am ripping open a wound that, after thirty years of trying, has still not healed. I can't control how other people feel about me and I would be wise to remind myself of that often; however, at the end of it all I want to feel good in my own skin. I truly hope that is the outcome.
So there you have it. My heart and guts ripped out on the table. I am sure that everyone has had an experience like this and to be honest that makes me sad and disgusted. I knew that this whole process would be daunting but the hardest part is facing my demons. Perhaps one day I will have the courage to tell The Little Shits (my pet name) to go jump but I would rather just find some peace. I feel some of the anger receding so thanks for sticking with me. Perhaps not my best written blog but one that comes sincerely from my heart.
Love,
b
I met with the Surgeon last Thursday and am thrilled to be working with her. The meeting was really interesting and I have every confidence that I have found the right person to work with during this journey. We spoke about a lot of things and I will touch on different elements of it as things progress but I want to start with food journaling. This isn't my first time with a food journal so it's not a foreign concept to me. If you have ever tried any other weight loss program (which will not be named due to trademark issues...it's like the Voldemort of weight loss - the program that shall not be named!) this is a tool utilized for keeping track of your eating and adding a level of accountability.
Ok, no biggie. I bop to the store and pick out my cute little journal that fits so perfectly in my purse blah blah blah. I am doing my best to eat my several small meals during the day focusing on protein rich foods, etc. (also part of my transition). For the first couple of days I got this on lock but then the cravings start again and it becomes nearly a compulsion. I can't stop thinking about eating and for some reason I find myself ridiculously angry. Like angry angry, like "I want to get in someone's face just 'cause" kinda angry. I really don't get like this often but when I do it's a warning sign that something just ain't right. The eating continued to get out of control: a pint of ice cream, eating out, tortilla chips, oreos, oreos and more oreos. Did I mention oreos? WTF??!! Why do I want to eat until I explode while wanting to punch anyone who pisses me off? And then it finally came to me...it was a year ago at this time that I experienced a really humiliating experience at my job that hurt so much that I just pushed it down so I wouldn't have to feel it.
Ok, background. A couple of year ago I started at my job working for "The Man" a.k.a. - The State of New Jersey. I was excited for a change but at the same time I kept to myself. I was insecure because of my weight and wasn't sure how to express my quirky offbeat self. If there's one thing my job doesn't do is "quirky and offbeat". I was withdrawn for about six months and I wasn't used to feeling so alienated, especially by choice. I had been wanting to lose weight (for the millionth time) and ready to work hard at it. My hope was that as I lost the weight I would feel more comfortable being myself and people would start to get to know me and I wouldn't feel so alone. Now to be fair I have met some really cool folks that are my friends but I wanted to feel like it was ok to just be Bec. When I started with my position we were a large group. Most of the newbies immediately took to each other while I was always on the periphery. They went out for lunch, drinks, etc. I had never made an attempt to participate so I felt I had no one to blame but myself. So around a year ago in March, after losing thirty pounds, I felt ready to put myself out there and asked if I could join the next lunch outing. I was in for a rude awakening. It was very clear that I was an interloper and not welcome. I tried going out once again to see if I was misreading the situation. Second time was not a charm and quite clearly a mistake. But to make matters worse I found that there were a couple of people that would engage in conversation with me just to turn my words around and mock me behind my back. How did I know? Because I caught several of them repeating my words and laughing at my expense. I felt like I was hit with a brick. Here I was feeling good about myself and hoping I was finding my way to then find that I set myself up to be a target of disdain. I can't tell you how much that hurt. It still hurts me right now as I write about it. If you know me you understand that I don't do that shit and personally don't understand why others enjoy it. It's certainly not the first time it had ever happened but this one felt the most malicious and it wrecked me. I went on trying to act like I didn't care and just pulled away again but the damage was done. My confidence dropped and my naivete that I would be accepted because I felt good about myself was crushed. I was hurting and the scale slowly began to creep back up.
I know you're thinking, "Ok, that totally sucks but what does this have to do with journaling?" I will attempt to make my point. There are so many elements of this transition that I already know how to do: journaling, eating frequent small meals, chewing more slowly, exercising. I have done them before and have had short lived successes. I realize that each time I lost weight there was this part of me that really hoped that the best part would be that people would accept me. Yeah, well, that's not how it works. I can journal until I am blue in the face but it doesn't stop the pain of feeling rejected, seeing myself as a failure and knowing that food is how I have always dealt with these emotions. What's going to happen when I make this drastic change where I can no longer feel through food? How will I feel when the weight is gone and I am left with people who hate me no matter what I do? What then?
Sure, I am still pissed as hell that those fuckers got to me but to put another spin on it there is a part of me that is wondering if I can use that anger and shift it into a something workable. I hope that at some point opening my journal will have a better and more positive connotation but right now every time I open it l I feel like I am ripping open a wound that, after thirty years of trying, has still not healed. I can't control how other people feel about me and I would be wise to remind myself of that often; however, at the end of it all I want to feel good in my own skin. I truly hope that is the outcome.
So there you have it. My heart and guts ripped out on the table. I am sure that everyone has had an experience like this and to be honest that makes me sad and disgusted. I knew that this whole process would be daunting but the hardest part is facing my demons. Perhaps one day I will have the courage to tell The Little Shits (my pet name) to go jump but I would rather just find some peace. I feel some of the anger receding so thanks for sticking with me. Perhaps not my best written blog but one that comes sincerely from my heart.
Love,
b
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Food: My BFF/My Frenemy
First things first: THANK YOU! You guys seriously rock. I am humbled and touched by all of the support I am receiving. It means more to me than I can say. Coming "clean" with this life long struggle has made this process a little less intimidating. So, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. :)
Last night I attended a Bariatric Surgery Group. It's a support group for people who have had surgery, are awaiting surgery or contemplating surgery. I guess I fall into the "contemplating surgery" group since I haven't met with the surgeon yet but hoping a week from now I will be moving over to the "awaiting surgery" group. I find these meetings a helpful insight into what awaits. The Dr. asked those of us who are not yet in the process to ask any questions we had. To be honest I have so many questions and the whole thing still feels surreal but there is one element of this process that I really want to know: do you still have food cravings? I feel like my cravings rule my life. I don't always give into them but it doesn't mean they aren't hard at work. I haven't met a peanut butter cup I haven't liked...IN MY BELLY! Is it possible I won't even like them anymore? Am I ok with that? That, my friends, is a serious quandary.
So let's look at that. What's your favorite nosh, craving, must have go to food? Are you one of those awesome people who goes for a run or craves, I don't know, quinoa? (I will NEVER crave quinoa. Just sayin') Perhaps a big ol' pint of Ben and Jerry's Maple Blondie? What does it for you? What if you could take that craving away? Wow, think of all that brain space I would have to do other things. Not to mention the fact that I apparently think about cravings so much that I can write a post about it. One of the woman who had her surgery in January said that she went through a mourning period because food is no longer her buddy. That really got me thinking. Have I personified food into some sort of companion?
The short answer is yes, oui, si, you betcha, ja...OH HELLZ YEAH! I have never looked at it quite that way but it really makes sense. Food is my BFF and frenemy at the same time. When I feel alone, anxious, angry, sad the food is there as a great comfort. I tend to eat in the evening at home. During my work day I eat well and stay away from junk food. I believe part of that is because I am not emotionally invested in my job. Sure, I have some great friends that I truly care for but as a whole I maintain my distance. But once I get home I just want to eat. I am looking for the fastest way to reconnect with myself after a day of emotional abstinence. If the surgery is going to eliminate that part of the equation then I wonder what will replace it?
I have always been an emotionally driven person. Sometimes in a good way and others...well, not so great. My emotions allow me to easily listen to my intuition and be both compassionate and empathetic. These are characteristics that I admire in myself and am thrilled to share with the people in my life. On the other hand I also personalize things too much. I am not good at letting things roll off my back. Instead they roll into some delicious morsel and attach themselves to my gut. My emotions are literally my baggage. That has to change.
Realistically I know that I won't have it all "figured out" in a few months. I mean it has taken YEARS to get me to this place but my hope is that without cravings I will be able to face my feelings head on. I am not very good at processing upsetting things in the moment. After my brother was hurt I didn't have any idea how to feel that kind of pain, fear, etc. I just sort of packed it away and ignored it and this is what I have been doing for years. Unfortunately, they are never really gone. Instead they are just buried so deeply that I forget about them or try to. Food is a really great buffer for repressed feelings but also very destructive. I have gone through years of therapy, which is why I am still here, but it's time to move to the next level.
In all honesty, this is the part of the process that really scares me. Sure, I look forward to looking better, buying regular sized clothes and feeling more comfortable in my body but the fundamental shift I am hoping for is finding a new way to be present with myself. That is very daunting but I know it's the key to this journey.
I have no doubt I will touch on this subject again. It's the root of this decision and will need lots of TLC along the way.
Once again, thanks for checking in. Believe it or not this blog is like a truth serum that is long overdue.
Be well.
Love,
b
Last night I attended a Bariatric Surgery Group. It's a support group for people who have had surgery, are awaiting surgery or contemplating surgery. I guess I fall into the "contemplating surgery" group since I haven't met with the surgeon yet but hoping a week from now I will be moving over to the "awaiting surgery" group. I find these meetings a helpful insight into what awaits. The Dr. asked those of us who are not yet in the process to ask any questions we had. To be honest I have so many questions and the whole thing still feels surreal but there is one element of this process that I really want to know: do you still have food cravings? I feel like my cravings rule my life. I don't always give into them but it doesn't mean they aren't hard at work. I haven't met a peanut butter cup I haven't liked...IN MY BELLY! Is it possible I won't even like them anymore? Am I ok with that? That, my friends, is a serious quandary.
So let's look at that. What's your favorite nosh, craving, must have go to food? Are you one of those awesome people who goes for a run or craves, I don't know, quinoa? (I will NEVER crave quinoa. Just sayin') Perhaps a big ol' pint of Ben and Jerry's Maple Blondie? What does it for you? What if you could take that craving away? Wow, think of all that brain space I would have to do other things. Not to mention the fact that I apparently think about cravings so much that I can write a post about it. One of the woman who had her surgery in January said that she went through a mourning period because food is no longer her buddy. That really got me thinking. Have I personified food into some sort of companion?
The short answer is yes, oui, si, you betcha, ja...OH HELLZ YEAH! I have never looked at it quite that way but it really makes sense. Food is my BFF and frenemy at the same time. When I feel alone, anxious, angry, sad the food is there as a great comfort. I tend to eat in the evening at home. During my work day I eat well and stay away from junk food. I believe part of that is because I am not emotionally invested in my job. Sure, I have some great friends that I truly care for but as a whole I maintain my distance. But once I get home I just want to eat. I am looking for the fastest way to reconnect with myself after a day of emotional abstinence. If the surgery is going to eliminate that part of the equation then I wonder what will replace it?
I have always been an emotionally driven person. Sometimes in a good way and others...well, not so great. My emotions allow me to easily listen to my intuition and be both compassionate and empathetic. These are characteristics that I admire in myself and am thrilled to share with the people in my life. On the other hand I also personalize things too much. I am not good at letting things roll off my back. Instead they roll into some delicious morsel and attach themselves to my gut. My emotions are literally my baggage. That has to change.
Realistically I know that I won't have it all "figured out" in a few months. I mean it has taken YEARS to get me to this place but my hope is that without cravings I will be able to face my feelings head on. I am not very good at processing upsetting things in the moment. After my brother was hurt I didn't have any idea how to feel that kind of pain, fear, etc. I just sort of packed it away and ignored it and this is what I have been doing for years. Unfortunately, they are never really gone. Instead they are just buried so deeply that I forget about them or try to. Food is a really great buffer for repressed feelings but also very destructive. I have gone through years of therapy, which is why I am still here, but it's time to move to the next level.
In all honesty, this is the part of the process that really scares me. Sure, I look forward to looking better, buying regular sized clothes and feeling more comfortable in my body but the fundamental shift I am hoping for is finding a new way to be present with myself. That is very daunting but I know it's the key to this journey.
I have no doubt I will touch on this subject again. It's the root of this decision and will need lots of TLC along the way.
Once again, thanks for checking in. Believe it or not this blog is like a truth serum that is long overdue.
Be well.
Love,
b
Sunday, April 17, 2011
And then there was me.
I am still wondering if I am nuts to be posting this but for some odd reason I need to be in a place of complete honesty with myself and what better way to do that than to establish of a path of truth. You know that I am all about living in my truth and this new adventure that I am embarking on couldn't be more real.
No big shock here but...I am fat. I know, I know! Big shocker there. And not just pleasantly plump or anything cute like that. I am fat and much to my dismay now morbidly obese. I have been struggling with my weight since I was ten years old. I was petite until the summer before fourth grade when I began puberty and gained weight over the summer, then add getting my first pair of glasses and the target on my head was instantaneous. I remember fourth grade as one of the worst years of my life. Up until then I sort of blended into the back ground and had my share of friends. I was content with being myself. Even as I write this post I feel the churning in my stomach that I started to live with for many years. I was teased, bullied and generally treated like shit. I had never felt so unsure of myself and it was shocking.
I went on my first diet that following summer losing 20 lbs before entering the fifth grade. I felt better about myself but at the same time I was surprised at how my weight became about everyone else. The comments and back handed compliments were confusing and left me feeling even more insecure. So wait, if I lose weight I am tolerable but the more I weigh the less value I have? From that time on I have been struggling and obsessing about my weight.
Every few years I would diet for months and lose a significant amount of weight. Let's see there was the time in tenth grade because I was interested in this guy that pretty much told me that I would be perfect for him if I were a size 4. Um, excuse me, a fucking size 4! Are you kidding me? But I wanted his approval and my self esteem depended on it. To make matters worse he was emotionally abusive and even physically rough at times but that didn't stop my need for him to be attracted to me. I know I can't be mad at someone for not being attracted to me but the manipulation I tolerated was unforgivable, unforgivable of myself.
The behavior continued into college and then into my twenties as I followed the same path of weight loss, desire to be loved and then the shame when the weight slowly came back. Was I ever going to get this right?
In my mid twenties I really took the bull by the horns and changed my life significantly. I quit my 6 year smoking habit, caffeine and sugar. As of today I can say that I rarely consume caffeine and haven't smoked one ciggy in 15 years. I walked twice a day religiously. It was easy because I was single, answered only to myself and how I spent my time and how much or little I ate. My weight loss during the next couple of years was significant and liberating. For the first time in my adult life I saw how the other half lived. I equate it to the Eddie Murphy sketch on SNL "White Like Me" when he experimented with being a white man and noticed how differently white people were treated such as a cocktail party on the bus, given free money at the bank, etc. If you haven't checked this out I highly recommend it. It's hilarious and exemplifies my reaction to my new "status" as a thinner person. Here's the link: http://www.hulu.com/watch/10356/saturday-night-live-white-like-me
I couldn't believe how different it was. People smiled at me, gave me free stuff, held the door open (I can't tell you have how many doors I have had closed on me) and spoke to me freely and happily. I acknowledge that some of that was my new sense of happiness in myself and that definitely makes a big difference in how others relate to you. I am not blaming the world at large here but you cannot deny that the prejudice about weight is alive and well in America.
I enjoyed my time as the "thin me" for a couple of years but then the weight came back on. I met my husband when I was thinner and spent years terrified that he would leave me because I was getting fatter and fatter. I was on the Weight Watchers program several times finding short lived success and getting more and more frustrated and depressed with every subsequent weight gain.
I then tried to be happy with how I was. I mean don't get me wrong I have MANY blessings and regardless of my weight I am thankful for them every single day but it doesn't change how I feel about myself. I feel so much shame about these failures and it becomes an emotional weight gain as well. I have always admired people that love themselves exactly as they are. I worked at that as well but it didn't work. I come away feeling like I am not really living my truth. Is it the whole "skinny person in a fat person's body" thing? Hmm...is it?
Yeah, no. It is so much more than that and anyone with an addiction problem will tell you the same thing. It's the emotional component that makes addiction so well...addicting. I don't eat just to eat. I often eat to feel. There's a rush involved in the "high" that is as addictive as coke or booze. Of course, our society doesn't view weight issues as addictions but rather as laziness and lack of self control. Perhaps I do lack self control but tell me, don't we all in some aspect of our lives? Why are some addictions "acceptable" and tolerated as a "disease" but eating addiction is about "putting the fork down and going outside for a run when you're hungry". Hmm...fuck you and your simplistic analysis. Do you walk up to an alcoholic and say, "just put the drink down and go for run around the block"? Didn't think so.
In the past few years I have been shocked at how hating fat people has become so prevalent. It's as though obesity is the last socially acceptable prejudice allowed in our country. A few months back there was this whole controversy over a CBS showed entitled "Mike and Molly". A blogger wrote an article essentially stating that it was unacceptable to produce a show that was based on two overweight people falling in love. This article was, in my opinion, stupid and careless but it was the readers' comments that floored me. Some people were saying that fat people are disgusting and that they can't even look at them without wanting to throw up, etc. you get the point. Fortunately A LOT of people reacted by telling her to stuff it so she retracted her statement...sort of. Here is the article (and retraction): http://www.marieclaire.com/sex-love/dating-blog/overweight-couples-on-television
NOTE: Did you see the part where she bestows her advice about how to eat fruits and vegetables and exercise more? She's such a peach...a peach that I would like to fucking stomp into the ground but that's just me.
So, am I really some beast that is costing the country millions of dollars? No, I am pretty sure Wall Street took care of that but it certainly doesn't stop me from feeling like I am some sort of villain just for not being aesthetically pleasing.
As some of you know I had a really intense health scare last summer that had NOTHING to do with my weight. I developed blood clots that went to my lungs as a result of a medication I was taking at the time. It was one of the scariest moments of my life especially because I was perilously close to losing it. That experience brought me up short. I had never faced my mortality so succinctly before and it was a defining moment. I started to think about what matters to me and of course the love and well being of my family was first and foremost but in the back of my mind it was the knowledge that if life is so precarious then what am I doing wasting my time not being happy with myself? It was the first time I put any serious thought into weight loss surgery.
I won't lie to you; I used to think that people who did that were taking the "easy way out". Yes, I too was thinking like a complete asshole. I was buying into the hype and being a total hypocrite but making this decision is anything but easy. Honestly, it's scary but so is struggling with my weight and the possible complications for the rest of my life. For the first time I am thinking about a life long commitment to a healthier me rather than being social acceptable for the rest of the world. That is a remarkably large realization.
I am now 39 years old and I have decided that my path must take a new course. It's been nearly 30 years since my first diet and I can't do it again. I have an appointment with a bariatric surgeon next week and I going to explore my options. I am pretty sure I am going to get the gastric sleeve procedure. Here is a description: http://www.jerseybariatrics.com/gastric_sleeve/gastric_sleeve.htm
This is a big step for me and a big life style change. In order to be approved for this surgery there is a six month process with intense regulations that must be completed before being approved. I am taking the first step in this direction and it's intense. I don't take any of this lightly and am not sure what this adventure will bring but I know there is more to me than being fat.
I would like to blog about this journey. Am I being self-indulgent? Yep. I am not asking anyone to feel obligated to participate in this so if you see my post feel free to go on by but if you are willing to hang on for the ride I will be as honest about it as I can.
Love,
b
No big shock here but...I am fat. I know, I know! Big shocker there. And not just pleasantly plump or anything cute like that. I am fat and much to my dismay now morbidly obese. I have been struggling with my weight since I was ten years old. I was petite until the summer before fourth grade when I began puberty and gained weight over the summer, then add getting my first pair of glasses and the target on my head was instantaneous. I remember fourth grade as one of the worst years of my life. Up until then I sort of blended into the back ground and had my share of friends. I was content with being myself. Even as I write this post I feel the churning in my stomach that I started to live with for many years. I was teased, bullied and generally treated like shit. I had never felt so unsure of myself and it was shocking.
I went on my first diet that following summer losing 20 lbs before entering the fifth grade. I felt better about myself but at the same time I was surprised at how my weight became about everyone else. The comments and back handed compliments were confusing and left me feeling even more insecure. So wait, if I lose weight I am tolerable but the more I weigh the less value I have? From that time on I have been struggling and obsessing about my weight.
Every few years I would diet for months and lose a significant amount of weight. Let's see there was the time in tenth grade because I was interested in this guy that pretty much told me that I would be perfect for him if I were a size 4. Um, excuse me, a fucking size 4! Are you kidding me? But I wanted his approval and my self esteem depended on it. To make matters worse he was emotionally abusive and even physically rough at times but that didn't stop my need for him to be attracted to me. I know I can't be mad at someone for not being attracted to me but the manipulation I tolerated was unforgivable, unforgivable of myself.
The behavior continued into college and then into my twenties as I followed the same path of weight loss, desire to be loved and then the shame when the weight slowly came back. Was I ever going to get this right?
In my mid twenties I really took the bull by the horns and changed my life significantly. I quit my 6 year smoking habit, caffeine and sugar. As of today I can say that I rarely consume caffeine and haven't smoked one ciggy in 15 years. I walked twice a day religiously. It was easy because I was single, answered only to myself and how I spent my time and how much or little I ate. My weight loss during the next couple of years was significant and liberating. For the first time in my adult life I saw how the other half lived. I equate it to the Eddie Murphy sketch on SNL "White Like Me" when he experimented with being a white man and noticed how differently white people were treated such as a cocktail party on the bus, given free money at the bank, etc. If you haven't checked this out I highly recommend it. It's hilarious and exemplifies my reaction to my new "status" as a thinner person. Here's the link: http://www.hulu.com/watch/10356/saturday-night-live-white-like-me
I couldn't believe how different it was. People smiled at me, gave me free stuff, held the door open (I can't tell you have how many doors I have had closed on me) and spoke to me freely and happily. I acknowledge that some of that was my new sense of happiness in myself and that definitely makes a big difference in how others relate to you. I am not blaming the world at large here but you cannot deny that the prejudice about weight is alive and well in America.
I enjoyed my time as the "thin me" for a couple of years but then the weight came back on. I met my husband when I was thinner and spent years terrified that he would leave me because I was getting fatter and fatter. I was on the Weight Watchers program several times finding short lived success and getting more and more frustrated and depressed with every subsequent weight gain.
I then tried to be happy with how I was. I mean don't get me wrong I have MANY blessings and regardless of my weight I am thankful for them every single day but it doesn't change how I feel about myself. I feel so much shame about these failures and it becomes an emotional weight gain as well. I have always admired people that love themselves exactly as they are. I worked at that as well but it didn't work. I come away feeling like I am not really living my truth. Is it the whole "skinny person in a fat person's body" thing? Hmm...is it?
Yeah, no. It is so much more than that and anyone with an addiction problem will tell you the same thing. It's the emotional component that makes addiction so well...addicting. I don't eat just to eat. I often eat to feel. There's a rush involved in the "high" that is as addictive as coke or booze. Of course, our society doesn't view weight issues as addictions but rather as laziness and lack of self control. Perhaps I do lack self control but tell me, don't we all in some aspect of our lives? Why are some addictions "acceptable" and tolerated as a "disease" but eating addiction is about "putting the fork down and going outside for a run when you're hungry". Hmm...fuck you and your simplistic analysis. Do you walk up to an alcoholic and say, "just put the drink down and go for run around the block"? Didn't think so.
In the past few years I have been shocked at how hating fat people has become so prevalent. It's as though obesity is the last socially acceptable prejudice allowed in our country. A few months back there was this whole controversy over a CBS showed entitled "Mike and Molly". A blogger wrote an article essentially stating that it was unacceptable to produce a show that was based on two overweight people falling in love. This article was, in my opinion, stupid and careless but it was the readers' comments that floored me. Some people were saying that fat people are disgusting and that they can't even look at them without wanting to throw up, etc. you get the point. Fortunately A LOT of people reacted by telling her to stuff it so she retracted her statement...sort of. Here is the article (and retraction): http://www.marieclaire.com/sex-love/dating-blog/overweight-couples-on-television
NOTE: Did you see the part where she bestows her advice about how to eat fruits and vegetables and exercise more? She's such a peach...a peach that I would like to fucking stomp into the ground but that's just me.
So, am I really some beast that is costing the country millions of dollars? No, I am pretty sure Wall Street took care of that but it certainly doesn't stop me from feeling like I am some sort of villain just for not being aesthetically pleasing.
As some of you know I had a really intense health scare last summer that had NOTHING to do with my weight. I developed blood clots that went to my lungs as a result of a medication I was taking at the time. It was one of the scariest moments of my life especially because I was perilously close to losing it. That experience brought me up short. I had never faced my mortality so succinctly before and it was a defining moment. I started to think about what matters to me and of course the love and well being of my family was first and foremost but in the back of my mind it was the knowledge that if life is so precarious then what am I doing wasting my time not being happy with myself? It was the first time I put any serious thought into weight loss surgery.
I won't lie to you; I used to think that people who did that were taking the "easy way out". Yes, I too was thinking like a complete asshole. I was buying into the hype and being a total hypocrite but making this decision is anything but easy. Honestly, it's scary but so is struggling with my weight and the possible complications for the rest of my life. For the first time I am thinking about a life long commitment to a healthier me rather than being social acceptable for the rest of the world. That is a remarkably large realization.
I am now 39 years old and I have decided that my path must take a new course. It's been nearly 30 years since my first diet and I can't do it again. I have an appointment with a bariatric surgeon next week and I going to explore my options. I am pretty sure I am going to get the gastric sleeve procedure. Here is a description: http://www.jerseybariatrics.com/gastric_sleeve/gastric_sleeve.htm
This is a big step for me and a big life style change. In order to be approved for this surgery there is a six month process with intense regulations that must be completed before being approved. I am taking the first step in this direction and it's intense. I don't take any of this lightly and am not sure what this adventure will bring but I know there is more to me than being fat.
I would like to blog about this journey. Am I being self-indulgent? Yep. I am not asking anyone to feel obligated to participate in this so if you see my post feel free to go on by but if you are willing to hang on for the ride I will be as honest about it as I can.
Love,
b
Saturday, July 3, 2010
SBNR - it's a doozy.
Hey, remember me? The eager beaver blogger who dropped off the face of the earth for months? I don’t even have a good excuse to explain my disappearance. I mean, life is happening, so that counts for some of it but sometimes when I am “doing my do” I lack the ability to articulate my experience. And then I got a much needed (and appreciated) nudge from my friend, Kate and a post is born.
So, what I want to share is a really touchy subject. I tend to avoid discussing my religious vs. spiritual internal debate because the last thing I want to do is alienate anyone but I am all about living my life as truthfully as possible.
The truth, MY truth…I will start here because it is the fundamental core of what defines how I view the world and my place in it.
I was raised in a family that was very active in the Methodist Church. You could say it’s the “family business”. I participated heavily in many activities such as Sunday school, choir and Youth Group. I met one of my closest friends there, learned how to be a leader and fed my love of music. It was a large part of how I defined myself for a really long time. It was a safe place filled with people that I love and a clear defining element in my life. I was content until my crisis of faith came along. I know, how dramatic, right? But to be fair, I was fourteen and was forced to grow up quickly after my brother was seriously injured in an accident. It flipped my life around and I realized that NOTHING made sense to me. All of the After School Special clichés applied: scared, fearful and of course, angry with God and life in general. I couldn’t wrap my brain around how this experience could jive with what I had believed so I went numb for a long time and just showed up in body but no longer in mind or spirit. I wanted to make my peace but I couldn’t help deconstructing all that I had learned and believed. It bears knowing that in all of this I never stopped believing in a connection to God or Goddess or Spirit. I have always known that there is something out there that is bigger than me yet I couldn’t reconcile how God was all powerful and all knowing and faultless when there are murderers, rapists , predators and terrorists destroying the precious lives that God created. It was an internal struggle that lasted for many years.
Since I felt isolated in this debate I didn’t really worry too much about it until my girls came along and the questions started. They occasionally attend church with my parents and in-laws and are little sponges. They would come home with so many questions about what they had learned and I found myself put on the spot. I don’t purposefully keep them from religion but I want them to have an open mind and learn that people believe in different things and it’s ok. That sounded right but I couldn’t figure out how that made sense in my life. How was I going to explain to my kids what it meant to me? I am moral person. I try not to judge. I don’t hate people based on their lifestyle or religious backgrounds that differ from mine. I also do not believe for one red hot second that God does either. That left me with the question: who is God and how do we relate to each other? Is it all about some esoteric nebulous belief or is there something more tangible that I can intimately relate to? Could it be that God is in each of us? Was God....(gulp) in me? And for the first time in many years I finally got the answer I was looking for. The answer was "yupperdoodles, babycakes". I was looking for God everywhere else but within myself.
Ok, so now what? How do I find God in myself? This is how I see it: each of us is blessed with a conscience. We all know right from wrong because we feel it in our “gut”, so to speak. Let’s call it our inner-voice for lack of a better word choice. If you sit still, take a deep breath and listen, your inner-voice will respond. We are not socialized to listen to this because so much of our culture is counter-intuitive. We don’t trust our instincts because we don’t listen to ourselves. But here’s the kicker….that is God in us. Our intuition, the clearest connection to self, is our truth. Everyone one of us is blessed with truth, whatever that may be. By acknowledging and living in that truth we are honoring ourselves and God. I am not saying that this is a simple feat because it's not but it is who we are in our simplest form. It was the first time that I was able to stop feeling guilty for no longer being a religious person and began to life my life clearly as a spiritual person. It felt like coming home.
I recently read an article about the possible dangers of the “trendy phrase” spiritual but not religious a.k.a. SBNR. First of all how happy am I to know that there are people like me that resonate with this definition? Did you know there is a Wikipedia page and a book written by Robert C. Fuller about the subject? The article broaches the argument of whether SBNR’s are spiritually complacent or individuals that take responsibility for his/her relationship with God. Personally, I found the article bent to the “pro religion” team but it is interesting none the less. **check it out below.
So this begs the question: am I just being spiritually lazy? Is religion just “too hard”? If following a belief system that doesn’t represent who I am and makes me feel like a hypocrite, then yes, it’s too hard because I am not living truthfully. I do not judge someone that chooses a religious path if that is his/her truth but please do not assume that religion is harder. Having been a church goer I can say, from personal experience, that it is more challenging but fulfilling for me to live my life as a constant spiritual experience seeing God in everyone I meet. My every thought and action contributes to a larger consciousness rather than a secular experience. There is a sacredness that motivates me to be the best human I can and to show my girls how to find God and truth in themselves. It also makes me a happier person and I trust that happiness if one of God’s gifts.
Well, that’s my journey, struggle, enlightenment – however you chose to define it. Take it, leave it. Tell me (as nicely as possible) to cram it where the sun don’t shine. I appreciate your taking the time to read it and I hope it provokes some thought. How ever you live your life please know that I hope it brings you peace. If it doesn’t, know your truth is never too far away. It’s your blessing so enjoy it.
Namaste
** Here is the article so you can decide for yourself.
http://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/personal/06/03/spiritual.but.not.religious/index.html&sa=U&ei=nFUvTNqgGYW8lQfXio2xCQ&ved=0CBQQFjAA&usg=AFQjCNE9LRxFLMwr-P85_U_gtWzaEApwew
So, what I want to share is a really touchy subject. I tend to avoid discussing my religious vs. spiritual internal debate because the last thing I want to do is alienate anyone but I am all about living my life as truthfully as possible.
The truth, MY truth…I will start here because it is the fundamental core of what defines how I view the world and my place in it.
I was raised in a family that was very active in the Methodist Church. You could say it’s the “family business”. I participated heavily in many activities such as Sunday school, choir and Youth Group. I met one of my closest friends there, learned how to be a leader and fed my love of music. It was a large part of how I defined myself for a really long time. It was a safe place filled with people that I love and a clear defining element in my life. I was content until my crisis of faith came along. I know, how dramatic, right? But to be fair, I was fourteen and was forced to grow up quickly after my brother was seriously injured in an accident. It flipped my life around and I realized that NOTHING made sense to me. All of the After School Special clichés applied: scared, fearful and of course, angry with God and life in general. I couldn’t wrap my brain around how this experience could jive with what I had believed so I went numb for a long time and just showed up in body but no longer in mind or spirit. I wanted to make my peace but I couldn’t help deconstructing all that I had learned and believed. It bears knowing that in all of this I never stopped believing in a connection to God or Goddess or Spirit. I have always known that there is something out there that is bigger than me yet I couldn’t reconcile how God was all powerful and all knowing and faultless when there are murderers, rapists , predators and terrorists destroying the precious lives that God created. It was an internal struggle that lasted for many years.
Since I felt isolated in this debate I didn’t really worry too much about it until my girls came along and the questions started. They occasionally attend church with my parents and in-laws and are little sponges. They would come home with so many questions about what they had learned and I found myself put on the spot. I don’t purposefully keep them from religion but I want them to have an open mind and learn that people believe in different things and it’s ok. That sounded right but I couldn’t figure out how that made sense in my life. How was I going to explain to my kids what it meant to me? I am moral person. I try not to judge. I don’t hate people based on their lifestyle or religious backgrounds that differ from mine. I also do not believe for one red hot second that God does either. That left me with the question: who is God and how do we relate to each other? Is it all about some esoteric nebulous belief or is there something more tangible that I can intimately relate to? Could it be that God is in each of us? Was God....(gulp) in me? And for the first time in many years I finally got the answer I was looking for. The answer was "yupperdoodles, babycakes". I was looking for God everywhere else but within myself.
Ok, so now what? How do I find God in myself? This is how I see it: each of us is blessed with a conscience. We all know right from wrong because we feel it in our “gut”, so to speak. Let’s call it our inner-voice for lack of a better word choice. If you sit still, take a deep breath and listen, your inner-voice will respond. We are not socialized to listen to this because so much of our culture is counter-intuitive. We don’t trust our instincts because we don’t listen to ourselves. But here’s the kicker….that is God in us. Our intuition, the clearest connection to self, is our truth. Everyone one of us is blessed with truth, whatever that may be. By acknowledging and living in that truth we are honoring ourselves and God. I am not saying that this is a simple feat because it's not but it is who we are in our simplest form. It was the first time that I was able to stop feeling guilty for no longer being a religious person and began to life my life clearly as a spiritual person. It felt like coming home.
I recently read an article about the possible dangers of the “trendy phrase” spiritual but not religious a.k.a. SBNR. First of all how happy am I to know that there are people like me that resonate with this definition? Did you know there is a Wikipedia page and a book written by Robert C. Fuller about the subject? The article broaches the argument of whether SBNR’s are spiritually complacent or individuals that take responsibility for his/her relationship with God. Personally, I found the article bent to the “pro religion” team but it is interesting none the less. **check it out below.
So this begs the question: am I just being spiritually lazy? Is religion just “too hard”? If following a belief system that doesn’t represent who I am and makes me feel like a hypocrite, then yes, it’s too hard because I am not living truthfully. I do not judge someone that chooses a religious path if that is his/her truth but please do not assume that religion is harder. Having been a church goer I can say, from personal experience, that it is more challenging but fulfilling for me to live my life as a constant spiritual experience seeing God in everyone I meet. My every thought and action contributes to a larger consciousness rather than a secular experience. There is a sacredness that motivates me to be the best human I can and to show my girls how to find God and truth in themselves. It also makes me a happier person and I trust that happiness if one of God’s gifts.
Well, that’s my journey, struggle, enlightenment – however you chose to define it. Take it, leave it. Tell me (as nicely as possible) to cram it where the sun don’t shine. I appreciate your taking the time to read it and I hope it provokes some thought. How ever you live your life please know that I hope it brings you peace. If it doesn’t, know your truth is never too far away. It’s your blessing so enjoy it.
Namaste
** Here is the article so you can decide for yourself.
http://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/personal/06/03/spiritual.but.not.religious/index.html&sa=U&ei=nFUvTNqgGYW8lQfXio2xCQ&ved=0CBQQFjAA&usg=AFQjCNE9LRxFLMwr-P85_U_gtWzaEApwew
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Sisterly Love
I am one lucky woman. I have been blessed with two of the sweetest girls in the world. Am I being biased? Of course I am! That is my right as their adoring mom. Are my girls perfect? Nope, which is a relief because then what would they need me for? But if there is one thing I have learned in my nearly six years of motherhood is that my kids are my teachers and if I don’t learn anything from them then I am not paying attention.
Almost every evening we have our bedtime ritual. It goes like this: pj’s, teeth, stories, tickle monster, bed. I am responsible for stories. It’s a nice time to end the day and share the love of reading. Each girl picks a book and we snuggle on “the big couch” to enjoy. Last night, my oldest, Marley, picked one of my favorites. It’s a book about two sisters that celebrate their likeness, differences and love for each other. I get misty when I read this book because I did not grow up with a sister. I have an older brother whom I love and adore and a best friend who is my sister from another mister, but I didn’t have that sisterly bond growing up so it has always fascinated me. I marvel at their relationship and how close they are. They are empathetic and compassionate and yes, sometimes mean to each other, but they always make their way back to the friendship.
When I finished reading, my youngest, Alexa, who is nearly four, turns to Marley, nearly six, and says, “I love you”. To which Marley smiles and says, “I love you, too.” Dude! Can I get a Kleenex!? I could not have been more proud to be their mom in that moment or humbled to witness this special moment. When Marley started Kindergarten this year I was concerned about how the separation would affect them. They both cried when they said goodbye and Marley told me, tearfully, that she wished they were twins so they could go to school together. Hearing that felt like a knife in my gut and all I could say in that moment was that I was sorry, too. Now, a few months into the school year they have both thrived from a little independence and always reconnect at the end of each day.
My wish for my little princesses is that they will always have one another to remind them of who they are, where they come from and that no matter what, they are never alone. I know adolescence is in the not too distant future so this foundation will most likely be rocked but sometimes a shakeup is the best reminder of what you really have. So what did I learn from my girls? I learned what it means to be a good sister and friend and that I am really lucky to enjoy watching their relationship flourish.
So, go tell your sister how much you love her…and that goes for your sisters of the heart, too. And now I will take this moment to tell all of you sisters of my heart that I love you and that I am blessed by your presence in my life!
Almost every evening we have our bedtime ritual. It goes like this: pj’s, teeth, stories, tickle monster, bed. I am responsible for stories. It’s a nice time to end the day and share the love of reading. Each girl picks a book and we snuggle on “the big couch” to enjoy. Last night, my oldest, Marley, picked one of my favorites. It’s a book about two sisters that celebrate their likeness, differences and love for each other. I get misty when I read this book because I did not grow up with a sister. I have an older brother whom I love and adore and a best friend who is my sister from another mister, but I didn’t have that sisterly bond growing up so it has always fascinated me. I marvel at their relationship and how close they are. They are empathetic and compassionate and yes, sometimes mean to each other, but they always make their way back to the friendship.
When I finished reading, my youngest, Alexa, who is nearly four, turns to Marley, nearly six, and says, “I love you”. To which Marley smiles and says, “I love you, too.” Dude! Can I get a Kleenex!? I could not have been more proud to be their mom in that moment or humbled to witness this special moment. When Marley started Kindergarten this year I was concerned about how the separation would affect them. They both cried when they said goodbye and Marley told me, tearfully, that she wished they were twins so they could go to school together. Hearing that felt like a knife in my gut and all I could say in that moment was that I was sorry, too. Now, a few months into the school year they have both thrived from a little independence and always reconnect at the end of each day.
My wish for my little princesses is that they will always have one another to remind them of who they are, where they come from and that no matter what, they are never alone. I know adolescence is in the not too distant future so this foundation will most likely be rocked but sometimes a shakeup is the best reminder of what you really have. So what did I learn from my girls? I learned what it means to be a good sister and friend and that I am really lucky to enjoy watching their relationship flourish.
So, go tell your sister how much you love her…and that goes for your sisters of the heart, too. And now I will take this moment to tell all of you sisters of my heart that I love you and that I am blessed by your presence in my life!
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