loopty loop

i've felt distinctly one way the last couple days, as i approach tomorrow, the day the liquids start (sounds biblical, doesn't it?) i feel like i'm on the slow, steady ride up a rollercoaster...i sort of know what's going to happen when i get to the top, but also have no idea. any doubts and fears i have are in vain now, because it's too late to change course. of course if i really changed my mind i could, but there's not a chance in hell that's happening. i know what i need to do, and i'm doing it. in that way, it reminds me of a feeling i've had before...

in the days leading up to when i quit smoking four and a half years ago, i had almost the exact same feelings i have right now - excited, nervous, in a little bit of disbelief, and totally unclear on how i was about to do what i was about to do. but in this case too, although i don't know exactly how i'm going to do it, i know i'm going to, with a great, strong, proud certainty. i won't know exactly how until i get there, and i'm done trying to scramble for ways to fully embrace and immerse myself in what is about to be - because i've accepted that where i stand today, i haven't a chance of doing that. i'll only know once i get there, so off i go.

a reminder to my future self

if at some point i'm feeling depressed about not having food to use the way i always have, i am hoping i can remember how trapped i often felt by my desire to eat. of course i feel trapped by my size and my limitations, the judgements of others and the hopelessness i've sometimes felt, but i've also felt trapped by the desire itself. it's something that's almost always there, and especially recently, it's there even when i don't want it to be, when i'm not taking pleasure in it anymore. where are i am with this disorder at this moment in time feels the way it must feel to be on a thrill ride and decide you want to get off before it goes upside down. it's been so many years since i've been on a ride like that - so many years since i could fit in an amusement park ride, exactly 4 years since i've even tried.

there are times these days, especially leading up to the surgery, that i'm tired and i want to go to bed early, but then when would i eat the thing i've been looking forward to? or on a weekend day, i want to take a nap and lounge around without stress about the time, but i always find myself aware of it because i want to make sure i have enough time to have dinner -- would never want to miss a meal! -- and then stay awake digesting so my reflux doesn't act up when i recline to go to bed.

i look forward to wednesday when i start on liquids, and to every day after that when i am not a slave to food. i'm not fooling myself in thinking that i will always welcome this absence. but where i stand at the moment, i can't wait to be free of feeling compelled to eat, whether i'm hungry or not sometimes, and have a schedule and a flow of time that has nothing to do with it. i want to remember the feeling of being weighed down when i want to feel light, and remember that it is a gift i'm being given to move towards always feeling that lightness of being.

i'm also not fooling myself in thinking that the surgery is a magic bullet in any way. all the factors that made my relationship with food a miswired, toxic one will still be with me, and i will need to find new ways of coping with feelings i don't want. i know all this, and the work i've done over the last couple of years has helped me form a foundation on which to build a healthier path. but i also think it's one of those things where the physical change of the surgery is the first chapter - the inability to use the food in that way has to come first. if i were able to impose that behavior change on myself to create long-lasting change, i would have done it already, i know that for sure.

when i no longer have the frenemy that food has been, i will be forced to cope in other ways, and my commitment and dedication to understanding and change, my commitment to life really, will help me process it and make it real. make it who i am.

i have to think all this is true. because it makes sense, and because what's the alternative?

just do it

the support group tonight was a good, long one. the post-op people had some great stuff to say, and i want to make sure i remember it all. of course i took notes on all the pre-op instructions and the tips they had, but the overarching messages of hope and strength are what i really need to remember and carry with me.

julie, the unbelievably successful woman who has lost 260 lbs since her surgery about two and a half years ago really stressed how she follows all the rules. she said she's does everything to the letter and that she has a four bite rule. the first bite is to see if its good, and worth it. the second bite is to make sure it's good. the third bite is to really savor and enjoy it, and the fourth is the last, i guess to say goodbye. she said she almost never makes it to the second bite.

there was another woman there who went skydiving with her daughter after having the bypass just over a year ago. she said this to all the pre-op people: whatever you're wrestling with, whichever procedure you're considering, just do it. do it.

i'm doing it.

end of the line

i'm struggling - i feel like i can't stop eating. and i know it's related to the fact that in two weeks, i can't eat anymore (all liquids for 3 weeks pre and 4 weeks post surgery) and then obviously everything will be different. i'm so excited about the surgery and i know its going to be great but i guess i'm also sort of mourning the loss of my friend.

every time i have a craving, i tell myself "well, this will probably be the last time i can have this" and so i give myself permission. on one hand, i feel so guilty about it because this is the worst time to be regressing and makes me feel like i'm not ready for this change. but on the other hand, i feel like it's understandable and i don't want to fight myself on it too hard because i don't want to enter the liquid phase feeling deprived.

i know i need to stop, i keep on telling myself that but then i do it all over again. i just feel depressed and weak when i want to feel excited and strong.

on deciding

for the longest time, i ignored what every doctor said to me...that the chances of me losing the weight i'd need to, and maintaining that loss for life were slim to none...that statistically speaking the odds were against me...that i really ought to consider weight loss surgery while i was still healthy.

part of it was pride - i didn't want help, i felt that i could do it on my own. i had already lost 130 pounds on weight watchers once and i could do it again. i knew how to do it. i didn't want an easy way out. i didn't want to have to change everything about my life. i wanted to be normal. as i continued to struggle though, every day, my concept of normal was being tested - put best by my longtime doctor who was pushing the idea of surgery, my current weight and lifestyle "isn't normal either."

then one day in february of this year, i sat in a hair salon with my mother who saw every ounce of depression and exhaustion and shame on my face. she told me that she knew how hard i'd been working at this, and that it was really time to have some return on that investment, that i deserved it, and she encouraged me to consider the surgery again. although the next few weeks of information sessions and appointments and reading and talking were key, i think i had truly made the decision in that very moment.
the first crucial thing that happened was that i quickly realized that this was no easy way out - as if there could be such a thing with something like a lifelong struggle with weight. i came to understand that it would take work and a lot of it. it would take patience and learning and growth, the same way a "normal" weight loss would, and in some ways, even more so. i realized that i would still be able to take ownership over my weight loss, and feel proud of it and responsible for it - after all, it would be my decision to have the surgery, my decision to follow the rules and change my life, my decision to live and stay healthy.

around the same time, i did a lot of reading on binge eating and accepted that it's a disorder i have, and have had for as long as i can remember. although carrie, my therapist, had always talked about it this way, i think i disassociated when i heard the word "disorder" and maybe just wasn't able to accept it until this point in time. and when i did, when i accepted that not everything about my weight was my fault, the most incredible thing happened...the shame was gone. all these years, although i've been strong and confident in many ways, and have always loved myself and been proud of who i am, i've also carried such shame about my weight and what it says about me - to the world, to my friends and family, to myself; such shame about being such a perfectionist and an achiever in so many ways, and failing so miserably at this, though it was what i wanted more than anything in the world. and in the moment i understood and believed that there were factors out of my control, the shame went away, and its absnce made me more capable of taking help, and of claiming power over my disorder. if i wasn't ashamed anymore of the problem, nothing was stopping me from moving towards a solution.

in our talks about it in the early days of the plan, mitchell told me what a brave choice he thought it was...and that made a tremendous impact on the way i felt about it. being able to frame it as something brave and strong made me feel so good, and made me excited about the choice. he even felt inspired by me enough to start his own workout regimen and get healthy, and he now looks incredible, feels like a different person and is in a totally healthy weight range for his height. amazing.

as i got educated, i also learned that many of the people who are candidates for surgery have my background - many of them have lost a ton of weight at some point and gained it back, and then some. i realized that one of the things that made me feel like i didn't need the surgery was actually a sign that i did - a large, unmaintained weight loss is just part of the profile. well-meaning friends had always stressed how i had done it before and how i shouldn't deny myself credit for that accomplishment, but i have always felt that the true accomplishment of weight loss is keeping it off.

when i ultimately decided that i knew this was for me was when i realized that so much of my pride about doing it on my own was coming from the fact that i always need to feel like the best at everything i do, and accepting help in this way was to me, a failure. but i started to realize that that need of mine - to excel, to be number one, to be perfect - was an overcompensation for my feelings about my weight. it was like i was already using up the one flaw i was allowed, so i had to make up for it and be amazing every second of every day.

but when i began to think of the profound ways in which my life could change - really change, not just if-i-lose-the-weight-one-day change, but for real - i had a true moment of realization - i don't need to be the one in a million person who beats the odds and loses more than half my weight without surgery. i don't need that. what i do need to be is healthy and happy and strong. i need to have a family, and be healthy and able to raise children and be around for them when they're my age and older. i don't need to be an overachiever in this way - i can just be myself, someone who struggles, who has struggled for a very long time and wants to stop struggling so hard.

summer nights

it's hard to explain exactly how i felt last night...it was fajita night...which means tequila night and my whole family was happy and celebrating. we were on vacation and happy to all be together..music playing, laughter flowing and the tastiest of foods on the grill. but i was depressed, and alone.

in talking about it with molly and mitchell at different points of the night, i think i established that it mainly stems from not knowing who i am in the types of social situations i find myself in. before my throat surgery (removal of a pre-cancerous legion on one of my vocal folds) i used to dominate group situations with my voice, my humor, my stories. i also used to like drinking with the rest of my family, sometimes too much, i'll admit. but when i started having to change the way i use my voice, coupled with my continous attempts to lose weight, drinking became something that just worked against me, rather than for me.

now as i think about what lies ahead for me, i wonder after my surgery how i will be, who i will be, in these situations. not drinking, hardly eating, talking carefully...seems lonely and sad and unsure.

a sensible dinner

i feel like i'm never in the mood for the things i'm supposed to eat. i manage to enjoy the greek yogurt and kashi in the morning, but i am never, and i mean never, in the mood for the shake at lunch. and at dinner, 4 ounces of protein and lots of vegetables feel like work. and i guess it is work, and maybe it's supposed to be. so i end up with something that's sort of like that, but probably not as strict as it should be.

i feel like it's a rebellion in my mind...everything seems like a good idea when i buy it - salad ingredients, chicken, turkey, fresh fruit...and then i roll my eyes at the thought of it.

so what do i want to be eating? i don't even know. not junk. i'm not craving bad-for-me things, i'm just so unenticed by the things i should be eating, that i end up losing focus and making choices that i'd classify as "okay." that's why i'm thinking in some ways it might be best to just move toward the all-liquid phase. could be easier...less thought, less contemplation, less back and forth. i'm just tired of the back and forth.

image from http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/

thinking thin

i want to buy one of each for some thin day in the future.

top image from halston heritage, bottom image from tory burch

80 percent

this is not a pizza. it's also not a pie. it is a visual representation of something my nutritionist and i talked about last night.

in thinking about my upcoming trip to paris, we talked about different approaches to eating and food while i'm there. i know that without a doubt, i do not want to overeat. i want to use weight watchers points as a gauge for my choices, as i've been doing, because i need that kind of barometer. i refuse to look at this trip as being about caloric indulgence - it's coming at too crucial a moment in my life to regress that way. in order to truly enjoy myself, i know i need to take good care of myself on this trip and eat right so i can feel my best, body and soul.

adrienne, my nutritionist, was concerned that i not "diet" while in paris for only five days and make sure to try new things and enjoy them. she's not of the opinion, like some health nuts are, that food is fuel, and only fuel. she believes that food serves a purpose and should make sense, but should also be enjoyed. i think i agree.

so we went deeper into a discussion on this "80 percent" idea that she's mentioned before...that thin people who are thin and stay thin - whether through bypass or other means - employ this 80% mentality, or whatever their own version of it is. simply put, it's that the vast majority of the time, you make good food choices, not wasting calories in mundane situations or on everyday foods. but then once in a while, you have the 20 percent, which are standalone occassions - a holiday, a wedding, a vacation -where you allow yourself to try things, to indulge (within very reasonable reason), and you're okay because of what you do the vast majority of the time.

although what she's saying makes total sense to me -- that's 100% sense, not just 80% -- it worries me too. i worry that i can't trust myself - that my disordered way of thinking about food will convince my otherwise smart, level-headed self that 20% is a much bigger piece of the pie (graph) than it is. but then, maybe that's part of the evolution i need to go through, because deep down, i think i know what 20% is.

but because adrienne knew that looking at paris as five days of 20% was too much for me, she suggested the most brilliant thing...break down paris itself into 80% and 20%...which means that for breakfast, i'll have my cereal/yogurt combo, and for lunch, i'll eat very light so that i can taste a croissant and a macaron, and have a special french dinner.

i think this concept is going to be revolutionary for me (and yes, i recognize weight watchers has it's own form of it in flex points, but this just resonates). i think it has the potential to translate in my real, stateside life when i'm at target buying toilet paper and a piece of chocolate feels appealling...does that moment, charmin in hand, feel like a 20% moment, or would i rather save it for a few bites of dessert at a wedding that weekend?

i realize this isn't a perfect way of looking at it, and i'm cautious of the fact that it still in some way uses food as a means of celebration, but i do appreciate it for its natural fit in the real world and in the real life of a healthy person...one i hope to be one day in the not too distant future.

photo from the mirror uk

fall from grace

i fell on the bus this morning. it was a silly kind of thing, something that could have happened to anyone. i've seen it happen to anyone. it's a rainy, humid morning and i guess the wet soles of my new fit flops (which i'm in the process of breaking in) combined with the slick floors of the bus did me in. i tried to grab the pole when i felt myself slipping but i couldn't save myself and down i went.

it didn't hurt at all, actually. i don't know if it was all my fellow commuters trying to cushion the blow or just the lucky way i fell, but i was in no physical pain. all i could think about as i went down was how huge i must have looked and what a scene this was going to be. it's probably the one time i wished new yorkers weren't so nice and ready to jump in to help. as everyone tried to help me up and make sure i was okay, all i wanted was to be invisible and for them to stop helping me, since really, they couldn't help me. i had to hoist myself up - on the wet floor, with wet hands, in my wet shoes...

there are few things worse than feeling fully exposed and embarassed, and having to take further actions that create more of those feelings...as in, i had to get myself up. with all those people watching. it wasn't graceful.

luckily, i'm in no physical pain but my heart hurts a little, the way it did the other day when a teenage girl on the street yelled "you're fat, lose some weight." sounds horrible, right? but i didn't think things like that bothered me until i started sharing them with other people as a part of this new part of my journey (i hate that word when it comes to this, but it really is pretty fitting). it's like if no one else knows about these little injuries to my soul, maybe they don't exist. but they do.