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A blog by wendytip

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Wooooooo-hooooooo onederland!

AT LAST! I weighed in last week at a much anticipated 198! That puts me at a loss of 73 and a half pounds gone! It seems like only yesterday that I was reading other peoples' posts about getting to Onederland, and longing for the day! I can't tell you how great this is! For all you you bandsters that aren't there yet, hang it there; you'll be there before you know it! P.S I you wanna, you can check out my video blogs on youtube; That Crazy Fat Chick.

July 29, 2009

12

WOOOOOO-HOOOOOO! My first fill and 16 pounds gone!

I went for my first fill today, and bounded onto the scales. I was ready! I took my shoes off and Tiffany (my favorite nurse, EVER,) said, "Socks too." I was like, "Honey, if I could get by with it, I'd be on the scales, BUCK NAKED! So, I was hoping for a 15 pound loss, but got 16! Elation! Bliss! Joy! I go in for my first fill and made the grave mistake of looking where my Dr. stuck the needle in. It didn't hurt, but I have a serious aversion to "looking" at needles or blood. So, I look away; quickly, and just when I think I won't puke and/or pass out, my Dr. says, "I need you to sit up and come over here to the x-ray machine. OMG, I can kind of see the needle poking out of my port. I look away; quickly...but not quickly enough. I'm standing there drinking that stuff, and just when I'm hoping that I won't puke and/or pass out, there's the needle, on the x-ray screen! I'm hanging in there, and looking at the ceiling, and finally I say, "Is it okay if I sit down?" My Doctor tells me that I can sit because we're through, and just when I think that maybe I won't puke and/or pass out, he comes over and just pops that needle out! Jeez! But, after some apple juice I was good to go. Nothing could get me down after that; not even learning that I have to be on liquids until tomorrow and I don't get to have any spaghetti tonight. Oh well, no worries. I'm just glad to be on this journey!

January 21, 2009

7

WOOOO-HOOOOO, aka; the story of the gray jeans.

O.K, so I'm one week out and I have to go for my one week check up thingy. So, I get up this morning and I think, "Hey, why don't I try on "those" jeans. But first, the back story on "those jeans." I went to spend a few days w/my mom in Atlanta, just before Christmas. This was a few days before my banding, and I wanted to get some last minute Christmas shopping done. Well, we get to the Mall of Georgia and the jeans I have one have a little worn place on my inner thigh, and my fat is smushing through the hole and rubbing a raw place on me. I figure my best course of action is to buy a clearance pair of jeans and change. I look around and finally find a pair of grey Liz Claiborne jeans for ten bucks. They're a size 22 which I figure may be a bit big, but I don't care; I can beat that price. So, I buy them and go to the dressing room to change, and guess what? That's right...they're too small! God, I couldn't believe it! I was determined to get them on. I pushed fat in. I sucked in. I pulled them up high on my hips and leaned forward. I kind of squatted down a few times hoping to loosen them up. I checked the tag to make sure I hadn't picked up an 18 by mistake. I hadn't. I tried some more. I would have lain down in the dressing room floor, but there wasn't enough room...plus I was afraid if I did get them zipped that I wouldn't be able to get back up. FINALLY…probably because I was sweating at this point, and maybe had burned just enough calories to get that zipper closed…I got them zipped. Yeah, I got them zipped and then I did this weird, stiff legged, John Wayne, walk out of the dressing room to get that shopping done. Well, as it turned out, the jeans were so tight (I not kidding, here,) that I though I was going to be sick, so I had to go and buy another pair of jeans. Okay…so this morning, I think I’ll try those jeans. I KNOW they won’t zip, but I’m sure they’ll be looser. Sooooooo, I put them on…and they ZIPPED! THEY ZIPPED! THEY ZIPPED, THEY ZIIIIPPPPPED! It wasn’t even like it was “iffy.” They just zipped right up! When I get to the Doctor’s office and weigh in, I find that I’ve lost 8 lbs! I gave a big WOOOOO-HOOOOO right there on the scales. 8lbs in one week…not too shabby.

December 29, 2008

3

Weigh in number 2!

Okay, here we go; it's time for official weigh in number 2! I'm hoping for 9lbs. off or more and that will put me at a total of 25 lbs. in just under 2 months. This time I'm looking away...far, far away when the doctor does my fill. I don't want my joyous occassion to be ruined by me passing out and hitting the floor!

February 17, 2009

2

Warning: Rant alert! Read at your own risk!

This is my story. I’ll try to keep it as short and to the point as I can, and I’m not going to tiptoe around this. I was banded December 22, 2009. That was the day I was reborn, and my life changed in ways I never dreamed possible. I believe that for many of us; the ones with “true” addictions, it takes “rolling around in the gutter” before we can begin to rise up. My darkest days were when I was in the throes of my eating disorder. I can honestly tell you that if it weren’t for my children I think I would have killed myself. I used find comfort in imagining how I would “do it.” I was just so tired. Everyday was the same as the last. I would wake up and know that I was going to lose that battle with food, yet again. Some days I’d lose it before breakfast. Some days it might take me a few weeks before I finally lost control. Once, I made it over a year and lost 71 pounds…only to gain every ounce, and then some back again. So, I just wanted it to end. I just wanted peace. And don’t get me wrong; I refer to my eating disorder in the past tense, but it’s not a “past tense” thing at all. I consider myself to be a “recovering addict.” An alcoholic doesn’t get to say, “I used to be an alcoholic,” and I don’t get to say, “I used to have an eating disorder.” I DO have an eating disorder. I have to remember that or it will sneak up on me again and kick my ass. So, I say all that to really say this; people have to come into their own truth in their own time, and sadly, some never come into their truth at all. If you would have told me that one day I would have to be careful and remember to eat, I would have told you that you were crazy. If you would have told me that someday I would no longer be obsessed by food, I would have never believed a word of it. If you would have told me that one day I would give up sugar, I would have told you that you had the wrong girl. If you would have told me that I would no logger be plagued by, “when, where, what and how much do I get to eat, I would have told you, “Not in this lifetime.” But all of those things, and so much more has happed. My life is so great that I can’t believe it’s mine. Food is simply not that big of a deal to me any more, and I am so blessed to have this wonderful “tool” to help me succeed I’m free! I’m happy and really; the weight loss, those 60 pounds; that is “secondary.” YES; secondary; the peace of mind; that’s the PRIMARY benefit. Dropping 60 pounds in 5 months; that is simply an added bonus. I’m free! I’m happy and I am so BLESSED! So, all of you people who whine about liquid diets, or not getting to eat a bunch of junk or having to work out, or gaining weight, or the pain and discomfort of eating too fast or not chewing enough, or stretch marks, or not being able to pig out like you used to on holidays or special occasions…ENOUGH ALREADY! SHUT UP! I GET SO SICK OF THE UNGRATEFUL ATTITUDES! IF the bad is not working for you, it’s probably for one or two of the following reasons: You need a fill. You’re drinking with meals. You’re not working out. You’re not eating “protein” first, or taking in enough protein.. You’re “grazing” or eating a bunch of height/empty caloric foods You’re not “listening to your body,” when it tells you that you’ve had enough to eat. You’re not using the band as a “tool;” You’re expecting the band to do everything for you. Being banded is not a lifestyle change; it’s a lifestyle OVERHAUL. So, in life; if you're not getting the results you want, either change what you're doing or live with.

June 1, 2009

8

Tomorrow!

I get my first fill tomorrow, and I'm so excited! I can't wait to get on those scales! I'm hoping to be 15 pounds down, but that may be a bit too ambitious since I'm not quite a month out. Whatever, though. I don't care. I've been very diligent, so I know I'll have a great loss. The weight will come off as it's supposed to come off; no biggie. I'm just sooooo enjoying this! I love seeing how much looser my clothes are every week, but more than anything I LOVE the fact that I'm not thinking about what to eat every single moment of every day!

January 19, 2009

3

The ugly truth of the matter...

Okay, so here is the ugly truth that I’ve been trying not to blog about. Yes, I am down 64 pounds, since being banded December 22, 2008… (I’m thinking about changing my birthday to that day, by the way…except then, I’d be one of those poor unfortunate souls who have their B.Ds close to Christmas…and that would suck) Anyway, I go into my doctor’s office for my 6 month weight in, and do keep in mind that I can almost pinpoint exactly how much I’m going to lose. So, I’m putting my weight loss at about 12 lbs. I get on the scales and I’m down from 213 to 207. “What the HELL?” I wanted to scream. Ohhhhh, I was pissed/upset. I thought about DEMANDING that the nurse weight me again because there had to be something wrong with those scales…all of a sudden. Of course, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with those same scales when I was losing more weight…hmmmm… Then I thought that I could strip out of my clothes real quick, and jump back on the scales for one more try. You know, like best 2 out of 3 or something. I mean, there had to be something wrong! Maybe that nurse forgot to “clear” the last person’s weight out…like a calculator. Or maybe…just maybe…I had not lost as much as I wanted because I had slacked off…No. That couldn’t be it; I so desperately wanted to believe. But deep down in my gut…which was not near as big as it was 6 months ago, I knew the truth, and here it is: Once an addict; always an addict. Sorry, but it’s true. And I know that Tiffany (My girl that does my “how’s it going with your band?” talk) thought I was being a greedy selfish pig…which I was. When I told her why I was upset, she told me how proud she was of me. Tiff: You’ve lost 64 pounds! That’s so awesome. Me: (pouting) I know, but I wanted to lose more. Tiff: No. You don’t need to lose anymore. You don’t need to lose it too fast. Me: I wanted to lose more. Tiff: But, you’re doing so great. The 6 month average is 50 pounds. You’re on the high end of that. Me: I wanted to lose more. Tiff: But, your fat percentage is down. Maybe your body is just trying to take a break. Me: I wanted to lose more…I wanted to lose MORE…I WANTED TO LOSE MORE!!! I didn’t go quite like that, but pretty close. The thing that bugged me was this: I gave up sugar when I got banded, but Good Humor makes these wonderful little sugar free ice cream pops, and well, you know me…a big ole’ food addict, that of course kidded myself into thinking that I could handle it. So, for the past month my breakfast consists of at least two of those pops. Yeah….there’s twelve pops in a box and I can go through that in about 2 days. And here’s the really messed up part: I count my calories. I don’t eat over 1200 a day, but that sort of defeats the purpose when I’m scarfing 600 of those daily calories in SUGAR FREE ICE CREAM POPS. And…it’s not like I’m not 47 YEARS OLD AND KNOW BETTER THAN THIS! And that, my dears, is the REAL reason that my weight loss wasn’t as good as it should have been was because of me…me, me, me! So yeah, Once an addict; always an addict. But let me tell you something, I didn’t get my fat ass kicked the last time when I lost all that weight and gained it back for nothing. I know when the game is up, and the game was definitely up! I went home and flushed the rest of the heroin down the toilet…Oh, did I just refer to those empty caloried ice cream pops as “heroin?” Yeah, there’s a reason for that…I got rid of all the “stuff,” and knew it was over. Yeah, I still wanted to cry when I threw it out. It was like getting rid of the vestiges of love affair gone bad. I wanted to cry after that ice cream, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s me. I love you. I love you. I LOVE YOU…WAHHHHHHHH. Don’t leave me! It’s gone, and it’s gone forever. Sometimes I wish I could be “normal,” but I’ll settle for happy. I’m okay though. Damn, I miss that ice cream.

June 28, 2009

4

The Trials, Tribulations and Mental Anguish of Going to the GYM!

I hate working out. I do. I am not one of those, “endorphin rush water bottle carrying gym bag toting heart monitoring yeah, I feel so great after a few hours of sweating” people. Truth be told; if I didn’t have to work out- I wouldn’t, and I wouldn’t miss it one damn bit. But, I do have to work out. I’m making it part of my lifestyle, now. I hate it, but I don’t have a choice, so I do it. So, I go to the gym the other day for a step class. I know that I may not be able to get through it, but hey, I gotta start somewhere. I’m waiting outside the step class and I’m surrounded by all these flippy- tailed little college girls. God, I hate them! I’m just being honest. No, I don’t know them, and yes, I know I’m being irrational. I’m sure they’re very nice girls, but that doesn’t matter; I hate them anyway. They get on my nerves. And they get on my nerves because they have flat non existent stomachs. They have little bitty behinds…my behind has never been that small…not even when I was a baby! Worst of all, they are so joyously happy about getting to that step class! I wish I could beat the hell out of them with their monogrammed gym bags. I go into the class and get my step…none of those little platform, riser thingys that elevate the step. I’m sure the step alone, with its three inches in height will be more than enough for me. I move to the back row; where all fat people work out. I think that if I position myself just right behind a few of those skinny girls that I may not be able to see myself in the mirror. I HATE those mirrors. A friend of mine told me once that the mirrors are there so that I can check my “form.” Hell, I don’t need to check my form. I just need to remain upright. I you hear my fat ass hit the floor then you’ll know that my “form” is in trouble. I do find, however, that if I stand right where the mirrors come together that I look half my size…maybe these mirrors aren’t so bad after all. We begin to work out, and I’m good…for a few minutes. I find that if I do most of the step routines without the step itself, then I can keep myself from passing out…which doesn’t really make it a “step” class does it? It sort of just makes it an…aerobic…floor exercises class. Just when I’m feeling okay, I look over and there is someone with 3 of those little platform things under their step; 3! That step was up to her knees! About that time, the instructor says, “For those of you who want to take it up a notch, you can give a little jump on your step.” Then that masochistic woman with the 3 platform thingys does just that; she “jumps” up on her step! I decided to finish out the step class with my eyes closed. It was awkward, and I had a hard time keeping my balance, but it was worth it!

February 13, 2009

3

The Holiday Season and...broth

I have forgotten what it feels like to be this happy. I love the holiday season, but it's always made me so sad/angry in the past. It always started when someone would ask what I wanted for Christmas, making me want to scream, "Nothing! You can't give me what I want!" And then, the New Year; New Year’s resolutions, and whenever someone would say, “What are your New Year’s resolutions?” I wanted to scream, “My resolution, and there’s only one, is the same as my resolution last year; to NOT BE FAT! But what difference does it make? I never stick to resolutions, just like I never stick to anything, so leave me alone!” But now; now I can breathe. When I was asked what I wanted for Christmas this year, I got to reply, “Oh, I don’t know. I think I have everything I want.” And my N.Year’s resolutions; I’m not making any. I’d already resolved, decided that my life was going to change long before New Years. So, now I sit here, knowing that my Christmas Eve dinner was…broth. While my family ate Dove chocolate that I put in their stockings, I had…broth. My brother’s wife is a gourmet, and while everyone at my mom’s ate the yummiest food you can imagine, I had… broth. I GLADLY had broth. I HAPPILY sipped that broth. And when concerned family would ask, “Are you okay?” I’d answer, “Better than you could possibly imagine.

January 1, 2009

2

The hardest thing about being banded

The hardest thing for me to deal with after being banded is that I’ve had to learn how to live my life without “using” food. Not that I’m trying to be dramatic, but I consider myself to be a recovering addict, and that’s pretty much something that no one goes over with you in pre-op orientation. For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why I would have periods ranging from slight sadness to extreme anger, and it would happen all of a sudden. Then, the other day, after an explosive confrontation with someone, it came to me so clearly: I’m having to deal with, cope with life without my “crutch.” It’s like being an alcoholic or a recovering drug addict. I mean, I could make any situation so much better for the time it took to wallow in some food. Bad day, argument with my husband, coworkers driving me crazy, overdrawn bank account…whatever…no worries…give me a cheeseburger from the Sonic, a large order of onion rings, a route 44 Slushy and a bag of Hershey’s kisses with almonds and my world could come crashing down around me, and I’d die smiling; but no more. Now, I have to deal with things…REALLY deal with them. I see things clearly…too clearly at times. But hey, I’ll gladly learn how to live this way, and I mean “gladly”; gratefully, happily and gladly.

April 16, 2009

6

The Band isn't working?

Okay...so, I wasn’t trying to judge or come across as harsh in my previous blog, and for MONTHS I’ve read so MUCH B.S…and I didn’t blog anything “negative,” because I didn’t want to be negative, or hurt anyone's feelings. But for the love of Kirstie Ally, people; let’s all just ‘fess up and be honest! For those who have legitimate problems with their band...for those who have worked and struggled, and continue to work and struggle (and, yes, it will continue to be a struggle, and NO Virginia, there is no magic-cure-all-procedure…you stand a better chance of there actually being a Santa Claus.) For everyone who needs to hear some encouraging words every once in a while, or for people who have simple questions or suggestions; for the pre-ops and post-ops (can you hear the national anthem playing in the background?...) this site is a great place. HOWEVER… for the people (and you know who you are,) who whine and cry and bitch and moan because they: · Can't seem to stop drinking sodas, and then proclaim that: the band isn’t working. · It's day 3 post op, and even though they’ve managed to puree lasagna and a Bundt cake and drink it through a straw, they CAN'T understand why: the band isn’t working. · Their friends and family aren't supportive and they don't understand. They continue to insist upon having fried chicken and mashed potatoes, sweet corn casserole, yeast rolls and fried okra every Friday night, and they simply can’t tell them “no.” I mean never mind the fact that they sabotage the Bandsters efforts and don’t need to be eating that unhealthy crap…they fix the food anyway, eat the food, and then complain that the band isn’t working. · Instead of eating protein first, they eat a big plate of loaded up nachos because the extra cheese and meat and melted cheese, and cheese IS protein, and then; SURPRISE, they don’t lose any weight and of course; the band isn’t working. · Just can’t seem to get into working out in any way shape or form, and so, it must be that: the band isn’t working. News Flash: most Bandsters; we don’t get “into” working out either, but we do it; not because it’s fun or makes us feel alive or at peace with the world, but because we know we have to. · Kind of, sort of went a little crazy celebrating Vernal Equinox day, their niece’s graduation, their best friends, sister’s son’s Bris, or that most recent holiday and grazed 24/7 on crap that they KNOW they shouldn’t’ t have been eating, and now: the band isn’t working. · They count alcohol as part of their water intake…Eight, 8 ounce glasses of Peach Stoli and tonic a day!...but: the band isn’t working. · They figure that since they’ve had the band, and even though it’s been stressed that it is just a tool and, that they have to eat three small meals a day...of lean, healthy foods, and become physically active, that they can continue to do things way they’ve always done it, somehow get completely different results, because hey, when they tell everyone how the band works and what to do, they weren’t really talking to them…just everybody else, and by the way; the band isn’t working. So, yeah…there it is. For all you pre-ops who may be reading this, take heart; the BAND DOES WORK...as a wonderful, life changing tool. You do your part and it will work. For all of you post-ops and Bandsters; the BAND DOES WORK…as a wonderful, life changing tool...You do your part…really do your part and it will work.

June 1, 2009

8

Sweeter words were never spoken.

A few weeks ago, my I was shopping around some funky, little shops with my daugther. I was ready to leave so, I called her and started out the door. She catches up to me on the sidewalk and say, "I couldn't find you. You've lost so much weight that I didn't recognize you from the back!" I gave a delirious shriek and did a little happy dance, right there in downtown Chatt. This morning, I'm getting ready to go to work and I have on this cute little bolero type jacket. When I bought this little number, about 3 weeks ago, it was snug, but it worked; this morning I had to MOVE THE BUTTONS, to make it TIGHTER! That's right! You heard me! So my totally hot husband says, "I've been able to tell that you're getting thinner when I put my arms around you, but since I see you every day, it's harder for me to tell just by looking at you...until this morning! I could really tell, just by looking at you this morning!" I was so ecstatic at hearing this, that had I not already been dressed and ready for work, I would have given him a little "something-something" right then and there! As I'm leaving work this afternoon, a co-worker walks up to me and tell me how good I'm looking. Then she says, "Last week, when you were on duty, I didn't know who you were. I looked down the hall, and thought, who is that?" I gave her the little happy dance too! Life is good, SO GOOD! Life is GOOD!

March 12, 2009

5

Sorry, but I have to say this...

I hate to be negative, I really do, but I HAVE to say this: I cannot understand WHY people want to post pictures of thier incisions. They all basically look alike...4 or 5 little holes and an incision about 3-4 inches long. It's not like anyone on the forum sees those pix and goes, "Wow, look at that! I've never seen anything like it! It's so interesting, so intriguing, so amazing!" A fat tummy, a few little puncture holes and a little gash. If I want to see that then I can pull up my own shirt and look. Now, if the incisions were all grouped together and formed an outline of Jesus or something, then that might be different...even the Virgin Mary. Or, if you could gaze into the incisions and fortell the future, or make out the winning lotto numbers, or connect with loved ones that have passed; that would be good...but otherwise; I just don't get it.

March 3, 2009

7

Skinny Women

Hey guys, I wrote this piece about 8 years ago, but it still holds true for me. I thought you might enjoy. Skinny Women Skinny women how I hate them. How I love to berate them. It’s not that I’m not sympathetic, but size 9, FAT?- now that’s pathetic! They pat their tummies all nice and flat and say, “Do these pants make my butt look fat?” I sweetly reply, “Not to be rude, but those very pants ... make your ass look huge!” A skinny woman I’ll surely beat if one more says; “I forgot to eat.” “You forgot to eat...now how can that be? Isn’t that like forgetting to breathe?” When they do break down and decide to dine, listen closely and you can hear them whine: “Dry broiled fish.” “No dressing, please.” “No beer, just a water with lemon for me.” “You know I never eat red meat, so a bite of liver, for me is a treat.” “French fries? Onion rings?-Take them away.” “Chocolate mousse?...I’ll take fruit sorbet.” I see television shows like “Ally McBeal” I think to myself, “Can this chick be real?” How in the world does she stay so thin? Does food come out? Does food go in? And the beautiful Renee in “Bridget Jones”, is supposed to be fat or merely “big boned?” “Full figured” gals are back in style? Well, I haven’t seen one in quite a while. The problem here, should I venture a guess... A size 12 is average-not Reubenesque! You see, I’m honest and nothing more, and I find false modesty a tedious bore. Cause I tell you sugar, if I were svelte I’d tuck in my shirt and wear a belt. I’d have leather pants and a halter top. Everything I owned would be “mini” or “cropped.” I’d buy black garter belts and maybe a thong. I’d dress like a whore all the day long. I’d say, “Hey everybody, look at me! I’m looking good at 123!” My friends would say, “Can you believe that? I liked her better when she was fat!” “You liked me much better when I was what?” “Did you mention the “F” word? That’s just what I thought! When I was fat, I was so out of place with my great personality and pretty face. Now I’m much better. I’m better I say! Step back non-believers! Out of my way!” As I sashay by on stiletto heels, leaving them to guess what’s been “bought” and what’s “real”. But enough flights of fancy of this fantasy. I’m sure that I am, and will always be me. And “me’s” pretty good. Yep, “ME”- that’’ll do... but... I would like some thighs you can see daylight through. Just kidding. (Not really) Bear with me my friend, for soon I’ll be finished; this tirade will end. It’s just that I struggle and struggle some more, You’d think I would learn; (that’s what therapy’s for.) When it’s all been hashed out. When it’s all said and done; I like me a lot. I’m really quite fun. I know what’s important I do know what counts, and it’s not what I weigh measured out pound and ounce. I just need to vent every once in a while, and give all the fat girls a reason to smile. Wendy Tippens

March 6, 2009

2

Skinny Women

Hello Everyone, I wrote this piece about 8 years ago, and it still holds true for me. I thought you might enjoy. Skinny Women Skinny women how I hate them. How I love to berate them. It’s not that I’m not sympathetic, but size 9, FAT?- now that’s pathetic! They pat their tummies all nice and flat and say, “Do these pants make my butt look fat?” I sweetly reply, “Not to be rude, but those very pants ... make your ass look huge!” A skinny woman I’ll surely beat if one more says; “I forgot to eat.” “You forgot to eat...now how can that be? Isn’t that like forgetting to breathe?” When they do break down and decide to dine, listen closely and you can hear them whine: “Dry broiled fish.” “No dressing, please.” “No beer, just a water with lemon for me.” “You know I never eat red meat, so a bite of liver, for me is a treat.” “French fries? Onion rings?-Take them away.” “Chocolate mousse?...I’ll take fruit sorbet.” I see television shows like “Ally McBeal” I think to myself, “Can this chick be real?” How in the world does she stay so thin? Does food come out? Does food go in? And the beautiful Renee in “Bridget Jones”, is supposed to be fat or merely “big boned?” “Full figured” gals are back in style? Well, I haven’t seen one in quite a while. The problem here, should I venture a guess... A size 12 is average-not Reubenesque! You see, I’m honest and nothing more, and I find false modesty a tedious bore. Cause I tell you sugar, if I were svelte I’d tuck in my shirt and wear a belt. I’d have leather pants and a halter top. Everything I owned would be “mini” or “cropped.” I’d buy black garter belts and maybe a thong. I’d dress like a whore all the day long. I’d say, “Hey everybody, look at me! I’m looking good at 123!” My friends would say, “Can you believe that? I liked her better when she was fat!” “You liked me much better when I was what?” “Did you mention the “F” word? That’s just what I thought! When I was fat, I was so out of place with my great personality and pretty face. Now I’m much better. I’m better I say! Step back non-believers! Out of my way!” As I sashay by on stiletto heels, leaving them to guess what’s been “bought” and what’s “real”. But enough flights of fancy of this fantasy. I’m sure that I am, and will always be me. And “me’s” pretty good. Yep, “ME”- that’’ll do... but... I would like some thighs you can see daylight through. Just kidding. (Not really) Bear with me my friend, for soon I’ll be finished; this tirade will end. It’s just that I struggle and struggle some more, You’d think I would learn; (that’s what therapy’s for.) When it’s all been hashed out. When it’s all said and done; I like me a lot. I’m really quite fun. I know what’s important I do know what counts, and it’s not what I weigh measured out pound and ounce. I just need to vent every once in a while, and give all the fat girls a reason to smile.

March 6, 2009

3

Sing this loud and proud. I hope it makes you smile.

Lap Band Survival (Sung to the tune of "I Will Survive") At first I was afraid. I was petrified. But then I got so sick and tired of my fat butt and thighs. And I spent oh so many nights with dreams of skinny size 9 jeans, and I decided to do something really special just for me. And so I’m banded. I’m on week one. I live on chicken broth and jello, but I know this can be done. I’m gonna tuck in all my shirts. I’m gonna buy myself a thong. thought my bikini days were over, but I’m thinking I was wrong! And now I’ll go, to walk a mile or two. I might even break into a run, ‘cause there’s nothing I can’t do. I’ll have no more bread or pop, but I’ll have all those sales to shop, and I’ll survive. I will survive. Hey. Hey

December 27, 2008

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Oh, what a difference a year makes!

I’m in New Orleans; in the French Quarter…now…right now! I am typing this blog from my hotel room as you read. Nyal’leens is a very cool place…not as great-awesome-I-must-have-died-and-gone-to-heaven-fantastic as NYC, but very nice all the same. Of course, maybe I’m not being fair. Maybe I can’t really give Nyal-leens it’s due, because I’m experiencing so many amazing “firsts.” This is the first time that I’ve ever gone on vacation and been totally bummed because I forgot my running shoes. This is the first time that I’ve gone on vacation, and although, I do still have “hammy” arms, I’m not worried about it, AND hell yes, I go sleeveless. But most importantly…and this is HUGE; this is the first time that I’ve gone on vacation and been off sugar AND not completely obsessed over food for the right reasons. I’ll explain. In the past I’ve gone on vacation and not obsessed over food. Yes; that is true. But I didn’t obsess because I was eating…everything. So, there was nothing to obsess over. I was all out, no holds barred, eating. The times that I went on vacation and obsessed about food was when I had either just came off of a diet, or I was on a diet, but had taken “vacation week” off from dieting and/or eating right. You know how that goes. “I’m going on vacation and it will just be too hard to be on a diet. “I’m not going to go on vacation and NOT eating. That’s crazy. I only go on vacation once a year.” “God, I’ve worked so hard on this diet so that I can fit into this ridiculously tiny bikini to impress a bunch of people that I don’t know and will never see again, and now that I made my goal I can eat!...of course I’ll only eat while I’m on this vacation, and the minute I get back home I’ll cut out all the junk…but that means when I actually pull into my driveway; not on the way home, but when I GET home…unless of course, we get home on a Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday or Sunday because I can’t cut all the vacation eating halfway through the week…I’ll just wait until Monday. Everyone knows that Monday is the official “I’m back on my diet and/or eating healthy” day. Now, in the past, when I had employed any of these excuses/strategies I would get CRAZY. I’d be obsessing about food because I had deprived myself for soooo long and food was the ultimate reward, so I’d obsess over what kind of off limits goodies I was going to eat. Also, I’d know that I only had vacation to eat this way, so I’d gorge myself…because I’d have to go on a diet/start eating right when I got back home, and even if I didn’t want the food I’d know that I’d be kicking myself come Monday. I knew I’d be thinking, “Damn, I KNEW should’ve eating that huge dessert that I didn’t have room for when I had the chance! Yes, it would have made me sick, but who cares? Now it’s MONDAY and I can’t HAVE IT! *One time, I was on a family vacation in Daytona Beach, and I had just come off of this horrible starvation diet (I was 23, 5’7 and weighed 114) I know, crazy, right? So, we were at this restaurant; Captain Cody’s, and I had already eaten a full mean, and I was stuffed…but I wanted dessert, so I ordered it. I want you to know, that I was so stuffed and miserable that I could not stay awake at the table! I put my head down and nodded off. Yes! I was Thanksgiving Day full, and when they brought my dessert I roused myself awake and ate it! But this year…for the first time in my 47 year old life I went on vacation and food was not a big deal. Let me just say that again because it just feels so damn good; I went on vacation (and was off sugar,) and FOOD WAS NO BIG DEAL! I’m a lucky girl!

June 30, 2009

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No more shopping in the "fat girl" section!

I go for my 5 month weigh in this Friday, and I can't wait! The decision to be "banded" was the best decision I've ever made! At my last weigh in, almost a month ago, I hit my 4 month Bandiversary, and was down 48 pounds! I started out at 271 and had lost down to 223. I'm pretty good at knowing about how much I'm going to lose every month...yep, I only weigh ONCE a month. For me, I know I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing, so I don't see the point in weighing anymore than that. So, I'm thinking I'll probably lose about 10lbs and that will put me at almost 60 down! I've always said that the weight loss is "secondary" for me; it's the sanity and the peace of mind that's the real payoff in my life...however, I will say this: I, Wendy Tippens, who hasn't ventured out of the "plus size" section for at least 4 years, now gets to shop in the MISSES section. I also get to "tuck in." My clothes do not have elastic anymore, but ZIPPERS! Do you hear me? ZIPPERS! Can I see my toes yet? NO! Do I care? HELL, NO! I'll get there, but what's the rush? For right now, let me revel in the beauty of actually getting to "shop!" I don't mean choosing between what looks like a shower curtain made into a dress, or a caftan like my memaw used to wear; No! I get to shop. I get to stand at a rack of clothing between the sizes of 14-16 (sometimes even a 12!) and happily flip those hangers for hours if I want. And I might do just that. I might just take a day off and look at garment after garment after garment. I think I'll try each and every one of them on. Do I have any intention of buying? Nope! I just want to spend the day in the "normal" section and try on every single damn article of clothing I can find. Why?...BECAUSE I CAN...because...I...can.

May 19, 2009

4

My Red High Heels!

TODAY…is the day that I wore high heels to school. Oh, but not just any high heels…oh no, these were…are you ready for this: red, glittered, sandal, stilettos! The heels on these bad girls must be at least 4-5 inches. I get up, get dressed in this really cute black and white, polka dotted sundress; with red piping…very retro 1950’s looking. I bought it at spring of this year and it was tight…now it fits fine. I had to wear a little black shrug so that I’d be in dress code…I’m a teacher…can’t be showing too much skin around Middle School boys with raging hormones! So, I was just about to go for my “cute”, medium heeled black shoes when I saw those red glittery ones. Now, I do not have to tell you how unbearably painful wearing high heels can be when you’re fat. I mean, the only reason I had these shoes was for a show I perform and the second I hit the wings of the stage I’d kick those shoes off. God! The Agony! But, no more! One of my teacher friends was like, “Your feet are going to be killing you today.” To which I replied, “I’ve waited a long damn time to be able to wear heels again and I might just wear these bitches everywhere I go…to work, to check the mail, to take out the trash, to the pool, to church, to water the garden, grocery shopping…hell, I might sleep in them. I may never take them off…EVER! So today, whenever anyone said, “You look beautiful,” I simply smiled happily and said, “Thank You.” Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!

August 21, 2009

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My Party

Someday...soon, when I don't have to shop in the "fat girls" section, I will throw a big party. The invites will read, "Your invited to my I don't have to shop in the fat girls' section anymore." Guests don't have to bring a gift, but they do have to "gush" about how much weight I've lost, before I'll let them in. At the party I will wear my clothing inside out and backwards, so that everyone can easily see that I'm not a 1,2 or 3x anymore. Then we will all gather round' and my guests will sing, "For she's not shopping in the fat girls' section. For she's not shopping in the fat girls' section. For she's not shopping in the fat girls' section; this nobody can deny." Hell, I may even make them sing that a few times; who knows?

January 4, 2009

4

Month 6 and 64 lbs. lighter!

I went for my 6 month check up and I'm down 64 pounds! I can hardly believe that next month I'll FINALLY be in ONEDERLAND! I'm not sure what I'm going to do to celebrate...of course just being there is really enough! I haven't gotten around to posting any progress pix lately, but I'll do it this weekend. If anyone is interested, check out my video blog on "youtube;" That Crazy Fat Chick Episodes 1-3. Now, I gotta tell you, I pretty much say what's on my mind, so "watcher be warned," I guess.

June 26, 2009

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Merry Christmas!

Here I am! 4 days post op and drinking that soup! And, let me just say that in NO WAY am I going to complain about anything...but...DAMN, I love chocolate! I'm not eating it...and I'm not drinking it...although I have given the latter some serious though. I did smell some of it though. I don't know if you can normally smell it through the wrapper or if I just have super sensitive olfactory senses. But I did...I gave it a good whiff...and then I back slowly away. And would I do all this again, and at this time of the year? Oh yeah! Without a doubt!

December 25, 2008

1

Life lessons learned.

No I ain't had nothing to drink I knew that’s probably what you'd think If I dropped by this time of night Remember way back when I promised you I'd drop in At one of those meetings down at the Y Well, they started talkin bout steps you take Mistakes you make The hearts you break And the price you pay I almost walked away You could hear a pin drop When this old man Stood up and said I'm gonna' say it again Like I do every week For those who don't know me (Chorus) It's the simple things in life Like the kids at home and a loving wife That you miss the most, when you lose control And everything you love starts to disappear The devil takes your hand and says no fear Have another shot, just one more beer Yah, I've been there, that's why I'm here This ole boy stood up in the aisle Said he'd been living a life of denial And he cried as he talked about wasted years I couldn't believe what I heard It was my life word for word And all of the sudden it was clear (Repeat Chorus) That’s one of my favorite songs. It’s written and performed by Kenny Chesney, and for a long time I couldn’t hear it without crying; sometimes, I still can’t. I know it’s about alcoholism, but it’s also about me and my eating disorder. So many times, I thought, “I got this. I’m in control. I’m NOT an addict. I’m not ill.” Then there was the time when I lost 71 lbs. on Weight Watchers, and I was convinced that I was “fixed.” I was cured. I wasn’t “that” person anymore, and I was never going back; ever…but, I did. The devil definitely took my hand and I thought, “Just this once.” “Just this once” led to a downhill slide and a massive weight gain. I spent years beating myself up over that. I could not believe that after all that hard work that I blew it, like that. And then, my darkest days began. I felt as though my eating was so much bigger than me. It was something separate from me, that I couldn’t control. I hated life. Every day was a struggle of when do I eat/how much do I get to eat/when will I get to eat again/ what is there to eat? Worst of all, I knew that if I ever did get it together, that it wouldn’t stay together. And I hated everyone; but no one as much as myself...I really hated me. I think that everyone has to have their “moment of truth.” Mine came for me at 3:00 in the morning, watching a show on WLS. I remember thinking, “Life doesn’t have to be this hard.” I pretty much decided right then, that I was going to do this thing. You know, I would have NEVER thought that anything positive could have came from that 71 lb. weight gain, but I was wrong; several positive life lessons came from that. I learned that just when you think you’ve got your demon under control, and you get so high and mighty and complacent that it will rear its ugly head and kick your ass. I learned what to look out for, and what foods that I can’t handle; foods that are “triggers” for overeating. I learned that I am WAY stronger than I ever imagined. Lastly, I learned that the weight loss is secondary for me. The main thing is that I’m free. I’m free from the prison known as my eating disorder. And life is good. Life is very good.

April 8, 2009

7

Leaving the doctor's office and crying.

Today is 4 months to the day since I was banded, and the day that I went for my four month weigh in. And here's something strange; recently, I've been having these feelings of "sadness" every month. I couldn't figure out what was going on' everything would be going great, and then "wham;" a dark cloud. Finally, I figured it out, and here's how the madness would begin. I only weigh once a month... (I HIGHLY recommend it, btw.) Anyway, when it would get down to a couple of days before my "weigh day" the sadness would start, and this never happened until I they found my "sweet spot." So, here's the deal; when I walk around and feel "full," I automatically think that I've been binging. Then I think about how I've gone back to my old ways, and I can't believe I did that, and God only knows how much weight I'll gain when I go to the doctor's office. See, I'm not used to feeling full without overeating, and that's what was bringing me down. I've had to keep a food journal, so that I can look back and prove to myself that I haven't overeaten. Then, when I think, "Crap! I've messed this up," I can look back and go, "Oh, okay; I've only eat 1200 calories a day, so I'm good." Fast forward to today, and even though I know better, I have been stressing like crazy about weighing. I get on the scale, and of course I know what I need to weigh. I shoot for 2 lbs a week, so I know I need to weigh 225. The readout on the scale was 223! And I think, "How can that be? How can that possibly be? I'm not starving. I'm not constantly obsessing about food. I'm not angry or cranky, so how can it be that I've lost 48 pounds? So, I hop off the scale, grab the nurse and give her a big hug, then head out the door. As I get to my car I start to cry. I just can't believe how great my life is and how much everything has changed.

April 23, 2009

7

Just happy to be here!

YESSSSS! In about 3 hours, I officially be "post op!" I don't know if it's my fab doctor, my attitude, or both, but I feel AMAZING! Yes, yes, through gas pains and all, I am...ecstatic! My doctor didn't put me on any kind of pre op diet, but he did require that I have only liquids for 2 weeks, and do I CARE? No, I don't. I'll happily chug that chicken broth with a smile on my face! I've waited a long time for this chance, so I'm just happy to be here!

December 23, 2008

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