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.

As always Wendy, you keep it real and I appreciate that! You're still doing an awesome job though...64 Pounds is AMAZING! I'm feeling really guilty about the ice cream scoop I had Thursday now...so NOT worth it. Food addiction is a tough monster. Keep on going girl, can't wait for the new pics! -BG

So true. We're food addicts, emotional eaters, etc. We have to face our demons.

See, here’s the thing; I don’t think having a singular scoop of ice cream is a big deal, but my problem is that I don’t want a singular scoop of ice cream. I want my scoop and your scoop and the person in front of me in line, I want their scoop too. Then, I’d like some ice cream to take home for later. Later, meaning way after 10:00 at night, probably…when it can do me the most harm.

You know, as a kid, I remember that Baskin Robbins had this delectable monstrosity of ice cream called THE MATERHORN! It was not one, not two, but SEVEN scoops of ice cream! In my pre pubescent fat girl’s mind I dreamed not of receiving my first kiss from Donny Osmond, not of Bobby Sherman taking me on my first “car date,” and not even of wearing a purple, crush velvet pantsuit and walking down the aisle, carrying a Partridge Family lunchbox in lieu of a bouquet to utter dreamily, “I do…think I love you,” to my teen idol soul mate David “Keith Partridge” Cassidy!” No, I didn’t wax rhapsodic for any of these dreams; instead, I dreamed of having one of those 7 scoop treats all to myself!

Yep, that’s my problem because that’s just the way I roll… (although, thank God, not literally.)