(Cross posted from the forums.)

So, my lovely girlfriend took a number of pictures of me standing around in just my boxers, and, yeah... now I remember why 1) I never go shirtless, and 2) I don't like pictures!

I believe that, under all the flab, I'm still a basically good looking man. But I have let the fat pile up, in roll after roll, until I'm almost unrecognizable under it. I think I've never really let myself accept just how very fat I've become. I have this bizarre mental image of myself as much more "normal" weight than is reality, but I also live in constant apprehension of someone seeing just how large I am. It's a bizarre mental double-image, and the photos today (which are in my private profile, and are going to stay private until I have some real progress to show!) were... a shock. My weight looks... ungainly, unhealthy, and just unsupportable, long-term. In some ways I think I haven't been fully committed to the surgery until this moment, just now, when I realized "man, if you stay like this, if you don't change something, you are going to die, painfully, and soon."

I really understand now why...

• My back almost always hurts. If it's not my back, it's my shoulder from lying on my side to read or sleep (all that weight on my shoulder causes problems).
  
• I almost never sleep well, and fight constantly with apnea.
  
• I'm sick so often.
  
• I hate exercise so much -- if I walk long distances (or even stand up straight for too long), something is always chafing or rubbing or constricting. It's not surprising... with that much flab to move around, who would be comfortable?
  
• I have such a hard time finding clothes that fit. I buy huge, tent-like clothes to try to fit into and "hide" my flab, but let's be real... I'm not fooling anybody.
  
• I feel so awkward in social situations -- I'm very body-shy, and it's very difficult for me to avoid the belief that someone is "judging" me for my body.
  

Some years ago, I had LASIK surgery because I was very nearsighted. I had to wear thick, coke bottle glasses (or contacts, but they were killing my eyes). I was very frightened of the surgery, to be honest -- I was worried I would go blind or something. But I got through it; I did my best to follow the surgeon's instructions TO THE LETTER, and when my eyes had fully healed, I had better than 20/20 vision (20/10 in one eye, 20/15 in the other). It wasn't entirely a positive experience; I had to shell out five thousand dollars of my own money (LASIK was still new). It was a little painful and a lot frightening, but I still consider it one of the best choices I've ever made. I still just stare out on this beautiful world, sometimes, and marvel at how nice it is to be able to really SEE without thick lenses or frames chafing my ears or getting smudged or slipping down (and making everything look small, that's one odd effect of glasses that they never mention -- everything looks so SMALL). It was totally worth the money, and I would do it again in a moment.

So that's how I'm thinking of the weight loss surgery. I've done the research; on almost every single metric, this surgery will improve my life. It will add years of life expectancy, and (maybe more important), it will likely be QUALITY life, not years spent in sickness and decline. It will restore my mental image of myself as a "normal looking" guy to reality. It will hopefully ease my constant anxiety that something is Dreadfully Wrong with me, health-wise (I'm fortunate that almost all of my anxiety is, for now, ungrounded -- but how long will THAT last?). YES, there will be some initial pain, but apparently not much. YES, I'll have to likely deal with some nausea or "sliming" or whatever, but that's a small price to pay. YES, I'll have to re-learn how to eat, and make good food choices every single day, but to be honest, I should have been doing that anyhow.

I'm hoping that, like the LASIK surgery, I'll look back on this in a few years and say "would I do it again? Absolutely, yes. In a heartbeat." Because after looking at myself in all of my non-glory today, I don't like what I see. That much fat just can't be sustained. This kind of life of pain, embarrassment, discomfort, and always waiting for the "other shoe to fall," health-wise, just can't last. I have to do it. I think, now, I may finally WANT to do it.