I have three full days left before surgery. These last couple of days have been a little more difficult. I'm supposed to be on all liquids, no protein bar. I want nothing more than to chew something. I want to eat food. My craving for food in my mouth has consumed my thoughts today. I couldn't focus on anything else for very long. I haven't gotten anything done that needed to be done. I have been sticking to the plan, but it is so difficult. I've spent much of today angry and grumpy... and crying from the frustration I feel. The dog and cat have done their best to distract me. I actually took a nap earlier today. I don't typically nap.

Lost in thought today, trying to distract myself, I went through a whole roller coaster of emotions. In less than 5-days' time, I will be sitting in the hospital, surgery will be completed, and the tool I've been waiting 10 years to deploy will be in hand. I will be past that milestone, past the anxiety and nerves I feel today. I will have the rest of my life ahead of me, without being controlled by the constant hunger I've felt for the last couple years. I will be able to get into shape and live the life I've always wanted.

I've lost my youth in this process. I am 35 years old, I'm no longer the 20-something idealist who wanted to save the world. I am no longer the person who stayed out to all hours of the night partying and dancing. I missed most of the things I wanted to do in my mid-20s, because I was so caught up in working long hours, doing my master's degree, and getting ahead. That isn't what I wanted for myself. I hardly made time to date in my 20s. I had a boyfriend during college, and a couple short-term things since. Most of my adult life has been on my own. My nephew once asked me why I would choose such a lonely existence.

... This is where some of the soul searching comes in...

For as long as I can remember, I have feared relationships, just as much as I have feared being on my own. I always wanted someone to love me... but I was always the fat girl, the weird girl... I didn't fit into anyone's mold or ideal. I grew up in a small town, and I was never asked out by the boys I went to school with... not once... Not my entire time in high school... I did have a date to junior and senior proms, but that was because I dragged along friends who were younger than me (and in band with me). I was always told there was something wrong with me, and I feared I would always be alone. In college, I started dating someone my first year, and I held on to that shred of hope for 4 years past the expiration date. He was horrible to me, and he even admitted that to me years later. I wanted so desperately to have someone be there for me, that I let him drag me down. It was the worst break-up I could have ever imagined. It took my years to want to try dating again.

After college, I thought work and grad school could help me fill the void I have always felt in my life. I loved my job and used to joke about how I was married to my work. I did my best in school, and my last semester gpa was 3.54. I was doing so well. Then I broke up with my job in my early 30s, or rather, I moved on. I was ready for a new adventure. I was promoted and one of the youngest people at my level in the entire department. I thought I was doing so well. I thought I could take on the world, and started dating again, all of the wrong people. Within a few months, I was so incredibly miserable. Oh, and let's not forget about all of the money I spend to fill the void. I bought a house, had a new car, filled my house completely... I had so many clothes that I couldn't possibly wear them all. I filled the closet in my room, the office, and the upstairs room. I decided to moonlight as a photographer to help distract me from how miserable I was at work and in my relationships. I had all this amazing equipment, $1000s of equipment.

In dating the wrong people, I felt so worthless. The last guy I dated would come to visit on the weekend, and we would do nothing but fight. Or rather, he would spend a couple hours yelling at me about everything, my house was a mess, i was too fat, I worked too much, you name it... we would go through the spiel, every weekend. He left me and moved on... was married by the following summer. I was devastated that I meant so little to someone that they could turn around and marry another less than a year after we had been making plans for the long-term. I was done. I couldn't take it anymore. I had one of those moments in life where I sat at a crossroads, and a quote from my favorite movie popped in my head. It was time to get busy living or get busy dying. I chose living. I made a radical change that shocked everyone. The next day I put in my 2-weeks' notice at work, I got rid of my stuff, I turned my house back over to the bank, I packed up my camera, laptop, and some clothes and I hit the road. I ended up in a small village in central america, working with a non-profit and feeling free and like myself for the first time since I was in college. I was living off my savings, with the intent to continue south, working along the way as I could find it.

Unfortunately, family issues summoned me back to the US within a year. I wasn't done with my journey, but things needed to be handled state-side. Not to mention, I had a few loose ends to tie up before departing further into the jungle. I had not finished my master's degree. I stopped 1 class shy and took a break for personal reasons. I had some stuff in storage that I need to rid myself of. I need to lose my excess weight and get healthy again.

Sorry... tangent...

I came across someone while I was traveling who was rather insightful... She told me that there were still things I needed to fix about myself and how I perceive myself. She said that I would not be happy in a relationship until I am happy with myself. Looking back, she was right, I was always miserable in those relationships. I was never searching for a partner for the right reasons. I don't know if I know what those reasons are, or if I will ever know. She told me that I would be in my mid-to-late 30s before I felt alive and whole, but I needed to do that for myself before bringing another into the equation.

Its been a couple years, I'm state-side... I'm now 35 years old... and everything fell into place to allow me to have surgery just a few months after my birthday. Looking back, I am sorry that I missed out on the vibrance of what could've been my 20-something life, but I'm convinced I needed to have those experiences to truly be ready for these moments over the next few days, weeks, months, years... If I would've opted for the surgery in my mid-20s, I would have not taken the chance to find myself. I did, in the jungles of central america, find myself more than any other moment I've had. I was on my own two feet, I was in a place I didn't speak the language, I felt good with the work I did. Most importantly, I was not defined in terms of anyone else. I was strong, independent, free willed... and the only thing that stopped me from continuing further on the journey was a choice I made to return state-side and help my family.