A Brush with Death Is A Powerful Thing.

Food was my way of comforting myself and relieving stress for as far back into my childhood as I can remember. There was alcohol and violence in my childhood home and I needed comfort. There was no human source for it so I created a source for it.

Food "hugged me" and made me feel safer. In an environment with stressors beyond my control. I had a small something I could easily access to sooth myself. It was my mind deciding what to eat for comfort and it was my hand lifting the food to my mouth. I was in the driver's seat regarding something in my life and body, even if I wasn't safe in my home. Food was my best friend, provided comfort and gave me a way to manage even a small part of my life.

By my teens, my chubby appearance morphed into actually being significantly overweight. At the age of 12, I jumped from a women's size 12 to size 18 and never looked back. By the age of 20, soon after my mother's death, I was a size 26 and 330 pounds. In my 30s, I lost 130 pounds too rapidly and much of my hair by binging and purging and in my 40s, I again lost 130 pounds after LAP-BAND Weight Loss Surgery in 2003.

But because I had not done the emotional, internal work on my relationship with food and childhood trauma, my food addiction shifted to liquid calories I could easily pass through the LAP-BAND, which is common. At this time, for the first time in my life, I developed an alcohol problem and my dinner each night was a six pack of "vodka coolers" followed by a pint of low-fat ice cream for dessert.

Nutrition was the last thought on my mind and my focus was on comfort calories that could pass through "the band." By 2006, all the weight I lost was back. I also continued to eat solid foods that would force me to vomit and caused my esophagus to become distended. When a LAP-BAND patient doesn't respect the "full" signals the body sends to the brain and continues to eat, the esophagus becomes a storage place for excess food and the esophagus stretches. This made the LAP-BAND useless and while it is still in my body, it no longer functions properly.

At the same time, during the last 20 years, I developed back problems from bulging discs related to the weight I was carrying. I began using opiates under a doctor's supervision to combat pain and muscle spasms in my back and in my knees that resulted in five knee surgeries. At first, I viewed the opiates as a wonderful tool as they relieved or masked some of the pain and also provided an emotional high. Soon I was using the opiates for emotional reasons more than for pain and as my tolerance for them grew, I needed larger doses to get the same effect. Then I needed to graduate to a stronger form of opiate and that is when, 10 years ago, I began taking Oxycodone and OxyContin around the clock along with Flexeril for muscle spasms.

Sitting for long periods became unbearable and I was forced to leave my career as a Court Paralegal and qualified for "permanent disability." I cried as I left the hearing in which I was declared disabled. I didn't want to be disabled but felt it must be true for a judge to decide it was. It was 2010 and I believed my life was essentially over. At 50 years old I was simply waiting to slowly die. I believed all my happy days were behind me.

When my doctor suggested I try yoga before we take the drastic step of implanting electrodes in my spine for the pain, I began attending a very gentle yoga class for people with disabilities. Slowly, over a two year period, I began to build stronger core muscles which made the back spasms less severe and less frequent.

But I continued to take the opiates because by then I had an emotional and chemical dependence on them. During this time, I was diagnosed with Sleep Apnea which was caused by the opiates and excess weight. Opiates disrupt the brains signals to the lungs and suppress the respiratory drive.

On top of this - physical pain, addiction and emotional unhappiness - I was also caring for my father with Alzheimer's. Although in a safe and loving group home, I still felt responsible for my father's well-being and comfort. I was his only family within 3000 miles. As so often happens when caring for a loved-one, we stop caring for ourselves in every sense.

Soon after my father's death in 2012, I developed pneumonia because my breathing became so inconsistent that my lungs filled with fluid. I realized at that point I needed to change everything about my life including losing the weight and decreasing, even eliminating, my use of opiates or else I would die. At that moment, in the hospital in 2012, the desire to live was sparked in me by the threat of death!

After leaving the hospital, for 60 days, I detoxed and experienced cold sweats, tremors and anxiety as the opiates slowly left my bloodstream. Once I was drug-free, I began making small, sustainable changes to my diet and gradually increasing amounts of movement. (Yes, that means exercise!) Over the following 18 months, my weight dropped from a high of 333 pounds down to 185. As a 6'3" tall woman this is a healthy, lean weight for me.

In 2013, I decided then to give myself the gift of nearly full-body plastic surgery. Since I was already severely overweight in my teens, at a time of life when many young girls look their best and enjoy being pretty, I decided "it is never too late to have a happy childhood." During an 11-hour surgery, 13 pounds of skin was removed from my abdomen, buttocks, back, chest and under arms. For the first time since the age of 12, no part of my belly and buttocks continue to jiggle when I stop walking, no part of me droops and my thighs do not rub together. The Sleep Apnea is gone and I now climb mountains instead of grabbing railings to pull myself up stairs! But the hardest mountain I've ever climbed was a "metaphorical mountain" in those first few weeks of starting to change my relationships with food and drugs, as well as beginning to move.

I am enjoying a lovely renaissance in a healthy, lean, strong and coincidentally beautiful body. However, this transformation has not been about beauty. My goals are continued health and a desire to live with passion, and about choosing to do more than survive. I am driven from an internal source to live a vibrant, full life of joy so I can continue to enjoy the love of family and friends and so they needn't lose me to obesity and addiction.

This photo (above) was taken on the highest mountain in the 48 contiguous United States, Mount Whitney. After 10 hours of climbing 6,134 feet to an elevation of 14,508 feet covering 11 miles, I summited at 2:00 pm and like every part of my weight-loss, fitness and "reclamation of life" journey, I did it!

Yet, like during every aspect of my journey I had partners. My partners knew the lay of the land, my strength and challenges. I surrounded myself with people who knew how to help me get where I wanted to go. Physical and mental health professionals who coached me to express my full potential. What mountains will you climb in your life and who will help you get there? Build your team, including here at BariatricPal, and there is no "mountain" you cannot climb!