Flutterby

I haven't blogged as much as I had hoped I would. Tonight, though, I can't get to sleep, so I thought this would be as good an opportunity as any to get some of these thoughts and see what they look like on the screen. I've seen a number of threads where people make their confessions or things like that. I don't know if I'm these will be as dramatic as all that, but as I'm approaching 5 months post op, a lot about me has changed, and a lot has stayed the same. So here's where I am tonight:
 
1. Losing weight changes so much in your life, but it doesn't change everything. This is obvious, yet something that I need to remind myself of from time to time. I'm extremely lucky-- I am, and was before surgery, very happy with my life in general. I have a great husband, great kids, a great job, and I'm meeting many of my professional goals. But the peripheral problems are still there, nagging: worries about work, paying for my son's college, questioning whether or not I'm doing the right thing going back to school in the fall (I'm getting my doctorate). Stress continues. It's not unbearable, but man can it back up.
 
2 I'm terrified of gaining weight back. When I go to the support group or read stories on the message boards about people who have reached their goals and then slowly start putting it back on-- it just makes me so scared. Hopefully that fear with keep me focused. I also don't want to be totally obsessed about my weight for the rest of my life.
 
3. I'm hung up on certain numbers. I've lost 70 pounds and I should be so thrilled, but a big part of me simply won't believe that this is actually happening until I reach some major goals. I'm 4 pounds away from one of them now. 186. I have not seems 186 in more than 18 years.
 
4. The more weight I lose, the more my husband's weight bothers me. I adore this man; there's simply no doubt about this. But I feel like I'm working hard to make myself the best I can be and to be a healthy role model for our kids. And I'm watching him get bigger. He's picking up my slack. If I make the same amount of something that I used to, he eats his share and the part that I can no longer eat. I'm worried about his health and his self-image. I'd kinda like to keep him around for a while.
 
5. I'm really, really proud of myself. I am. And I'm not good at being proud of myself. I'm running, for God's sake. I've never been a runner, and I ran a 5k two weeks ago, and I'm jogging 2 or 3 miles on the treadmill 3-4 times a week right now. I want to scream it from the rooftops because I NEVER THOUGHT I COULD DO THIS. I wore a pair of size 12 jeans tonight. I haven't done that in more than 18 years.
 
6. Some of my friends are getting weird about it. Most are extremely supportive, but others seem uncomfortable with the thought of me no longer being the fat friend.
 
7. I'm uncomfortable with the compliments sometimes. Especially at work and that kind of thing. I always tell people I had surgery, and I find myself saying it as though that discounts the hard work that I've done. And I feel like the people I work with are constantly looking me up and down, assessing me. It's weird.
 
8. I'm so worried about extra skin. I've always had great boobs, and they are definitely deflating a bit. My arms are getting flappy, too. I'm terrified that I'm going to look like Jabba the Hutt's skinny sister.
 
9. Did I mention that I'm terrified about gaining weight? I don't want to look like Jabba the Hutt's fatter sister, either.
 
10. I still enjoy drinking wine, and I always will. Maybe that's why I'm losing 1.5-2 pounds a week instead of 3, but I can deal with that. I plan on living my life. If I don't work out some kind of balance, I won't be able to do this long term. And I must do this long term.

I'm channeling my inner Dori and singing to myself...Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...in more ways than one. Today is 8 weeks and I lost a whole pound this week. So my 9# loss in Month 2 is a lot less than my 19# loss in my first month. BUT things are definitely changing...so I've just gotta keep going!
 
I joined a gym last week. After a little fiasco with the first gym I tried (a very uncomfortable experience) I ended up joining a gym that the whole family can go to. They have 3 pools and a great kids program and I think it's going to be a great place for my whole family. I have gone everyday since I joined and am doing a lot of swimming. I'm not a very fast swimming but I can definitely tell I'm working parts of my body that haven't been worked in awhile. My step daughter is a water polo player and she has taken it upon herself to be my personal trainer and is having me do her water workouts....well my version of them anyway She is either going to whip me into shape or kill me...LOL
 
My kids are swimming with me, and it's been interesting to hear their comments about Mom getting in and swimming and not just sitting on the side soaking my feet. Apparently, I have been missing out on a lot since I got heavier .
 
So I am walking, and biking, and swimming...trying to get in 5-6 days a week of some sort of activity. So even if the scale isn't moving very much, I KNOW I am in a very different place than I was last year at this time. I'm not the heaviest person at the pool, and I'm not the skinniest...but I am starting to feel comfortable in my own skin!!!
 
Heaviest Weight: 281
3/6/13 Surgery: 257 (-24)
3/13/13: 251 (-6)
3/20/13: 245 (-6)
3/28/13: 238 (-7)
4/3/13: 238 (-0)
FIRST MONTH -19#
4/10/13: 237 (-1)
4/17/13: 235 (-2)
4/24/13: 233 (-2)
5/2/13: 229 (-4)
SECOND MONTH -9#

I planned this surgery for a year. I dreamed about it for a lot longer than that. So, when my surgery finally got approved and scheduled, I immediately hid it from almost everyone close to me. No one at my office knows I was sleeved. Only my husband, best friend, 2nd Mom (my mom's best friend.... She stands in for my Mom), and one brother (of five siblings). Everyone else knows the "vague truth" story.... A procedure done to remove some of the fat in my liver and "roto-rooting" to discourage more fat build-up in my otherwise compromised liver. Still.... Sort of the truth. So, what's the big deal? Why am I hesitant to just say, "yeah, I got sleeved to lose weight?" Why is there shame around that? Is it because John Q Public who has always been height-weight proportionate is quick to judge it? It's the easy way out, right? More admiration and respect goes to those who lose weight on their own and keep it off. Right? Somehow, this is cheating?
 
It's cheating to sacrifice 80% of a vital organ for the REST of my LIFE? It's the easy way out to never get to enjoy a big Thanksgiving meal with my family EVER again? I'm taking a short cut by undergoing general anesthesia and getting punctured - not once - but five times in the gut? It's just a vacation for me knowing my hair is going to fall out and I can only hope it grows back?
 
Right. Still, I feel the social stigma of the shame that goes with. Today, I've been reflecting on this. And this is the peace I'm making with it.
 
Society says they admire a person who loses weight "on their own." This includes people using appetite suppressants. An appetite suppressant is just a tool to prop them up, but THEY are the ones doing the HARD work. THEY are having to change their eating habits and choices. They couldn't do it without the appetite suppressant. It is a needed tool to accomplish their ultimate goal - lose weight.
 
The sleeve IS AN APPETITE SUPPRESSANT. The difference is, IT actually WORKS, and works for the long-term FAR FAR FAR better than any prescription drug that is swallowed. And, I'm not adding chemicals to my body. I'm not forgetting to take it, or changing my mind about taking it, or dealing with unpleasant side effects. I have an appetite suppressant THAT REALLY WORKS! And, after the weight comes off, I won't rebound like most people do who "do it themselves" (according to John Q Public).
 
So, I am thinking that we Sleevers have a responsibility to TEACH others. We have every right to hold our heads up with pride for being COURAGEOUS ENOUGH to make this lifelong commitment to change a lifelong brainwashing about healthy-eating and healthy-living. I refuse to accept any snide remarks from anyone. I will communicate pity to them for their ignorance and lack of evolving. And, I'll certainly offer to enlighten them on how one should think about their health going into the 21st Century.
 
Sleeving isn't just giving me my life back. It is SAVING my life. I'm not ashamed of myself. I'm PROUD of me! I found a RELIABLE tool to use to lose weight. The most reliable tool available.
 
This is the hardest work I've ever loved!

"It ain't over till the fat lady sings"
 
So, I think I'll write a song about this struggle and drama and love/hate relationship with food and my experiences with being obese....errr, I'm FAT...then I'll sing it and it'll be OVER. Ha ha ha... well, maybe not.
 
Maybe I'll change the saying to "It ain't over till the fat lady sleeves!"
 
There are so many things I can't do, or choose not to do because of my weight. It's like a prison in ways (weighs)..and self-imposed sometimes, other times because of things I can't control.
 
Some things are just literally impossible to do. Like running, fitting into a roller coaster seat, etc. Other things I won't do because it embarrasses me to do it or I'm afraid of being judged (wearing shorts, having my picture taken) Silly and sad and vain at times, but true.
 
Singing is one of those things in my life that people say I should do more of. Why don't I?
 
It's because of my weight. I absolutely LOVE to sing, and I believe I'm pretty good at it. My husband even bought me a guitar last Christmas and I attempted to learn to play it three or four times till it made me cry trying to hold it and play it with nearly no lap and a belly that looks like I'm about 7 months pregnant. Then, of course, I feel guilty because it looks like I didn't totally adore him for buying it for me - he loves me to sing.
 
Of course, being overweight doesn't prevent me from singing, physically speaking, other than I seem to have more limits on my lung capacity. There is, however, the lack of energy, and being depressed about being unable to lose weight without WLS and be healthy and realizing how it affects my family and my goals and our future... all add up to mean I don't feel much like singing these days. I admit the way I look affects my self acceptance and esteem. What's there to sing about? Yeah, and the occasional pity party.
 
So, WLS is my "swan song"...lol. I'm gonna be the fat lady singing that my losing battle with FAT is OVER. I'm gonna use this WLS tool to kick the BUTT of obesity in my life!
 
And, this got me to thinking about all those "little things" and "big things" I will be so very happy to do again, or things that will be different (in a good way), whether it's because of the physical limits, or because I choose not to because of my weight and size and my feelings of guilt and frustration for not keeping myself healthy and fit.
 
So, the parts of my life or things that will change or improve when I am at my healthy goal weight --- (from 295 to 150-ish)
 
Energy - Hugs - Clothing - Shoes - Less pain - Marriage - Travel - Sleep - Pictures - Singing - Swelling - Exercise - Activities - Social life - Family get-togethers - Summertime - well, here's some detail...in no particular order and by no means complete:
 
1. I can walk into a "normal people" department store and find a cute dress that fits me. How happy I will feel... because I will always remember what it was like before, at 300 lbs....
 
(No more crying in the dressing room, I have to get a bigger size? good grief, how hard it is to
move around just to change clothes because I'm sweating and it's a small space and the mirror
is mean to me.)
 
2. I can wear cute shoes. I can wear strappy sandals. I can wear heels. I can put shoes on without holding my breath.
 
(No more "supportive" shoes for plantar faciitis-hopefully, so no more heel pain and knee pain,
hip pain that presently prevent the heels and cute shoes I want to wear)
 
3. I can sleep.. fall asleep for a nap anywhere... spend the night anywhere. Sleep will be good.
 
(No more CPAP needed. Sleep Apnea cured.)
 
4. Climb stairs, walk fast, walk all day shopping
 
(No more getting totally out of breath to the point I black out or wheezing like I am dying)
 
5. Fit in things/seats.... - be it plane, train, roller coaster... or restaurant booth, movie theater, desk chair, swing, stadium seat.
 
(No more fear of breaking a chair, not fitting and being told I'm too heavy, no more pain in chairs
that are not big enough for me, no fear of the terribly judgmental looks from passengers on a
plane or train as they see me get on - hoping I'm not sitting next to them...uugghh)
 
6. ENERGY ... Oh my, that one applies to so many areas - or every area of life.
 
7. Sex ... I'll leave the details unsaid - but this is a priority. It's gonna be better than my present weight allows it to be.
 
8. Mom & Grandmother things - My grown children are close to marrying age and in serious relationships which means upcoming weddings and not too many years till they'll be having kids, too. The thought of being healthy, energetic and active for the future is great motivation here too.
 
9. Long life - My husband and I have been married three years this July. It's not our first go-around, and we have a LOT of things to enjoy as we grow together and we want a long, enjoyable future - not one filled with pain, health problems and limitations.
 
10. I'll SING - I have committed to pursue this talent in a way that will be personally fulfilling and hopefully inspirational. It's not that I can't sing now, while I'm overweight... but I feel as though losing my excess weight will be like a curtain lifting to reveal the "me" I've been all along, but finally I admitted needing help to find again.
 
So many more... but for now, that's what I'll remind myself of today. This is why the surgery will be worth it. The pain, the challenge, the new habits, the struggles, the day to day choices, the realization and commitment to the lifestyle changes, and the milestones that may come slowly.
 
 
Flutterby (it's gotta be what butterflies were really called first... there it goes, fluttering by) and I'm coming out of this cocoon too... soon!

"It ain't over till the fat lady sings"
 
So, I think I'll write a song about this struggle and drama and love/hate relationship with food and my experiences with being obese....errr, I'm FAT...then I'll sing it and it'll be OVER. Ha ha ha... well, maybe not.
 
Maybe I'll change the saying to "It ain't over till the fat lady sleeves!"
 
There are so many things I can't do, or choose not to do because of my weight. It's like a prison in ways (weighs)..and self-imposed sometimes, other times because of things I can't control.
 
Some things are just literally impossible to do. Like running, fitting into a roller coaster seat, etc. Other things I won't do because it embarrasses me to do it or I'm afraid of being judged (wearing shorts, having my picture taken) Silly and sad and vain at times, but true.
 
Singing is one of those things in my life that people say I should do more of. Why don't I?
 
It's because of my weight. I absolutely LOVE to sing, and I believe I'm pretty good at it. My husband even bought me a guitar last Christmas and I attempted to learn to play it three or four times till it made me cry trying to hold it and play it with nearly no lap and a belly that looks like I'm about 7 months pregnant. Then, of course, I feel guilty because it looks like I didn't totally adore him for buying it for me - he loves me to sing.
 
Of course, being overweight doesn't prevent me from singing, physically speaking, other than I seem to have more limits on my lung capacity. There is, however, the lack of energy, and being depressed about being unable to lose weight without WLS and be healthy and realizing how it affects my family and my goals and our future... all add up to mean I don't feel much like singing these days. I admit the way I look affects my self acceptance and esteem. What's there to sing about? Yeah, and the occasional pity party.
 
So, WLS is my "swan song"...lol. I'm gonna be the fat lady singing that my losing battle with FAT is OVER. I'm gonna use this WLS tool to kick the BUTT of obesity in my life!
 
And, this got me to thinking about all those "little things" and "big things" I will be so very happy to do again, or things that will be different (in a good way), whether it's because of the physical limits, or because I choose not to because of my weight and size and my feelings of guilt and frustration for not keeping myself healthy and fit.
 
So, the parts of my life or things that will change or improve when I am at my healthy goal weight --- (from 295 to 150-ish)
 
Energy - Hugs - Clothing - Shoes - Less pain - Marriage - Travel - Sleep - Pictures - Singing - Swelling - Exercise - Activities - Social life - Family get-togethers - Summertime - well, here's some detail...in no particular order and by no means complete:
 
1. I can walk into a "normal people" department store and find a cute dress that fits me. How happy I will feel... because I will always remember what it was like before, at 300 lbs....
 
(No more crying in the dressing room, I have to get a bigger size? good grief, how hard it is to
move around just to change clothes because I'm sweating and it's a small space and the mirror
is mean to me.)
 
2. I can wear cute shoes. I can wear strappy sandals. I can wear heels. I can put shoes on without holding my breath.
 
(No more "supportive" shoes for plantar faciitis-hopefully, so no more heel pain and knee pain,
hip pain that presently prevent the heels and cute shoes I want to wear)
 
3. I can sleep.. fall asleep for a nap anywhere... spend the night anywhere. Sleep will be good.
 
(No more CPAP needed. Sleep Apnea cured.)
 
4. Climb stairs, walk fast, walk all day shopping
 
(No more getting totally out of breath to the point I black out or wheezing like I am dying)
 
5. Fit in things/seats.... - be it plane, train, roller coaster... or restaurant booth, movie theater, desk chair, swing, stadium seat.
 
(No more fear of breaking a chair, not fitting and being told I'm too heavy, no more pain in chairs
that are not big enough for me, no fear of the terribly judgmental looks from passengers on a
plane or train as they see me get on - hoping I'm not sitting next to them...uugghh)
 
6. ENERGY ... Oh my, that one applies to so many areas - or every area of life.
 
7. Sex ... I'll leave the details unsaid - but this is a priority. It's gonna be better than my present weight allows it to be.
 
8. Mom & Grandmother things - My grown children are close to marrying age and in serious relationships which means upcoming weddings and not too many years till they'll be having kids, too. The thought of being healthy, energetic and active for the future is great motivation here too.
 
9. Long life - My husband and I have been married three years this July. It's not our first go-around, and we have a LOT of things to enjoy as we grow together and we want a long, enjoyable future - not one filled with pain, health problems and limitations.
 
10. I'll SING - I have committed to pursue this talent in a way that will be personally fulfilling and hopefully inspirational. It's not that I can't sing now, while I'm overweight... but I feel as though losing my excess weight will be like a curtain lifting to reveal the "me" I've been all along, but finally I admitted needing help to find again.
 
So many more... but for now, that's what I'll remind myself of today. This is why the surgery will be worth it. The pain, the challenge, the new habits, the struggles, the day to day choices, the realization and commitment to the lifestyle changes, and the milestones that may come slowly.
 
 
Flutterby (it's gotta be what butterflies were really called first... there it goes, fluttering by) and I'm coming out of this cocoon too... soon!

"It ain't over till the fat lady sings"
 
So, I think I'll write a song about this struggle and drama and love/hate relationship with food and my experiences with being obese....errr, I'm FAT...then I'll sing it and it'll be OVER. Ha ha ha... well, maybe not.
 
Maybe I'll change the saying to "It ain't over till the fat lady sleeves!"
 
There are so many things I can't do, or choose not to do because of my weight. It's like a prison in ways (weighs)..and self-imposed sometimes, other times because of things I can't control.
 
Some things are just literally impossible to do. Like running, fitting into a roller coaster seat, etc. Other things I won't do because it embarrasses me to do it or I'm afraid of being judged (wearing shorts, having my picture taken) Silly and sad and vain at times, but true.
 
Singing is one of those things in my life that people say I should do more of. Why don't I?
 
It's because of my weight. I absolutely LOVE to sing, and I believe I'm pretty good at it. My husband even bought me a guitar last Christmas and I attempted to learn to play it three or four times till it made me cry trying to hold it and play it with nearly no lap and a belly that looks like I'm about 7 months pregnant. Then, of course, I feel guilty because it looks like I didn't totally adore him for buying it for me - he loves me to sing.
 
Of course, being overweight doesn't prevent me from singing, physically speaking, other than I seem to have more limits on my lung capacity. There is, however, the lack of energy, and being depressed about being unable to lose weight without WLS and be healthy and realizing how it affects my family and my goals and our future... all add up to mean I don't feel much like singing these days. I admit the way I look affects my self acceptance and esteem. What's there to sing about? Yeah, and the occasional pity party.
 
So, WLS is my "swan song"...lol. I'm gonna be the fat lady singing that my losing battle with FAT is OVER. I'm gonna use this WLS tool to kick the BUTT of obesity in my life!
 
And, this got me to thinking about all those "little things" and "big things" I will be so very happy to do again, or things that will be different (in a good way), whether it's because of the physical limits, or because I choose not to because of my weight and size and my feelings of guilt and frustration for not keeping myself healthy and fit.
 
So, the parts of my life or things that will change or improve when I am at my healthy goal weight --- (from 295 to 150-ish)
 
Energy - Hugs - Clothing - Shoes - Less pain - Marriage - Travel - Sleep - Pictures - Singing - Swelling - Exercise - Activities - Social life - Family get-togethers - Summertime - well, here's some detail...in no particular order and by no means complete:
 
1. I can walk into a "normal people" department store and find a cute dress that fits me. How happy I will feel... because I will always remember what it was like before, at 300 lbs....
 
(No more crying in the dressing room, I have to get a bigger size? good grief, how hard it is to
move around just to change clothes because I'm sweating and it's a small space and the mirror
is mean to me.)
 
2. I can wear cute shoes. I can wear strappy sandals. I can wear heels. I can put shoes on without holding my breath.
 
(No more "supportive" shoes for plantar faciitis-hopefully, so no more heel pain and knee pain,
hip pain that presently prevent the heels and cute shoes I want to wear)
 
3. I can sleep.. fall asleep for a nap anywhere... spend the night anywhere. Sleep will be good.
 
(No more CPAP needed. Sleep Apnea cured.)
 
4. Climb stairs, walk fast, walk all day shopping
 
(No more getting totally out of breath to the point I black out or wheezing like I am dying)
 
5. Fit in things/seats.... - be it plane, train, roller coaster... or restaurant booth, movie theater, desk chair, swing, stadium seat.
 
(No more fear of breaking a chair, not fitting and being told I'm too heavy, no more pain in chairs
that are not big enough for me, no fear of the terribly judgmental looks from passengers on a
plane or train as they see me get on - hoping I'm not sitting next to them...uugghh)
 
6. ENERGY ... Oh my, that one applies to so many areas - or every area of life.
 
7. Sex ... I'll leave the details unsaid - but this is a priority. It's gonna be better than my present weight allows it to be.
 
8. Mom & Grandmother things - My grown children are close to marrying age and in serious relationships which means upcoming weddings and not too many years till they'll be having kids, too. The thought of being healthy, energetic and active for the future is great motivation here too.
 
9. Long life - My husband and I have been married three years this July. It's not our first go-around, and we have a LOT of things to enjoy as we grow together and we want a long, enjoyable future - not one filled with pain, health problems and limitations.
 
10. I'll SING - I have committed to pursue this talent in a way that will be personally fulfilling and hopefully inspirational. It's not that I can't sing now, while I'm overweight... but I feel as though losing my excess weight will be like a curtain lifting to reveal the "me" I've been all along, but finally I admitted needing help to find again.
 
So many more... but for now, that's what I'll remind myself of today. This is why the surgery will be worth it. The pain, the challenge, the new habits, the struggles, the day to day choices, the realization and commitment to the lifestyle changes, and the milestones that may come slowly.
 
 
Flutterby (it's gotta be what butterflies were really called first... there it goes, fluttering by) and I'm coming out of this cocoon too... soon!

How long has it been? How long since I felt like I was the right size and weight and everything about my body was acceptable?
 
And, bigger question... Where did this bloated, waddling, unhealthy, wide loaded woman come from that keeps showing up in my mirror and in pictures that get taken with my family?
 
Looking in the mirror is so hard, especially in the evenings when I'm getting ready for bed and seeing "all my glory" and realizing I really am as big and ugly fat and tired looking as I feel. Arrrrggghhh!
 
Is that really me? How did I let myself get to this point? I sit in a dressing room, my cute little teenage daughter (13) trying on adorable trendy little outfits and dresses. I see her spin and pose as she gets in a pink princess thing. She walks back in to try another one on. I'm sitting on a bench holding several hangers of other dresses and feeling tired, again. I look over at the mirror and see myself and I lose it. I cry and almost start sobbing right then and there. It hurts so bad. I used to look like her and I thought I was fat. Is that what doomed me to this? Was it because I didn't thank God for how I looked then? Did I take it for granted?
 
 
Honestly, I have thought I was fat from eighth grade (5'7", 130 lbs) when I began to get taller and a little wider in the hips than my little petite and pretty and girly classmates. That's the same age as my youngest daughter. I already hear occasional little comments she makes of herself and things that are not just perfect. I want to make her see how beautiful she is and embrace it!
 
When I look back at pictures from that time in my life (high school years), I wanna go back and slap her (myself) silly for not appreciating how pretty I was. I really had such an adorable figure. No, I didn't have much in the way of boobs, but I had curves in other "right places." I got attention from boys. I looked great and was tall and thin really, until I had my second child at 22.
 
In all truth, I know a lot of the explanations and reasons that I am in this place physically. I know there are a variety of things to blame from four pregnancies, perhaps a few medical causes, nutritionally bad choices, laziness, pain, bad marriage, stress, genetics, environment, and probably a few I haven't read about or dealt with yet.
 
Now in the last three years I come to the point where I have these little break downs like in the dressing rooms multiple times, or getting ready for a night out or to go to church and just sit in my closet and cry and hate myself. I've done it getting out of bed (rather, heaving myself out). Mentally being in a state of fury at my limitations that I know are self-imposed when I try to help my daughter move out of her college apartment and I can't even carry a 15 pound box down a flight of stairs without having to rest 10 minutes and huff and puff like I ran a mile.
 
This place is my "low point"... my "end of the rope". I'm at the bottom and exhausted enough to finally admit I need MAJOR HELP. And THAT is what brought me to WLS and specifically VSG.
 
There is a change in my focus that has helped me transition slowly, day by day from disgust with where I let my weight go and my new found hope and belief in myself I have begun to feed little by little with that hope. I can do this... I can do this... I really can be healthy and fit again. There is a tool I can use that I never really considered. Thanks to where I am in my life, the fact that we have good insurance through my husband's job and the support and encouragement he has showered on me constantly... I'm ready.
 
I'm feeling that by this time next year, I'll be looking in mirrors and pictures and saying "WOW, I knew that pretty girl was still in there somewhere under all the fat."

How long has it been? How long since I felt like I was the right size and weight and everything about my body was acceptable?
 
And, bigger question... Where did this bloated, waddling, unhealthy, wide loaded woman come from that keeps showing up in my mirror and in pictures that get taken with my family?
 
Looking in the mirror is so hard, especially in the evenings when I'm getting ready for bed and seeing "all my glory" and realizing I really am as big and ugly fat and tired looking as I feel. Arrrrggghhh!
 
Is that really me? How did I let myself get to this point? I sit in a dressing room, my cute little teenage daughter (13) trying on adorable trendy little outfits and dresses. I see her spin and pose as she gets in a pink princess thing. She walks back in to try another one on. I'm sitting on a bench holding several hangers of other dresses and feeling tired, again. I look over at the mirror and see myself and I lose it. I cry and almost start sobbing right then and there. It hurts so bad. I used to look like her and I thought I was fat. Is that what doomed me to this? Was it because I didn't thank God for how I looked then? Did I take it for granted?
 
 
Honestly, I have thought I was fat from eighth grade (5'7", 130 lbs) when I began to get taller and a little wider in the hips than my little petite and pretty and girly classmates. That's the same age as my youngest daughter. I already hear occasional little comments she makes of herself and things that are not just perfect. I want to make her see how beautiful she is and embrace it!
 
When I look back at pictures from that time in my life (high school years), I wanna go back and slap her (myself) silly for not appreciating how pretty I was. I really had such an adorable figure. No, I didn't have much in the way of boobs, but I had curves in other "right places." I got attention from boys. I looked great and was tall and thin really, until I had my second child at 22.
 
In all truth, I know a lot of the explanations and reasons that I am in this place physically. I know there are a variety of things to blame from four pregnancies, perhaps a few medical causes, nutritionally bad choices, laziness, pain, bad marriage, stress, genetics, environment, and probably a few I haven't read about or dealt with yet.
 
Now in the last three years I come to the point where I have these little break downs like in the dressing rooms multiple times, or getting ready for a night out or to go to church and just sit in my closet and cry and hate myself. I've done it getting out of bed (rather, heaving myself out). Mentally being in a state of fury at my limitations that I know are self-imposed when I try to help my daughter move out of her college apartment and I can't even carry a 15 pound box down a flight of stairs without having to rest 10 minutes and huff and puff like I ran a mile.
 
This place is my "low point"... my "end of the rope". I'm at the bottom and exhausted enough to finally admit I need MAJOR HELP. And THAT is what brought me to WLS and specifically VSG.
 
There is a change in my focus that has helped me transition slowly, day by day from disgust with where I let my weight go and my new found hope and belief in myself I have begun to feed little by little with that hope. I can do this... I can do this... I really can be healthy and fit again. There is a tool I can use that I never really considered. Thanks to where I am in my life, the fact that we have good insurance through my husband's job and the support and encouragement he has showered on me constantly... I'm ready.
 
I'm feeling that by this time next year, I'll be looking in mirrors and pictures and saying "WOW, I knew that pretty girl was still in there somewhere under all the fat."

How long has it been? How long since I felt like I was the right size and weight and everything about my body was acceptable?
 
And, bigger question... Where did this bloated, waddling, unhealthy, wide loaded woman come from that keeps showing up in my mirror and in pictures that get taken with my family?
 
Looking in the mirror is so hard, especially in the evenings when I'm getting ready for bed and seeing "all my glory" and realizing I really am as big and ugly fat and tired looking as I feel. Arrrrggghhh!
 
Is that really me? How did I let myself get to this point? I sit in a dressing room, my cute little teenage daughter (13) trying on adorable trendy little outfits and dresses. I see her spin and pose as she gets in a pink princess thing. She walks back in to try another one on. I'm sitting on a bench holding several hangers of other dresses and feeling tired, again. I look over at the mirror and see myself and I lose it. I cry and almost start sobbing right then and there. It hurts so bad. I used to look like her and I thought I was fat. Is that what doomed me to this? Was it because I didn't thank God for how I looked then? Did I take it for granted?
 
 
Honestly, I have thought I was fat from eighth grade (5'7", 130 lbs) when I began to get taller and a little wider in the hips than my little petite and pretty and girly classmates. That's the same age as my youngest daughter. I already hear occasional little comments she makes of herself and things that are not just perfect. I want to make her see how beautiful she is and embrace it!
 
When I look back at pictures from that time in my life (high school years), I wanna go back and slap her (myself) silly for not appreciating how pretty I was. I really had such an adorable figure. No, I didn't have much in the way of boobs, but I had curves in other "right places." I got attention from boys. I looked great and was tall and thin really, until I had my second child at 22.
 
In all truth, I know a lot of the explanations and reasons that I am in this place physically. I know there are a variety of things to blame from four pregnancies, perhaps a few medical causes, nutritionally bad choices, laziness, pain, bad marriage, stress, genetics, environment, and probably a few I haven't read about or dealt with yet.
 
Now in the last three years I come to the point where I have these little break downs like in the dressing rooms multiple times, or getting ready for a night out or to go to church and just sit in my closet and cry and hate myself. I've done it getting out of bed (rather, heaving myself out). Mentally being in a state of fury at my limitations that I know are self-imposed when I try to help my daughter move out of her college apartment and I can't even carry a 15 pound box down a flight of stairs without having to rest 10 minutes and huff and puff like I ran a mile.
 
This place is my "low point"... my "end of the rope". I'm at the bottom and exhausted enough to finally admit I need MAJOR HELP. And THAT is what brought me to WLS and specifically VSG.
 
There is a change in my focus that has helped me transition slowly, day by day from disgust with where I let my weight go and my new found hope and belief in myself I have begun to feed little by little with that hope. I can do this... I can do this... I really can be healthy and fit again. There is a tool I can use that I never really considered. Thanks to where I am in my life, the fact that we have good insurance through my husband's job and the support and encouragement he has showered on me constantly... I'm ready.
 
I'm feeling that by this time next year, I'll be looking in mirrors and pictures and saying "WOW, I knew that pretty girl was still in there somewhere under all the fat."

How long has it been? How long since I felt like I was the right size and weight and everything about my body was acceptable?
 
And, bigger question... Where did this bloated, waddling, unhealthy, wide loaded woman come from that keeps showing up in my mirror and in pictures that get taken with my family?
 
Looking in the mirror is so hard, especially in the evenings when I'm getting ready for bed and seeing "all my glory" and realizing I really am as big and ugly fat and tired looking as I feel. Arrrrggghhh!
 
Is that really me? How did I let myself get to this point? I sit in a dressing room, my cute little teenage daughter (13) trying on adorable trendy little outfits and dresses. I see her spin and pose as she gets in a pink princess thing. She walks back in to try another one on. I'm sitting on a bench holding several hangers of other dresses and feeling tired, again. I look over at the mirror and see myself and I lose it. I cry and almost start sobbing right then and there. It hurts so bad. I used to look like her and I thought I was fat. Is that what doomed me to this? Was it because I didn't thank God for how I looked then? Did I take it for granted?
 
 
Honestly, I have thought I was fat from eighth grade (5'7", 130 lbs) when I began to get taller and a little wider in the hips than my little petite and pretty and girly classmates. That's the same age as my youngest daughter. I already hear occasional little comments she makes of herself and things that are not just perfect. I want to make her see how beautiful she is and embrace it!
 
When I look back at pictures from that time in my life (high school years), I wanna go back and slap her (myself) silly for not appreciating how pretty I was. I really had such an adorable figure. No, I didn't have much in the way of boobs, but I had curves in other "right places." I got attention from boys. I looked great and was tall and thin really, until I had my second child at 22.
 
In all truth, I know a lot of the explanations and reasons that I am in this place physically. I know there are a variety of things to blame from four pregnancies, perhaps a few medical causes, nutritionally bad choices, laziness, pain, bad marriage, stress, genetics, environment, and probably a few I haven't read about or dealt with yet.
 
Now in the last three years I come to the point where I have these little break downs like in the dressing rooms multiple times, or getting ready for a night out or to go to church and just sit in my closet and cry and hate myself. I've done it getting out of bed (rather, heaving myself out). Mentally being in a state of fury at my limitations that I know are self-imposed when I try to help my daughter move out of her college apartment and I can't even carry a 15 pound box down a flight of stairs without having to rest 10 minutes and huff and puff like I ran a mile.
 
This place is my "low point"... my "end of the rope". I'm at the bottom and exhausted enough to finally admit I need MAJOR HELP. And THAT is what brought me to WLS and specifically VSG.
 
There is a change in my focus that has helped me transition slowly, day by day from disgust with where I let my weight go and my new found hope and belief in myself I have begun to feed little by little with that hope. I can do this... I can do this... I really can be healthy and fit again. There is a tool I can use that I never really considered. Thanks to where I am in my life, the fact that we have good insurance through my husband's job and the support and encouragement he has showered on me constantly... I'm ready.
 
I'm feeling that by this time next year, I'll be looking in mirrors and pictures and saying "WOW, I knew that pretty girl was still in there somewhere under all the fat."

How long has it been? How long since I felt like I was the right size and weight and everything about my body was acceptable?
 
And, bigger question... Where did this bloated, waddling, unhealthy, wide loaded woman come from that keeps showing up in my mirror and in pictures that get taken with my family?
 
Looking in the mirror is so hard, especially in the evenings when I'm getting ready for bed and seeing "all my glory" and realizing I really am as big and ugly fat and tired looking as I feel. Arrrrggghhh!
 
Is that really me? How did I let myself get to this point? I sit in a dressing room, my cute little teenage daughter (13) trying on adorable trendy little outfits and dresses. I see her spin and pose as she gets in a pink princess thing. She walks back in to try another one on. I'm sitting on a bench holding several hangers of other dresses and feeling tired, again. I look over at the mirror and see myself and I lose it. I cry and almost start sobbing right then and there. It hurts so bad. I used to look like her and I thought I was fat. Is that what doomed me to this? Was it because I didn't thank God for how I looked then? Did I take it for granted?
 
 
Honestly, I have thought I was fat from eighth grade (5'7", 130 lbs) when I began to get taller and a little wider in the hips than my little petite and pretty and girly classmates. That's the same age as my youngest daughter. I already hear occasional little comments she makes of herself and things that are not just perfect. I want to make her see how beautiful she is and embrace it!
 
When I look back at pictures from that time in my life (high school years), I wanna go back and slap her (myself) silly for not appreciating how pretty I was. I really had such an adorable figure. No, I didn't have much in the way of boobs, but I had curves in other "right places." I got attention from boys. I looked great and was tall and thin really, until I had my second child at 22.
 
In all truth, I know a lot of the explanations and reasons that I am in this place physically. I know there are a variety of things to blame from four pregnancies, perhaps a few medical causes, nutritionally bad choices, laziness, pain, bad marriage, stress, genetics, environment, and probably a few I haven't read about or dealt with yet.
 
Now in the last three years I come to the point where I have these little break downs like in the dressing rooms multiple times, or getting ready for a night out or to go to church and just sit in my closet and cry and hate myself. I've done it getting out of bed (rather, heaving myself out). Mentally being in a state of fury at my limitations that I know are self-imposed when I try to help my daughter move out of her college apartment and I can't even carry a 15 pound box down a flight of stairs without having to rest 10 minutes and huff and puff like I ran a mile.
 
This place is my "low point"... my "end of the rope". I'm at the bottom and exhausted enough to finally admit I need MAJOR HELP. And THAT is what brought me to WLS and specifically VSG.
 
There is a change in my focus that has helped me transition slowly, day by day from disgust with where I let my weight go and my new found hope and belief in myself I have begun to feed little by little with that hope. I can do this... I can do this... I really can be healthy and fit again. There is a tool I can use that I never really considered. Thanks to where I am in my life, the fact that we have good insurance through my husband's job and the support and encouragement he has showered on me constantly... I'm ready.
 
I'm feeling that by this time next year, I'll be looking in mirrors and pictures and saying "WOW, I knew that pretty girl was still in there somewhere under all the fat."

How long has it been? How long since I felt like I was the right size and weight and everything about my body was acceptable?
 
And, bigger question... Where did this bloated, waddling, unhealthy, wide loaded woman come from that keeps showing up in my mirror and in pictures that get taken with my family?
 
Looking in the mirror is so hard, especially in the evenings when I'm getting ready for bed and seeing "all my glory" and realizing I really am as big and ugly fat and tired looking as I feel. Arrrrggghhh!
 
Is that really me? How did I let myself get to this point? I sit in a dressing room, my cute little teenage daughter (13) trying on adorable trendy little outfits and dresses. I see her spin and pose as she gets in a pink princess thing. She walks back in to try another one on. I'm sitting on a bench holding several hangers of other dresses and feeling tired, again. I look over at the mirror and see myself and I lose it. I cry and almost start sobbing right then and there. It hurts so bad. I used to look like her and I thought I was fat. Is that what doomed me to this? Was it because I didn't thank God for how I looked then? Did I take it for granted?
 
 
Honestly, I have thought I was fat from eighth grade (5'7", 130 lbs) when I began to get taller and a little wider in the hips than my little petite and pretty and girly classmates. That's the same age as my youngest daughter. I already hear occasional little comments she makes of herself and things that are not just perfect. I want to make her see how beautiful she is and embrace it!
 
When I look back at pictures from that time in my life (high school years), I wanna go back and slap her (myself) silly for not appreciating how pretty I was. I really had such an adorable figure. No, I didn't have much in the way of boobs, but I had curves in other "right places." I got attention from boys. I looked great and was tall and thin really, until I had my second child at 22.
 
In all truth, I know a lot of the explanations and reasons that I am in this place physically. I know there are a variety of things to blame from four pregnancies, perhaps a few medical causes, nutritionally bad choices, laziness, pain, bad marriage, stress, genetics, environment, and probably a few I haven't read about or dealt with yet.
 
Now in the last three years I come to the point where I have these little break downs like in the dressing rooms multiple times, or getting ready for a night out or to go to church and just sit in my closet and cry and hate myself. I've done it getting out of bed (rather, heaving myself out). Mentally being in a state of fury at my limitations that I know are self-imposed when I try to help my daughter move out of her college apartment and I can't even carry a 15 pound box down a flight of stairs without having to rest 10 minutes and huff and puff like I ran a mile.
 
This place is my "low point"... my "end of the rope". I'm at the bottom and exhausted enough to finally admit I need MAJOR HELP. And THAT is what brought me to WLS and specifically VSG.
 
There is a change in my focus that has helped me transition slowly, day by day from disgust with where I let my weight go and my new found hope and belief in myself I have begun to feed little by little with that hope. I can do this... I can do this... I really can be healthy and fit again. There is a tool I can use that I never really considered. Thanks to where I am in my life, the fact that we have good insurance through my husband's job and the support and encouragement he has showered on me constantly... I'm ready.
 
I'm feeling that by this time next year, I'll be looking in mirrors and pictures and saying "WOW, I knew that pretty girl was still in there somewhere under all the fat."

How long has it been? How long since I felt like I was the right size and weight and everything about my body was acceptable?
 
And, bigger question... Where did this bloated, waddling, unhealthy, wide loaded woman come from that keeps showing up in my mirror and in pictures that get taken with my family?
 
Looking in the mirror is so hard, especially in the evenings when I'm getting ready for bed and seeing "all my glory" and realizing I really am as big and ugly fat and tired looking as I feel. Arrrrggghhh!
 
Is that really me? How did I let myself get to this point? I sit in a dressing room, my cute little teenage daughter (13) trying on adorable trendy little outfits and dresses. I see her spin and pose as she gets in a pink princess thing. She walks back in to try another one on. I'm sitting on a bench holding several hangers of other dresses and feeling tired, again. I look over at the mirror and see myself and I lose it. I cry and almost start sobbing right then and there. It hurts so bad. I used to look like her and I thought I was fat. Is that what doomed me to this? Was it because I didn't thank God for how I looked then? Did I take it for granted?
 
 
Honestly, I have thought I was fat from eighth grade (5'7", 130 lbs) when I began to get taller and a little wider in the hips than my little petite and pretty and girly classmates. That's the same age as my youngest daughter. I already hear occasional little comments she makes of herself and things that are not just perfect. I want to make her see how beautiful she is and embrace it!
 
When I look back at pictures from that time in my life (high school years), I wanna go back and slap her (myself) silly for not appreciating how pretty I was. I really had such an adorable figure. No, I didn't have much in the way of boobs, but I had curves in other "right places." I got attention from boys. I looked great and was tall and thin really, until I had my second child at 22.
 
In all truth, I know a lot of the explanations and reasons that I am in this place physically. I know there are a variety of things to blame from four pregnancies, perhaps a few medical causes, nutritionally bad choices, laziness, pain, bad marriage, stress, genetics, environment, and probably a few I haven't read about or dealt with yet.
 
Now in the last three years I come to the point where I have these little break downs like in the dressing rooms multiple times, or getting ready for a night out or to go to church and just sit in my closet and cry and hate myself. I've done it getting out of bed (rather, heaving myself out). Mentally being in a state of fury at my limitations that I know are self-imposed when I try to help my daughter move out of her college apartment and I can't even carry a 15 pound box down a flight of stairs without having to rest 10 minutes and huff and puff like I ran a mile.
 
This place is my "low point"... my "end of the rope". I'm at the bottom and exhausted enough to finally admit I need MAJOR HELP. And THAT is what brought me to WLS and specifically VSG.
 
There is a change in my focus that has helped me transition slowly, day by day from disgust with where I let my weight go and my new found hope and belief in myself I have begun to feed little by little with that hope. I can do this... I can do this... I really can be healthy and fit again. There is a tool I can use that I never really considered. Thanks to where I am in my life, the fact that we have good insurance through my husband's job and the support and encouragement he has showered on me constantly... I'm ready.
 
I'm feeling that by this time next year, I'll be looking in mirrors and pictures and saying "WOW, I knew that pretty girl was still in there somewhere under all the fat."

How long has it been? How long since I felt like I was the right size and weight and everything about my body was acceptable?
 
And, bigger question... Where did this bloated, waddling, unhealthy, wide loaded woman come from that keeps showing up in my mirror and in pictures that get taken with my family?
 
Looking in the mirror is so hard, especially in the evenings when I'm getting ready for bed and seeing "all my glory" and realizing I really am as big and ugly fat and tired looking as I feel. Arrrrggghhh!
 
Is that really me? How did I let myself get to this point? I sit in a dressing room, my cute little teenage daughter (13) trying on adorable trendy little outfits and dresses. I see her spin and pose as she gets in a pink princess thing. She walks back in to try another one on. I'm sitting on a bench holding several hangers of other dresses and feeling tired, again. I look over at the mirror and see myself and I lose it. I cry and almost start sobbing right then and there. It hurts so bad. I used to look like her and I thought I was fat. Is that what doomed me to this? Was it because I didn't thank God for how I looked then? Did I take it for granted?
 
 
Honestly, I have thought I was fat from eighth grade (5'7", 130 lbs) when I began to get taller and a little wider in the hips than my little petite and pretty and girly classmates. That's the same age as my youngest daughter. I already hear occasional little comments she makes of herself and things that are not just perfect. I want to make her see how beautiful she is and embrace it!
 
When I look back at pictures from that time in my life (high school years), I wanna go back and slap her (myself) silly for not appreciating how pretty I was. I really had such an adorable figure. No, I didn't have much in the way of boobs, but I had curves in other "right places." I got attention from boys. I looked great and was tall and thin really, until I had my second child at 22.
 
In all truth, I know a lot of the explanations and reasons that I am in this place physically. I know there are a variety of things to blame from four pregnancies, perhaps a few medical causes, nutritionally bad choices, laziness, pain, bad marriage, stress, genetics, environment, and probably a few I haven't read about or dealt with yet.
 
Now in the last three years I come to the point where I have these little break downs like in the dressing rooms multiple times, or getting ready for a night out or to go to church and just sit in my closet and cry and hate myself. I've done it getting out of bed (rather, heaving myself out). Mentally being in a state of fury at my limitations that I know are self-imposed when I try to help my daughter move out of her college apartment and I can't even carry a 15 pound box down a flight of stairs without having to rest 10 minutes and huff and puff like I ran a mile.
 
This place is my "low point"... my "end of the rope". I'm at the bottom and exhausted enough to finally admit I need MAJOR HELP. And THAT is what brought me to WLS and specifically VSG.
 
There is a change in my focus that has helped me transition slowly, day by day from disgust with where I let my weight go and my new found hope and belief in myself I have begun to feed little by little with that hope. I can do this... I can do this... I really can be healthy and fit again. There is a tool I can use that I never really considered. Thanks to where I am in my life, the fact that we have good insurance through my husband's job and the support and encouragement he has showered on me constantly... I'm ready.
 
I'm feeling that by this time next year, I'll be looking in mirrors and pictures and saying "WOW, I knew that pretty girl was still in there somewhere under all the fat."

How long has it been? How long since I felt like I was the right size and weight and everything about my body was acceptable?
 
And, bigger question... Where did this bloated, waddling, unhealthy, wide loaded woman come from that keeps showing up in my mirror and in pictures that get taken with my family?
 
Looking in the mirror is so hard, especially in the evenings when I'm getting ready for bed and seeing "all my glory" and realizing I really am as big and ugly fat and tired looking as I feel. Arrrrggghhh!
 
Is that really me? How did I let myself get to this point? I sit in a dressing room, my cute little teenage daughter (13) trying on adorable trendy little outfits and dresses. I see her spin and pose as she gets in a pink princess thing. She walks back in to try another one on. I'm sitting on a bench holding several hangers of other dresses and feeling tired, again. I look over at the mirror and see myself and I lose it. I cry and almost start sobbing right then and there. It hurts so bad. I used to look like her and I thought I was fat. Is that what doomed me to this? Was it because I didn't thank God for how I looked then? Did I take it for granted?
 
 
Honestly, I have thought I was fat from eighth grade (5'7", 130 lbs) when I began to get taller and a little wider in the hips than my little petite and pretty and girly classmates. That's the same age as my youngest daughter. I already hear occasional little comments she makes of herself and things that are not just perfect. I want to make her see how beautiful she is and embrace it!
 
When I look back at pictures from that time in my life (high school years), I wanna go back and slap her (myself) silly for not appreciating how pretty I was. I really had such an adorable figure. No, I didn't have much in the way of boobs, but I had curves in other "right places." I got attention from boys. I looked great and was tall and thin really, until I had my second child at 22.
 
In all truth, I know a lot of the explanations and reasons that I am in this place physically. I know there are a variety of things to blame from four pregnancies, perhaps a few medical causes, nutritionally bad choices, laziness, pain, bad marriage, stress, genetics, environment, and probably a few I haven't read about or dealt with yet.
 
Now in the last three years I come to the point where I have these little break downs like in the dressing rooms multiple times, or getting ready for a night out or to go to church and just sit in my closet and cry and hate myself. I've done it getting out of bed (rather, heaving myself out). Mentally being in a state of fury at my limitations that I know are self-imposed when I try to help my daughter move out of her college apartment and I can't even carry a 15 pound box down a flight of stairs without having to rest 10 minutes and huff and puff like I ran a mile.
 
This place is my "low point"... my "end of the rope". I'm at the bottom and exhausted enough to finally admit I need MAJOR HELP. And THAT is what brought me to WLS and specifically VSG.
 
There is a change in my focus that has helped me transition slowly, day by day from disgust with where I let my weight go and my new found hope and belief in myself I have begun to feed little by little with that hope. I can do this... I can do this... I really can be healthy and fit again. There is a tool I can use that I never really considered. Thanks to where I am in my life, the fact that we have good insurance through my husband's job and the support and encouragement he has showered on me constantly... I'm ready.
 
I'm feeling that by this time next year, I'll be looking in mirrors and pictures and saying "WOW, I knew that pretty girl was still in there somewhere under all the fat."