The Day Before The Day Before Deja’vu

I have been here before. Like many many MANY times before. I was here almost 4 years ago…I am just shy of two months exactly. On May 24th, 2015 I wrote about my feelings and state of mind the day before I started my 30/10 journey. Unfuckingbelievable. This sucks…like hardcore sucks. Deja’vu is am amazingly awful feeling because at the same time that warm feeling of familiarity washes over your memories, you get bitch-slapped by the reality fairy who reminds you that are living your EXACT SAME LIFE only YEARS LATER. Image result for sarcastic yeah gifWhat in the HELL have you been doing with your life that you have literally gone nowhere in years? Am I legit living in the matrix? Did I take the blue pill? Your brain is literally telling you that you have run in a big ass giant circle and you have just closed that circle…in the exact spot where you started that circle. Ssshhhiiitttttt. If I was Buddhist or something I am sure the Buddha would have some cool thing to teach me about life and impermanence and suffering and walking yourself home…blah blah blah. I think the Buddha would have been knocked out of enlightenment by deja’vu’s bitch slap.

I could put a positive spin on this. I could say that I have “learned so much about my addiction, my struggle…” I could describe to you all of the research and medical testing I have been through to come to the conclusion that “Well…it could be your weight?”. I could share with you an amazing keto, Whole 30, paleo, recipe for “breadsticks” that you could *literally* dig a grave with because I have burned them so many times in the oven undertakers call me “The Baker”. All of these things ARE true. But I am angry. And pissed. So no spin here…you are in the “No Spin Zone” as the living dead on Fox News would say. I am just really tired. I have never understood the concept of “give it to Jesus” until now. I just can’t do this anymore. I have tried everything three times over. This shit is bigger than me and I am ready for something else to pick up the burden. So…I am giving it all to the surgeon to let him work his sterilized robotic arms on my insides so that I might be forgiven and reborn.

I am trying really hard to go into this with no expectations about anything. Well…I take that back. I expect to wake up after surgery missing 70-90% of my stomach. But I have no expectations about the procedure or recovery, or life after surgery in the short and long term. I am hoping I will open my eyes to a new world on Thursday afternoon…IMG_8142a clean hard drive if you will. With all the new-fangled technology, I know all of my old programs will quickly try to download the latest version of what was on my old hard drive. My focus will be to turn off my personal wi-fi and block those downloads until I am good and ready to DECLINE their new terms of agreement. I know this will not be the reality…that my addiction will still be there and that food temptations will be around every corner and advertisement and social event. I am also constantly reminding myself of the time it took me to get to this weight. I cannot undo all of those years in a few days, weeks, months, or even years. I figure it took me 20 years to get here- from 18 to 38. It is going to take me another 20 to undo all of that learning and living. The bright side here- I did have some fun in those 20 years putting my weight on…I can have fun in my next 20 taking the weight off.

Perhaps one of the reasons that this procedure is so successful because your body has been through something so traumatic and altering it really does trigger a reset. I do know that the real work will begin the moment I feel “fine”.  Today I heard something that might help when the work really begins. For people who have been through bariatric surgery, it can be helpful to create a memory bank- pictures, stories, recollections and feelings from your “fat life”. When the going gets rough, it can be helpful if you have this “bank” to pull from so you don’t start dipping into your savings when really you already have the funds in your checking. I feel like I have a very robust bank account- I have over 44,000 images on my computer and I have a blog that I think has maybe over 500,000 typed words about my struggle with weight. But I don’t know if I have ever described what it feels like to be my size. So here is my descriptive bank deposit:

  • When I sit in an office chair, I think it goes down more than it should. And sometimes, the sides of my body will touch the armrest. Two things that I don’t think happens to healthy people.
  • Sometimes while sitting at the booths in restaurants, my boobs are *literally* resting on the table where my food should go. I have big boobs but if I didn’t have such a thick-ass body those boobies would not be served up like a freaking appetizer. Nobody-except my husband-order that.
  • I was on the hunt for new bar stools for our new house. I found some, but only after I sat in maybe 100 different chairs because they were all too narrow. My husband and I felt like a pimple about to be popped in all 99 chairs. I don’t think most people even think about the width of a barstool…but we do…and that sucks.
  • Sometimes I walk through a door frame and my shoulders brush one side or another….or both sides. I pity any person who needs to share a door frame with me when the big one hits because there ain’t no room in the frame.
  • Have you ever sat through an entire concert, symphony, musical, play, or presentation with one arm around someone’s shoulder because putting your arms down would invade the personal space of the individuals to your right and left? That arm and shoulder burn is real and it sucks.
  • Flying sucks 1000 times more than it should for all of the reasons above.
  • All of those cute crossbody purses and backpacks look like doll clothes on your hulk-like frame. The look on the sales lady’s face at Nordstrom’s is gut-wrenching because she recommended you try on THIS bag because they made it with “extra long straps “. Susan…lets have a talk about “extra long straps”.
  • I am starving and stuffed all at the same time. It is a constant dichotomy of hunger and fear. Why am I hungry? Am I really starving? EXHAUSTING.
  • I could nap at any point in my day because I am exhausted. My sleep apnea has reached DefCon 5…even my dog won’t sleep with me.
  • I have to have a pep talk with myself before looking in a mirror.
  • Despite what KimmyK says, shapewear is NOT comfortable.
  • Taking a full breath only makes me become acutely aware of just how heavy my torso is. My breath is so light until it hits my torso…then it feels like a strongman trying to flip up one of those giant tires.
  • I can never get comfortable. Not in any chair, bench, swing, bed, seat, position. I am always uneasy, uncomfortable, overflowing.

I am sure that as things change, I will be able to identify more descriptive “deposits” to add to my memory bank….all the reasons I feel so good and the underlying causes of that new feeling. But the general theme remains the same; I am uncomfortable in my own skin in all situations and I am tired of feeling that way. I have had enough. I am ready to start drawing new lines instead of closed circles. I don’t even care if the lines are not straight…I just want to start seeing some lines.


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