Well ...

I decided to start a new LJ just for my gastric bypass thoughts. It was getting too hard to keep track of my word journal and I want to be able to update whenever I want from wherever I am at. Before I write where I'm at now, I want to put some of my previous thoughts up.

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Thursday, December 09, 2004
2:35 AM

I think I’ve made the biggest decision of my life. I’ve been thinking about it for years now, but it’s not until now that it’s begun to take shape. I’m talking about having Gastric Bypass Surgery. See, all of my life, I have been overweight. Okay, I’ll stop being PC – I’ve been fat. Ever since I was 8, I’ve had to wear women’s clothes. I’ve now been the same size, give or take a size in my pants, since freshman year in high school. If I get any bigger than I am right now, I can no longer shop in the mall. It’s really disheartening to think about it. I’m only 21 – and I feel like I’m 40. I feel like I’m out of options. I’ve never had a real boyfriend, never been on a real date, never been secure enough to let myself have true fun … hell, I went to the #1 party school in America and I would just pace around the courtyard and pray for the night to be over (or offer to be the DD for the night). I tried the sorority thing, but never fit in. I had a fat roommate, and we hated each other. I had a skinny roommate, and I hated her too in the end.

I think that one of the most degrading moments of my life was walking into a job interview, seeing the people who worked there already, and knowing that I would not get the job because I was fat. After that moment, I knew I had to do something. I’ve tried the no carb thing. I’ve done the working out. I’ve done the point counting. I’ve done the prepared meal thing. It always comes back. My feeling is that being on a diet until you die is not a normal way to live. And I’m not Oprah – I can’t hire a personal chef and a personal trainer. When I’m 35, have kids, a husband and a job (G-d willing), how will I be able to maintain a strict workout regiment and diet? It just is impossible. So for me, after looking into several options, the right option is Gastric Bypass. It might sound drastic, but for someone like me who hates to eat anyway, it seems perfect. For so many reasons.

I can’t wait to walk into Banana Republic and buy a pair of jeans. I can’t wait to take a flight and buckle my seatbelt – and have extra belt. On that same flight, I can’t wait to put down my tray and not have it resting on my stomach. I can’t wait to not be ashamed to wear shorts (I’ve lived in Arizona and Las Vegas for 16 years and have never worn shorts in the summer). I can’t wait to walk down the street and have a guy whistle at me. I can’t wait for a guy to ask for my number. I can’t wait to not be afraid to go on a blind date. I can’t wait to not have to buy men’s clothes just so they’ll fit. I can’t wait to wear a bathing suit without clothes over them. I can’t wait to go to a club and look hot in a halter top and tight pants. I can’t wait to have a guy not tell me “you’re like a sister to me.” I can’t wait to not have to beg a guy friend to be my date to a work party. I can’t wait to wear a skirt that goes above my knees. I can’t wait to have a billion job offers coming my way. I can’t wait to be able to see my feet in their entirety. I can’t wait to not have to pay extra for large sizes. I can’t wait to go to a concert and fit into the seats. I can’t wait to get married. I can’t wait to have children. I CAN’T WAIT TO LIVE.

As I sit here, a 21 year old, in tears, afraid of what my future holds whether or not I have the surgery, I think … what could I have done differently? Is this all my fault? I don’t think I’ve ever sat down and thought about how I got here, considering everyone in my family is fat.

Diabetes runs in our family (even with the skinny ones), so I never really said to myself, “get thin or you’ll get diabetes.” The doctor told my mom even if she was a size 2, worked out everyday, ate healthy and was in perfect health, she’d still get it because of our family history.

Did I too much fast food? Growing up, McDonald’s was the easy answer. But I never overindulged. Super-sizing became the big thing to do after I was done eating it really (I read “Fast Food Nation” and never ate there again). Junior year of high school I did though – all of those AP study groups and such after school. I remember lots of Coldstone, too. But being partially lactose intolerant, I figured it didn’t count since it wouldn’t stay in. I didn’t eat Krispy Kreme like the rest of the world (I’m allergic to their oil), and I loved getting salads when we went out.

I never really overate. In fact, I’ll be the first to tell you, and my mother would agree, that I underrate. I hate to eat. I always felt, and still feel, that eating food got me this way, why should I keep on doing it? I eat to survive. I don’t enjoy it. Sometimes I’m so robotic in eating that I don’t even realize what I’m eating, I don’t taste the food, I don’t feel anything. People, a lot of times, blame their weight problems on emotional eating. I’m the exact opposite – when I get depressed, I don’t eat. And not on purpose. It’s not like I wake up and say to myself, “I’m depressed today so I’m not going to eat.” My body’s natural reaction to emotional distress is to not be hungry. It’s bizarre honestly. In fact, when I told a friend that I was doing this, she replied, “but how are you going to be able to eat a whole pizza again?” And I replied, “who in their right mind ever does that?!” Apparently, it’s a normal thing. I never once did that. In fact, even though I have the pizza place’s number programmed into my phone during college, I was known for ordering salad and chicken wings. Everyone thought I was nuts! But you know what? I lost 20 pounds my first semester away from home. Granted, in the middle of the semester I had a nervous breakdown, but still – I looked great!

Wednesday, October 26, 2005
7:57 PM

Has it really been almost a year since I wrote about my journey? I guess I didn’t realize how much stuff I was going through. And did I really get that personal? Wow. I should write off the bat that I have officially started the WLS process. I went to my initial seminar and today had my first doctor’s appointment. I need six months of doctor-supervised dieting and weigh-ins, my psych evaluation at five-and-a-half months, and then they’ll process my insurance approval. If I get approved, I’ll have a bunch of blood work, an upper GI, chest x-ray, ultrasound, and then finally, the surgery! It’s crazy to think that in about seven months I’ll start my whole new life. I’m super excited. I’ve been selected in whom I tell, and next year at this time, everyone will know once they see me.

So, I guess this is where I should write about how I came to this place and why I haven’t written in the last 10 months.

Shortly after I last wrote, I spent about three weeks in Vegas to get away from the depression in New York. That was a bad idea. I spent my birthday alone, crying and watching “Anchorman.” I made up my mind to move away from New York, and the day before I was going to head back to get my stuff, I got called for a job interview at the bank I used to work at during college. I wound up landing the position so I decided to stay in NY for a little while.

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Ok, back to the present. Well really, I'm not sure if I should back up or not. MEH ... when I'm in the mood I will. For now, it's all about the present. I'm 2/3 the way done with my pre-op work. At first, I was told I had to have 6 months of weigh-ins and such, but it wound up only being 3 months. So I'm done with 2 months and will have my final weigh in on December 22nd. I've also finished my EKG and my blood work. I've lost about 50 pounds since last January and I feel great. Some people think that I should forget about the surgery and just continue the route I'm taking, but I know it wouldn't work out in the end. Dieting forever does not work. I'm really lucky because I have found a lot of support in my life. My mom is super supportive, and the friends that know are, for the most part, supportive. A few aren't, but they don't understand. D, the guy I'm currently dating, is really supportive and understands since his mom had the surgery. D is a whole entry in itself, which I'll get to later. Actually, I think I'll continue this all later.