Monday, January 4, 2010

Weight Loss Surgery - The Two(ish) Year Update - NSFW

Height: 5’6”

Starting Weight: 550 pounds

Current Weight: 336 pounds

Starting BMI: 89.0

Current BMI: 54.3

Measurements: Starting/Current
Neck: 20” / 17.5”
Chest: 76.5” / 60”
Waist: 83” / 61”
Hips: 72” / 64”
Wrist: 8.5” / 8”
Upper arm: 27” / 22”
Ankle: 12.5” / 11.5”
Calf: 23” / 19.5”
Thigh: 34” / 27”
Bra size: 56DD / 46G

Lost: 214 pounds and 67”

Links:
The surgery itself.
How’d you get so fat in the first place?
Why these entries are public.


Challenges: Ugh. This is the hard part. Where I have to admit I’ve gained back at least 20 pounds since my dad died. The emotional eating is back in full force and I’m scared to death. The surgery doesn’t change that, you know? At best it puts it in remission for a couple of years. And then something bad happens and BAM your evilest and dearest foe smacks you in the face once again.

One of my goals for 2010 is to deal with my disordered eating. My need to use eating to cope and self-soothe. My complete lack of understanding as to what “normal” and “sane” means when it comes to food.

I want to create an eating and an exercise plan. Because I need structure and scheduling since I don’t seem to do well without them. Because my body needs fuel and to move. And because my body deserves those things. Because every body does.


Physical: Do you know how weird it is to be excited about standing in lines!? Because two years ago I couldn’t have done it. Two years ago I couldn’t leave the house. Two years ago I couldn’t function. And now I can stand in lines. I stood in line at the post office a few weeks ago and had this goofy smile on my face because I know it would have been impossible not that long ago. Now I can fit in my car. Now I can walk to my therapist’s office without gasping for breath and feeling my legs shake underneath me. And it’s fucking exciting. It’s exciting to not feel imprisoned; to not feel as if I’m drowning within myself.

Obviously I’m still fat and I believe I always will be. And I’m totally okay with that. Because I’m getting healthier and stronger. And am now able to work towards the life I want for myself. I’m able to become who I want to be. And I wasn’t capable of that before.


Emotional: It’s strange to see your body disappearing. And I think part of my disordered eating comes from not knowing how to handle that. And, as I said, mega huge problems with emotional eating. The thing about being an addictive eater? You can’t stop cold turkey. I can’t just not eat. Believe me, I’ve done that before and it ain’t pretty.

I have a lot to work on this year. But one of the main things is my relationship with food. Food isn’t my enemy and I shouldn’t view it as though it were. But it’s also not my salvation. I want a healthy relationship with food and exercise and my body. This shit started 27 years ago. Twenty fucking seven years ago. I was four years old. I don’t remember a time when my relationship with food and my body wasn’t insane and chaotic. I don’t remember a time I didn’t view my body as something separate and foreign. And it’s about time I find myself.


So, speaking of bodies and reclamation…







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