I can't say for sure, but today may be the last time I blog about my weight loss journey. I don't know if there is much more to say after today.
I had my two year post-op surgery appointment a couple of weeks ago with the surgeon, Dr. L. He shared that he was not giving up on me and referred me to one of the other doctors, named Dr. C, that specializes in "medically supervised" weight loss programs. Dr. C is also a patient. He had the gastric sleeve procedure a few years back and he looks great. It worked wonderfully for him. I was also seeing my nutritionist today as well. All this is just great except the timing was bad. We are in the height of shark week. I say "we" because I never go through this alone. I take victims down when necessary and other people throw chocolate at me in hopes I will not attack. But, I digress. What I'm saying is, as far as emotional stability days go, I didn't need my horoscope to tell me how this was all about to go down.
Regardless of mood, I was committed. Committed to today, committed to the process, whatever that may be. I promised myself, no crying today. Dr. C walked in the room and asked me how I'd been. Seems like an innocent enough question, and yet, the tear dam began filling behind the walls preparing for an apocalyptic release. We talked about where I'd been the last two years and where I was now. We talked about options. One of those options is an additional surgery. A surgery that likely would not guarantee any further success. He was pretty honest about it all. I told him I didn't want another surgery and that I knew this was up to me and that I had to do it and that I had to work harder. This is when shit got real.
Dr. C said he had looked over my history. I had been working with this clinic since 2006. First, with a lap band that did not net any real success in April of 2007 and then the removal of that and then doing the sleeve in December 2012. He said, "I've looked at all of your recent lab results, you are really healthy. Your cholesterol is low, your A1C is lower than my own and with the exception of a low vitamin D count, all your numbers are right where you need to be. We may have to accept that your body is never going to be where you want it to be." First crack could be heard in the dam wall and we had a geyser start shooting water. He went on to say that as hard as I had worked last year to get to my lowest weight with the working out and the eating and being on the Phentermine, that might be as low as my body could go. That might be the resting place. Not saying I can't get below that, but it is going to be a lot of hard work and it may not ever be anything I can maintain. And, it isn't my fault. I'm doing all that I can and I can't fight genetics. The fact that my body gained weight back when I stopped exercising and let my guard down shows that my body has a different "resting point" than where I want it to be. He said he needed me to hear that, needed me to understand that. He needed me to know that I am doing enough, no matter how much I think I'm not doing enough, I am. I am doing more than a lot of people do and I can't beat myself up for this. He told me what I have always known in my head and in my heart, I will never be thin. As I type this, that is the hardest thing I have ever had to hear. It hurts me to the core. It is every Sam Smith and Adele song lyric magnified times 100. I cried in his office. I cried all the way home. I cry right now. I cannot express how deeply it cuts. There are no words.
I've always been a big girl and I have always fought it, but I thought that someday, if I worked hard enough, if I had surgery, that someday I could overcome this. To have someone look at me and say, there may not be anything medically we can do to help you and you may have to accept being healthy with a bigger body was difficult. He didn't say I couldn't be successful, but it is going to be very difficult and a lot of hard work. I will have to stay on top of exercise all the time just to maintain the smallest of successes. And, my body will likely convert whatever it can to muscle, so I will not see a lighter body. He went on to say that it isn't fair how some people barely try and the surgery works for them and they get down so thin. It just isn't fair, but that is what I am dealing with, this is the body I was given. He just kept reiterating that he needed me to hear that it wasn't my fault. While it is true I own responsibility for my eating and exercise, how my body responds to that is not in my control.
All I could think during this is, "I was right, this is never going to happen for me. I'm never going to have skin removal surgery, because I am never going to lose enough to merit it. I'm never going to be able to wear shorts in the summer, I'm never going to be able to wear a bathing suit without shame. I'm never going to be able to wear certain clothes that I want to wear. I'm never going to be able to walk around proud of the body I'm in. I've spent a lifetime fighting this body and I am never going to be able to stop fighting. Never. I'm tired now, how am I going to continually do this? I'm trying to be supportive to all these people that are going through the same journey I am and they are all surpassing me. I hate their success. I hate it. I don't hate them, but I hate their bodies for allowing them to realize their dreams. It all sounds dramatic to whomever might be reading this, but this is my reality, if you haven't lived it, then I would not expect you to understand. I say to the FIRST PERSON that says to me, "That's your problem, it's because you don't believe you can," I say to them FUCK YOU. You don't know. Don't you dare judge what you don't know. I need one more thin person to tell me how it is like I need a hole in the head, so if you are that person, SAVE it.
As I drove home, rain pounded down on my windshield and I just cried. I let it all out. I audibly sobbed so hard that I put to shame every bachelorette that didn't get a rose at the last rose ceremony on The Bachelor. It was the best Daytime Drama emmy award-winning cry you have ever seen. I needed Adele's help and I popped her CD in the player. Us fat girls were going to get through this together. And, I wasn't crying because of shark week, I was crying for every moment in my life I felt like a failure, every moment I felt like a fat girl, every moment I felt not good enough, every moment a kid teased me at school, every moment I felt alone and unlovable, every pair of jeans that wouldn't fit, every time I felt like I couldn't do something because I was too heavy. I cried for all of those things that I have spent a lifetime fighting to overcome and on this day, I felt defeated and my heart is broken. Having the words I feared most to be spoken to me rocked me to the core.
With all of that said, I don't blame the doctor for being honest. I appreciate him saying what he did. He didn't say I couldn't do this, he was saying, I needed to come to terms with the cards I was dealt and then go from there. I'm not giving up. I need to re-lose the pounds I have gained back. I need to get to the gym, which I have been. I need to keep eating healthier stuff. I'm going to do those things. I'm not a suicide case. I'm just saying that today I hurt. Today a lifetime of inner fears and insecurities became realized. It was nice to hear someone say that I am doing enough and to not beat myself up, but at the same time, I have to accept that my before and after picture is going to be a very different story than what I want it to be. And there are those out there that will say the doctor doesn't know what he is saying and that I just need to move more and eat less and that I am not healthy, I am fat. I know those people are out there because I see their mean posts and bullying on social media every day. I don't have any more energy to fight those people, and I won't.
When I arrived at the clinic today, there was someone in the waiting room that I know that also had the surgery and was there for follow-up appointments. She had shared that she wanted to wear boots and cute dresses, but that she didn't have the confidence to do so yet. I told her that she should do it when she was ready and that she should rely on family and friends that support her. And believe them when they tell her she is doing great and looks great. I told her that is where I get my strength and confidence, my peeps. My peeps that I am so lucky to have. I told her that is where I pull my bravery from. Even when I got my new boots that I coveted so much, I was still scared to wear them, but I said, "Fuck it, I'm gonna own it because my friends said I can." And I did it and it felt great. As I gave her this advice, I thought to myself, "I do really believe that." I still mean that. I love all my family and friends for always being that support system. I just need everyone to understand, I hear you, I love you, but I gotta get through this part and it's hard. It was part of my journey to hear what I did today. I just have to come to terms with what it means to me and what I do next.
Look, I am thankful for many things in my life. I have a wonderful husband, a caring family, amazing friends, we have what we need, no less, no more, and I get to live somewhere that I get to keep my horses. I have a good job, Shark Bait has a good job. I get it. I am thankful. With all of that, it seems selfish to want more, but I do. For my whole life, I've wanted this one thing. This one unreachable thing. I get to be upset about it. I've earned the right.
If it were Therapy Thursday, the Rug Doctor might say, "Today totally sucks. Life isn't always going to suck. And, your feelings are valid." And then, I would give her a $20 co pay and reschedule my next appointment. Today isn't Therapy Thursday, but my feelings are valid. I don't need a professional to sign off on that fact.
Goodnight.
P.S. I didn't write about shit today. It's a win for Angry Pony.
I had my two year post-op surgery appointment a couple of weeks ago with the surgeon, Dr. L. He shared that he was not giving up on me and referred me to one of the other doctors, named Dr. C, that specializes in "medically supervised" weight loss programs. Dr. C is also a patient. He had the gastric sleeve procedure a few years back and he looks great. It worked wonderfully for him. I was also seeing my nutritionist today as well. All this is just great except the timing was bad. We are in the height of shark week. I say "we" because I never go through this alone. I take victims down when necessary and other people throw chocolate at me in hopes I will not attack. But, I digress. What I'm saying is, as far as emotional stability days go, I didn't need my horoscope to tell me how this was all about to go down.
Regardless of mood, I was committed. Committed to today, committed to the process, whatever that may be. I promised myself, no crying today. Dr. C walked in the room and asked me how I'd been. Seems like an innocent enough question, and yet, the tear dam began filling behind the walls preparing for an apocalyptic release. We talked about where I'd been the last two years and where I was now. We talked about options. One of those options is an additional surgery. A surgery that likely would not guarantee any further success. He was pretty honest about it all. I told him I didn't want another surgery and that I knew this was up to me and that I had to do it and that I had to work harder. This is when shit got real.
Dr. C said he had looked over my history. I had been working with this clinic since 2006. First, with a lap band that did not net any real success in April of 2007 and then the removal of that and then doing the sleeve in December 2012. He said, "I've looked at all of your recent lab results, you are really healthy. Your cholesterol is low, your A1C is lower than my own and with the exception of a low vitamin D count, all your numbers are right where you need to be. We may have to accept that your body is never going to be where you want it to be." First crack could be heard in the dam wall and we had a geyser start shooting water. He went on to say that as hard as I had worked last year to get to my lowest weight with the working out and the eating and being on the Phentermine, that might be as low as my body could go. That might be the resting place. Not saying I can't get below that, but it is going to be a lot of hard work and it may not ever be anything I can maintain. And, it isn't my fault. I'm doing all that I can and I can't fight genetics. The fact that my body gained weight back when I stopped exercising and let my guard down shows that my body has a different "resting point" than where I want it to be. He said he needed me to hear that, needed me to understand that. He needed me to know that I am doing enough, no matter how much I think I'm not doing enough, I am. I am doing more than a lot of people do and I can't beat myself up for this. He told me what I have always known in my head and in my heart, I will never be thin. As I type this, that is the hardest thing I have ever had to hear. It hurts me to the core. It is every Sam Smith and Adele song lyric magnified times 100. I cried in his office. I cried all the way home. I cry right now. I cannot express how deeply it cuts. There are no words.
I've always been a big girl and I have always fought it, but I thought that someday, if I worked hard enough, if I had surgery, that someday I could overcome this. To have someone look at me and say, there may not be anything medically we can do to help you and you may have to accept being healthy with a bigger body was difficult. He didn't say I couldn't be successful, but it is going to be very difficult and a lot of hard work. I will have to stay on top of exercise all the time just to maintain the smallest of successes. And, my body will likely convert whatever it can to muscle, so I will not see a lighter body. He went on to say that it isn't fair how some people barely try and the surgery works for them and they get down so thin. It just isn't fair, but that is what I am dealing with, this is the body I was given. He just kept reiterating that he needed me to hear that it wasn't my fault. While it is true I own responsibility for my eating and exercise, how my body responds to that is not in my control.
All I could think during this is, "I was right, this is never going to happen for me. I'm never going to have skin removal surgery, because I am never going to lose enough to merit it. I'm never going to be able to wear shorts in the summer, I'm never going to be able to wear a bathing suit without shame. I'm never going to be able to wear certain clothes that I want to wear. I'm never going to be able to walk around proud of the body I'm in. I've spent a lifetime fighting this body and I am never going to be able to stop fighting. Never. I'm tired now, how am I going to continually do this? I'm trying to be supportive to all these people that are going through the same journey I am and they are all surpassing me. I hate their success. I hate it. I don't hate them, but I hate their bodies for allowing them to realize their dreams. It all sounds dramatic to whomever might be reading this, but this is my reality, if you haven't lived it, then I would not expect you to understand. I say to the FIRST PERSON that says to me, "That's your problem, it's because you don't believe you can," I say to them FUCK YOU. You don't know. Don't you dare judge what you don't know. I need one more thin person to tell me how it is like I need a hole in the head, so if you are that person, SAVE it.
As I drove home, rain pounded down on my windshield and I just cried. I let it all out. I audibly sobbed so hard that I put to shame every bachelorette that didn't get a rose at the last rose ceremony on The Bachelor. It was the best Daytime Drama emmy award-winning cry you have ever seen. I needed Adele's help and I popped her CD in the player. Us fat girls were going to get through this together. And, I wasn't crying because of shark week, I was crying for every moment in my life I felt like a failure, every moment I felt like a fat girl, every moment I felt not good enough, every moment a kid teased me at school, every moment I felt alone and unlovable, every pair of jeans that wouldn't fit, every time I felt like I couldn't do something because I was too heavy. I cried for all of those things that I have spent a lifetime fighting to overcome and on this day, I felt defeated and my heart is broken. Having the words I feared most to be spoken to me rocked me to the core.
With all of that said, I don't blame the doctor for being honest. I appreciate him saying what he did. He didn't say I couldn't do this, he was saying, I needed to come to terms with the cards I was dealt and then go from there. I'm not giving up. I need to re-lose the pounds I have gained back. I need to get to the gym, which I have been. I need to keep eating healthier stuff. I'm going to do those things. I'm not a suicide case. I'm just saying that today I hurt. Today a lifetime of inner fears and insecurities became realized. It was nice to hear someone say that I am doing enough and to not beat myself up, but at the same time, I have to accept that my before and after picture is going to be a very different story than what I want it to be. And there are those out there that will say the doctor doesn't know what he is saying and that I just need to move more and eat less and that I am not healthy, I am fat. I know those people are out there because I see their mean posts and bullying on social media every day. I don't have any more energy to fight those people, and I won't.
When I arrived at the clinic today, there was someone in the waiting room that I know that also had the surgery and was there for follow-up appointments. She had shared that she wanted to wear boots and cute dresses, but that she didn't have the confidence to do so yet. I told her that she should do it when she was ready and that she should rely on family and friends that support her. And believe them when they tell her she is doing great and looks great. I told her that is where I get my strength and confidence, my peeps. My peeps that I am so lucky to have. I told her that is where I pull my bravery from. Even when I got my new boots that I coveted so much, I was still scared to wear them, but I said, "Fuck it, I'm gonna own it because my friends said I can." And I did it and it felt great. As I gave her this advice, I thought to myself, "I do really believe that." I still mean that. I love all my family and friends for always being that support system. I just need everyone to understand, I hear you, I love you, but I gotta get through this part and it's hard. It was part of my journey to hear what I did today. I just have to come to terms with what it means to me and what I do next.
Look, I am thankful for many things in my life. I have a wonderful husband, a caring family, amazing friends, we have what we need, no less, no more, and I get to live somewhere that I get to keep my horses. I have a good job, Shark Bait has a good job. I get it. I am thankful. With all of that, it seems selfish to want more, but I do. For my whole life, I've wanted this one thing. This one unreachable thing. I get to be upset about it. I've earned the right.
If it were Therapy Thursday, the Rug Doctor might say, "Today totally sucks. Life isn't always going to suck. And, your feelings are valid." And then, I would give her a $20 co pay and reschedule my next appointment. Today isn't Therapy Thursday, but my feelings are valid. I don't need a professional to sign off on that fact.
Goodnight.
P.S. I didn't write about shit today. It's a win for Angry Pony.
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