by Christine on March 23rd, 2015
filed under Christine's Life Updates
Well, the month is closing in….and I can say that since my (awful, terrible) doctor’s appointment at the beginning of the month….
I haven’t gained any weight.
That’s terrific! I mean, it’s not LOSING weight–which I want and need to do–but I haven’t GAINED. And hey, that’s something I’m happy to celebrate.
I find that I’m pretty good about following a routine with respect to food at the beginning of the week, but things start to fall apart towards Friday and Saturday, including emotional binge stuff. I wonder why that is?
I got several walks in this weekend, including an hour trudging through the snow along the Erie Canal on Saturday. (No idea of miles…it was slow going in the snow and boots.) Sunday hubby joined me on a walk around a golf course at the State Park near my house. We stopped to watch the kids play hockey in the free ice skating rink in the park. It was another hour+ of walking through the snow.
(Above, walking along the Erie Canal)
(Above: Maple Syrup sugar house, and walking at the State Park)
by Christine on March 16th, 2015
filed under General Information
WOW, everyone! I have to say, I’m a little overwhelmed by the responses I’ve received the last few days from my blog post last week. THANK YOU everyone that sent me such wonderful messages of love and support. I read a few of them to my husband last night and they made me a little teary. Really, I’m grateful for your love. Thank you.
I’m surprised that so many people are evening (still) reading my blog! I checked out my Google Analytics, and wow! So many visitors every month! I’m amazed! I noticed that two of my 10 most popular pages are the “Q&As” that I posted here and here. I conclude that most visitors are looking for real information about the gastric band. Therefore, I think you all would be interested in reading some of the comments I’ve received in the last few days. Most people have shared their own personal struggles with the band, with side effects (slippage, leaks, etc). I thought it could be beneficial if I shared this information.
Thank you all again so much for writing and sharing such lovely messages with me. I really appreciate it.
My condolences on the loss of your dad. In life friends will come and go. Real friends stick around thru the harshness and stupid things we all do to each other.
Did anyone give you an answer as to why and how your band did that? And where you in any sort of pain or discomfort? Noticed any changes other tag. Just having no restriction?
I truly think you need to drop that therapist and find someone who wants to listen to what you wanna talk about and issues that are concerning you and getting to the root of things Not someone who dismisses you. Ever.
Thank you for sharing your story. I hope that things turn around for you, that you remember that you are a strong woman and get yourself into a group and surround yourself with people who will encourage and help you and uplift you and tell you when you are being an asshole and then you can take that and change what you need to change and do what you need to do for Yourself and your happiness. Hugs.
Oh, Christine! How awful. I am so sorry for all you’ve gone through – the loss of your band, your dad, your best friend. Thank you for sharing your experience. You’re so brave to put it all out there.
I was banded in 2010 and had a slip that I just had corrected surgically. Fortunately there wasn’t erosion to the degree that you experienced and no infection. Still, it has been a rough recovery because my stomach wasn’t in great shape so I can relate a bit.
As I prepared for my surgery, I thought a lot about losing my band, because that was a real option. I would have liked to think that I could have continued doing what I was doing with eating and exercise and not re-gain, but especially after reading your experience, I’m not sure that is how it would have worked out.
I don’t have any advice for you, except I think you should lose the therapist. I don’t know what the rest of your relationship is like, but he seems really dismissive about your eating issues. Stress-eating is a real thing and no “low-carb” diet is going to eliminate that problem. You may experience fewer cravings if you eat less sugar, but deprivatio n can also lead to binging behavior so you have to be careful there too.
I have attended OA before and have found it to be an excellent program in many ways. My biggest issue is that one of the 12 steps is to admit that you’re powerless over food. I made the mental exception that I wasn’t powerless over food, but I was powerless over the compulsion to overeat.
I also want to remind you that your value is not based on your size. You are a wonderful, intelligent, beautiful human being at any size. Please stop beating yourself up. It does no good and probably m akes things worse. Remind yourself that you’ve been through an awful ordeal and you’ve coped. At times you may have used food to help you cope, but there’s no shame in that. You are getting through. You are surviving.
My band is also failing me. Placed on 2009 and I lost 100 lbs, Always battled acid reflux with my band the entire time but thought it must be normal side effect. Numerous Fills and Unfills for over six years trying to control my symptoms, After it slipped off last winter and it had to be repositioned, I gained 40 lbs in four months (with the band on and two fills) I told the doctor, you did not place my band in the correct place. He promised he did. I got another fill which then caused me a lot of acid reflux and aspiration issues in the night. So I got a unfilled by 1 cc. Still acid reflux. Another release, Still Acid Reflux, and less restriction. My surgeon starting talking about removing my band! I cannot live without my band, I will gain the rest of my weight ba ck and six months. I know me. I have to have some restriction. I still have high blood pressure and I am still in the obese weight BMI chart. So the doctor started talking other options to me. I am now approved for a conversion to the sleeve at the end of March! Thank God. I think if I had not been approved and I would have kept my band and just lived with the acid reflux for the rest of my life in exchange for the little bit of control it gives me.
Hi Christine. I don’t normally follow your blog, but I was directed here from another blogger and friend. Holy crap man. You have been through a lot. I was banded in 2009 as well, and so far…smooth sailing with my band (knock on wood) but it has been several years since I saw my doctor so thanks to you, I called and made an appt and am requesting a barium swallow (which I have never had). As for words of encouragement, this is what I can tell you. I think you are more prepared for weight loss and fitness NOW then you were before the band. You know how amazing it feels to be lighter and healthier. I started at 330 and lost about 170 pounds…and I wonder how and if I would make it without the band when that day comes. I think I can do it. I think you can do it. But I have not been in your shoes….so don’t let me optimism make you want to punch me in the face. I’m really sorry about the loss of your father as well. I think you have made it past the hardest part and are coming out on the other side.
Hi! My name is Kris and I work for [deleted]. I know your husband [deleted] and have followed your weight loss story for years now. After your initial success, my husband [deleted] said that I should consider the lap band and because of your blog, I finally felt comfortable enough to go through with it. Recently, [deleted] had heard that you were having some complications and I was very concerned. This caused me to check in with your blog and see how things were going. My heart goes out to you. I have lost about 86 lbs over five years and because of the lap band, I am able to keep it off and be in control.I wish that I had great words of advice for you. I can first only say to stay strong! You have been through a lot and you can survive this too! You should look for a new counselor as the one you have now does not sound like a good fit. I would love to finally meet you some time if you ever want to grab a coffee or something. In the meantime, you will be in my thoughts and I know that you will figure out how bestto deal with this newest challenge.Take care,Kris
I somehow by a stroke of luck found your blog and I too share similar issues and am at a crossroad. I had my lapband done in april 2009 and was at a high of 270lbs. Within the first year I lost almost all of my weight down to 180. The second year I lost another 10 and was loving life and my body, even my small apron of skin less happy with my inner thighs of elephant folds, but loving life all the same. I maintained at 170-180 for 4-5 years with no adjustments and no exercise!
Last year it seemed my band was tight and had pretty bad reflux issues so it was loosened and was better. Way better! I started gaining some weight toward the middle of last year so I went for a fill. Good deal, well for a few weeks and then seemed I was increasing portion size and was hungry again. I just chalked it up to hormones or stress.
I went for a fill in January 2015. I told him my concern and he kind of shrugged it off. I should have had about 6cc but had 4cc. He said some is going to be absorbed and may not have had really accurate starting point from the downward adjustments last year from reflux. I had restriction for about 4 days then noticed I could eat about anything I wanted. NOT GOOD!!!
February went in and he withdrew all the fluid and only had 4cc again! He is now realizing I’m right and something is NOT RIGHT. He filled me to 7.5cc which was the tightest I ever was over 5 years. I had begun keeping a log of food intake, the feeling of being full, and when I felt no restriction. In 6 days there was again no restriction and could eat the broad side of a barn although I TRIED REALLY HARD NOT TO.
Yesterday went in and had a band check and only had 3.5cc. Surgeon agrees I have a leak somewhere. I am now terrified! I have gained to 212 and hate my body and what I look like again. I do not want to be that “fat girl” again. I have 42 lbs to get back to my lowest which at 5’11″ is good for me and I feel good there. He recommended that we petition insurance to remove band and do bypass or sleeve but at 39 BMI thinks insurance will not approve.
Today I have done some research and am learning that most leaks come from port issue. I just called my surgeon to see if he would do fluro to see where leak is, if that is needed and do local anesthesia to change out port.
I don’t think by band is eroded because I get good restriction when first filled.
I’m with you about feeling helpless and frustrated and alone. I love the feeling of my band when it was working and in that “sweet spot”. I focused on life rather than what where when I was going to eat next. I lived and eating was a second thought and in such ate better things for me. I don’t think our success with band is common with the amount and time frame we lost it.
Any suggestions are greatly appreciated!
by Christine on March 12th, 2015
So I’ve had three sessions now with my therapist where we have talked about weight, weight gain/loss, self-image issues, and life After Gastric Band (AGB). Yesterday, my therapist was trying to drive in the point: “If you ate like you did when you HAD the gastric band, then you should be able to maintain or lose weight.” Right?
It’s not easy for me to agree to this statement. I mean, sure, on one hand it seems perfectly logical. Eat like you did with the band, and you should be fine. But that doesn’t seem to account for the magic voodoo of the band. It doesn’t account for the spell it casts over you.
We talked a bit about this “magic,” and he says that the magic is merely that it was able to regulate my eating–ESPECIALLY when I was emotional–when I lacked the ability and willpower to do so beforehand. He says that’s all the “magic” is. The rest is all stuff that I can easily do on my own.
Maybe. I still haven’t totally embraced this solidly rational thought pattern.
I asked my therapist about my emotional eating binges. I mean, I know WHY I have them (you know, issues when I was growing up developed poor behavioral patterns. Filling the metaphorical “hole” in my heart with food feels good, blahblahblah) but I don’t know HOW to stop with the urge to respond to highly-charged emotional issues by feeding my face. In the past I replaced emotional outbursts with extreme exercise sessions. Okay, so that’s a “healthier” way of dealing with emotions (although there are many that would argue that it’s perhaps NOT the most healthy things)–my wish is that I wouldn’t feel the need to “fix” the emotional outburst at all. Whether you’re feeding your face, or doing something “healthier” like exercise–the response is essentially the same: That the emotional outburst is bad. Uncomfortable. Something I want to STOP. And so these behaviors are a way to either dampen the emotion, replace the pain with another kind of pain, or to make the pain stop altogether.
It seems to me that a healthier response would be to simply ride out the emotion in a zen-like wave. To recognize it, accept it, love it, and to also know that it won’t last forever. Watch it pass away and be replaced by other emotions that are less uncomfortable.
I think I would rather respond in the latter way, but how do I get there? And how do I get there without succumbing to the urge to feed my face when these emotional outbursts occur? That was my question for my therapist yesterday.
I suppose different kinds of therapies would offer different kinds of “solutions” for this. I’m not an expert in psychology, so I’m not entirely sure what a cognitive therapist would recommend, or what a behavioral therapist would recommend. My therapist ascribes to a branch of psychotherapy called Social Therapy. Therefore his recommendation was: Create a busy, happy, full life, and eventually this “problem” will just disappear. Have friends that you talk to about your emotional outbursts. Have hobbies that you find rewarding. Embark on personal growth and development. You can’t STOP emotional outbursts from happening, but the power you give it to rule your life IS something that you can change. If you give more power to the friends in your life, to love and fulfillment, then you give less power to emotions that rule your world.
So: I am reminded to create a full life for myself.
And so, at the end of my session, I was left thinking that maybe the magic of the band wasn’t so much that it restricted my eating. Maybe the real magic of the band was the fact that it allowed me to be free to create a full and happy life for myself. Once I created the full life for myself, the weight started to come off or to be maintained. It’s a coincidence that I hadn’t really picked up on before. Full life = weight loss, and weight loss = full life. It’s a yin/yang circle. Just because the band is gone doesn’t mean that my world has to become small again. I can create that magic for myself. If I create the full and rewarding life, the weight should be less of a “problem” that needs to be “solved.”
And to that end, I am trying more consciously to re-emerge into the world, after six months of wrapping myself in my sorrows. Oh, my sorrows will still be there, but maybe if I can stay active with meaningful activities, that I can keep the real magic alive. And if I keep that magic alive, maybe adhering to a diet/eating lifestyle would be made easier during the difficult times.
So….this weekend was a very difficult, emotional weekend for me that was wraught with poor behaviors towards my friends and subsequently poor eating choices for myself. I’m feeling a little bit back on track this week, making better food choices. I also started walking at lunchtime while at work, which I did twice this week. I’m have plans to meet a friend to go snowshoeing after work tonight as well. I’ve been mulling over what kind of rewarding and empowering activity I want to do this weekend, and I’m considering a few different things.
And….I didn’t gain any weight this week.
Walking at work this week.
by Christine on March 3rd, 2015
I haven’t updated in a long time, and that was originally because everything was going great. And then everything wasn’t going so hot, and, honestly, I guess I just didn’t want to be a downer. Or I didn’t want to really accept what was going on with me. But…now I need to formulate some kind of gameplan. If there are any readers of this blog out there, I could use a little advice or support. Even just a pat on the back saying, “it will all work out” would be appreciated these days.
Way back in March of 2014 (a year ago) I started experiencing less restriction. So I went back to my physician’s office, and the P.A. there told me I needed a fill (0.25 ccs). I went back a month later with non-existant restriction. The P.A. said I needed another fill and gave me a larger fill (something like 1.5 ccs). Still no restriction. So I went back 2 weeks later and got another fill. Two weeks later, I got another fill. I started getting antsy about this…..I could TELL something was wrong. But when the P.A. asked me if I was experiencing any pain (I was not), they just said I needed another fill. And another fill.
This went on for several month, each time with me telling the P.A. “Something is WRONG. I have like 13 ccs in my band: I shouldn’t be feeling NO restriction!” I really had to raise a fuss, and finally got an appointment with my bariatric surgeon (after much cock-blocking around the office. I understand–they don’t want to waste the surgeon’s time when it’s something the P.A. could deal with but their lack of taking me seriously was aggravating to say the least. At any rate, sometime in August, I finally got to see my surgeon.
Mr. Surgeon looked at the notes of months-after-months of fills with no restriction, and my explanation, and he finally scheduled me for some tests. First came the upper GI: you know, the drink where they make you drink the barium “milkshake.” I did that test, and the technician came out of his little closet and said, “normally you’d be free to head home, but can you wait around for a second?” I said sure. Technician guy called my surgeon’s office, and a few minutes later the bariatric surgeon’s office asked to speak to me on the phone. “There is a BIG problem with your band,” they told me. “We need you to do the other test ASAP.” When I hung up I asked the technician what was going on. He compared that day’s stomach image with one from when I had my gall bladder out. The band was GONE. It just wasn’t there.
The next day I had my endoscopy, and my bariatric surgeon confirmed that the band had eroded all the way through my stomach. I’m talking: it was INSIDE my stomach. Total erosion. Perforations in my stomach wall like crazy. Infection in my stomach. Crazy stuff. He told me it was imperative that I remove my band ASAP.
I took the weekend to go hiking off in the middle of the Adirondacks — alone — and have a little sad time for losing the band. (I was instructed that if I had any stomach pains AT ALL, then I was to get myself to the hospital ASAP because I could theoretically die or something. Oy!) Then, the first week of September I went in to have the band removed.
My last-hurrah hike up Wright Mountain, 4587 feet elevation
Band removal surgery went pretty much the same way that it went when it got put in. In out, home that day. Sure, my tummy hurt, but at this point I knew what to expect.
The next day I was slow moving around. That’s fine. To be expected.
The following day I felt worse instead of better. I was tired and achy. I was hot and feverish. My incisions were hot to the touch. Hubby drove me over to my surgeon’s office, and when the P.A. tried to touch my incisions to take a look, it hurt SO BAD I started shrieking and kicking the wall and damn near passed out from the pain. He told me to get myself to the E.R. at the hospital immediately.
Hubby dragged me off to the E.R. The doctor there called down some surgical technician from upstairs. He came down carrying a bag of knives and medieval torture items. He draped a towel over me and told me to hold on to it, and he cut me open right there. No sedative. No pain killer. No anesthesia. Just cut me open right then and there. OMG THE SMELL. Seriously. Hubby went green, and nurses down the hall could smell the stink of infection. I was sobbing from having NO ANESTHESIA (did I mention that?!) and trying to hold my shit together.
After I got cut up and slapped back together, they gave me some antibiotics and sent me home. A day or two later, I was feverish and delirious. Temperature of 103 degrees, stinking like a motherfucker. I called my surgeon’s office and they told me to head to the hospital.
So here’s the deal when you have a non-scheduled operation: you get put on a waiting list, and MAYBE they get to you and MAYBE they don’t. In my case, it was three days before they got around to seeing me. In the meantime, I hadn’t had a shower in about 10 days and I was stinking like no tomorrow. My lovely long hair started to rot and mildew to my head in my feverish sweats. At one point they wheeled me out of the room for some X-ray or something, and I had a balls-to-the-walls feverish delirium where my bariatric surgeon did a complete Bollywood routine with a posse of sexy nurses gathered behind him. It was hilarious.
At any rate, three days later, I had a THIRD surgery, which cut out the rest of the remaining infection. At this time I was told that when they originally took the port out, it acted as a suction-cup and sucked all the infection from my stomach into my abdomen area. (Why I wasn’t given antibiotics originally is totally beyond me.)
I had visiting nurses visit me for about 6 weeks after I got home from Surgery #3. Wow, what a fantastic organization the Visiting Nurses are! I adored all of my nurses, and what a relief to not have to drive to a medical facility EVERY DAY to have my wounds cleaned. Slowly, the giant pit they had created in my stomach closed up and healed. No problem–this time.
At this point it was the end of October, and then I got a call that my father wasn’t feeling well. He went in for a series of tests and found out that he had lung cancer. And not just lung cancer….but it had spread and had already spread to his bones. He was given 5 weeks to live. The next several weeks involved lots of communication with my mom (my parents live out-of-state from me) and coordinating travel and visits with other family members. I got to visit my father the second week of December, and he died a day after I returned home to New York. I then went BACK to their house for funeral-type arrangements and to (try?) to give support to my mom. We were there for another few weeks.
To top it all off, my very best friend in the world met up with me to chat about my father at some point in November, and cussed me out for being the most horrible human being known to mankind. So: I lost my band, my father, and my best friend all in the course of a few short months.
Then there was Christmas, and then there was New Years.
I have to admit, I wasn’t wrapping my head around the loss of my band. Not really. I mean, it was all wrapped up in the loss of my father and my best friend. It seemed like the only one of the three that I could actually process at all was the loss of my friend. At the slightest mention or thought of him, I would burst out crying and was a wreck. The rest just feels numb.
When it comes to the band, I think I was just thinking I could wait it out. Sure, the weight started coming on really fast, but my bariatric surgeon told me to see him in 6 months after I healed, and we would discuss the next steps. In my head, I was holding on to the hope that another surgery could be done. That the weight loss could be dealt with soon; I just needed to get through the next few months.
In the meantime, I was seeing a dietician for food advice. That wasn’t very helpful to me at all, since I think she deals mostly with dietary issues that those who have had gastric bypass need. It was the usual: “eat your proteins and veggies; eat fewer carbs” blah-blah-blah “lean and green” advice that I already knew.
Today I had my six-month follow-up with my surgeon, and to say that I’m disappointed would be an understatement. First: I’ve gained 40 pounds in the last six months since my band was removed. Secondly: my surgeon pointed out that my insurance by no means would approve of gastric bypass surgery on me. I brought up the option of paying out-of-pocket for it, and he shook his head. He said that HE would not be comfortable doing the surgery on me, either. At least, not at this point. He seemed to hint that maybe after I’ve reached a BMI of 40+ (again) that he MIGHT consider it–but he said that because of my botched/infected surgery in September, that I’m 3x more likely to have complications if I have bypass surgery, and he’s not sure he’s willing to take that risk with me.
So in other words: I’m shit out of luck.
“Good luck to you, and if you reach a BMI of 40+, give me a call and maybe we can have another chat.”
I feel like the rug has been ripped out from under me. All hope is gone. The light at the end of the tunnel has disappeared and I’m closed into this nightmare. I feel all the things I hated about myself prior to weight loss surgery coming back again. It’s horrifying. I don’t know what to do, but I know I DO need to make a gameplan. And, my current gameplan isn’t working.
I should also point out that I AM seeing a therapist, but unfortunately I am not able to talk to him about food-related issues. He seems to be completely unable to discuss the topic of emotional eating. In a particularly adversarial session with him a few weeks ago, he was saying that if I just went low-carb, that all my weight problems would vanish. I wouldn’t overeat. I wouldn’t be hungry. I wouldn’t stress-eat. Low (or no-) carb is a magic formula that will solve all my weight problems. I told him that (1) I agree that low (or no) carb is the way to go, so he doesn’t need to convince me of that. (2) I’ve been there, done that. And I didn’t lose weight. and (3) Low (or no) carb is not going to solve my emotional eating problems. He disagreed and said that low (or no) carb will just make all my food and eating and self-image problems “magically vanish.” Needless to say, we have agreed to disagree. And I have sought out an Overeaters Anonymous group locally that I would like to try going to sometime.
So I am aware that I need to create (1) a food plan, and (2) an exercise plan, and (3) deal with my emotional eating issues, and (4) continue to work on acceptance of who I am/what I look like, regardless of my weight. I’ve been working actively on the latter issue for YEARS now with no real progress. It probably wouldn’t hurt to try to find a nutritionist that can really help me. I’m not at all opposed to signing up for a personal trainer. But I’m stuck with the feeling of dread because I’ve DONE all of that in the past and nothing worked. I almost feel like the more energy and effort I put into trying to lose weight without magic bariatric surgery, that it continues to reinforce my hatred of my overweight self, so it’s kind of a self-perpetuating downward spiral of negativity.
I also still don’t know what to do about this friend that hurt me so badly in November. And I really haven’t done much with respect to grieving for my father, either. The last few months have been such an overwhelming blow of awfulness, that I don’t think I’ve even begun to process what has happened to me.
So like I said in the beginning: if you have any advice to offer, or a pat on my head to give, please help.
A picture of me with my dad, a week before he died.
by Christine on March 29th, 2013
filed under Christine's Life Updates
This week I had an opportunity to chat with a perfect stranger about my weight loss and issues related to it. The conversation kind of came up in a roundabout way, the way these things do these days. Usually they talk about their own attempt to lose weight, and I chime in with my own experiences, and they say, “Wow, you’ve lost over 100 pounds?” And then I pull out my phone and show them a “before” picture. Two things happen then: They either say, “Holy shit, you don’t even look like the same person!” or they say, “Awe, you look as good now as you did then.” It’s funny how reactions can be lumped into one of the two categories.
This particular gentleman that I was speaking to, Bob, was sharing that he coaches women’s sports at his local high school. He volunteers his time coaching softball, soccer, and basketball. He said there is one young girl that plays multiple sports (it’s a small school district), and he has noticed recently that he treats her differently because of her weight. Bob gives her less playing time than the other girls. He puts her in positions that require less effort (for example, outfield instead of shortstop, etc). He forgets to even think about her when he’s coming up with drills and plans. Bob is less friendly to her in person. He said she’s a very smart girl, very sweet, with a heart of gold. And she tries very hard at all the sports. So it’s really just her weight that causes him to treat her differently. Bob wanted to know how people have treated me differently now versus when I was overweight.
I had YET ANOTHER conversation along this same line with a very dear friend of mine, who we shall call John. John is, shall we say, an adventuresome lover. He has many lovers. He finds women attractive and enjoys sex with them. But there is one woman that has made it clear that she is attracted to him, and he said he is not attracted to her…..yes, because of her weight. John feels terrible about this and feels very self-conscious about his lack of attraction for this woman. He feels like a terrible person and wants badly to be more open-minded. And yet, his attraction…it is what it is.
I’ve been on the receiving end of this more times than I can count. The one that stands out to me is a crush I had on my friend Terry. We spent TONS of time together, even slept (yes, sleep…not sex) together all the time. We had many fun adventures together. I made it clear that I liked him, and one day he was finally honest with me and said, “Look, you are a nice girl, I’m glad we are friends and spend time together. But I’m just not attracted to you. I like girls that are a LOT thinner than you.”
I was crushed. Terribly crushed. It made me hate and loathe myself even more than I did before. But at the same time, I appreciated the HONEST response. “I’m not attracted to you because of your weight” was a whole hell of a lot more honest than, “I just don’t think we’re meant to be together” or some other bullshit like that.
I shared some of my experiences with Bob, and he was very attentive. He said he feels like a terrible person because of how he treats this girl on his sports team. He said he will not forget our conversation anytime soon, that my openness and candor meant a lot to him. He said that our conversation only reinforces that he needs to do a lot better job being a better person. It was one of the nicest compliments I’ve had in a long time.
But Bob asked me, “Are you ever bitter? You know…bitter when people are nice to you now? Bitter because people weren’t nice to you before?”
Hmmm. Now that is a complicated question.
Yes: I mean, of course I’m bitter that I spent some 30 years of my life trapped in a body that I did not want. A body I did everything within my power to change. I’m bitter that, for as much as I hated myself (oh, and I did!) the way people treated me only made me hate myself that much more. I’m bitter for all the opportunities that were lost to me: opportunities to make friends, opportunities to date, even work opportunities. I’m bitter that people judge so much based on appearances and not based on the content of your heart and soul.
And no. I’m grateful for the fact that people are nice to me today, regardless of WHY they are being nice to me. I’m grateful for the smiles I get at the corner store. I’m grateful for the little flirts and smiles I get from guys. I’m grateful that I have the chance TODAY to meet new people, make new friends, have new opportunities. I’m grateful TODAY that my life is so much better.
Throughout all these conversations, it just reinforces to me over and over how TERRIFIED I am that I’ll someday gain my weight back. I’ve felt the change in how people treat me. I’ve felt the change in how I treat myself. Even these conversations this week just demonstrate to me that people DO treat overweight people differently. I don’t want to go back. Oh, I’m so scared to go back.
There’s one positive to all this: my husband married me when I was at my fattest. I’m SO GRATEFUL for that. Because I know that he loves me for ME, not for how I look. And I have hope that if I ever gained weight back, he would still love and respect me. That means the world to me! I am very grateful to have him in my life.