Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Where my head is at

My head is in a weird place. I haven't been blogging about it because I can't even figure out what to say.

One second I'm so happy I had my sleeve. Maybe I can put on a pair of pants that didn't used to fit. Or someone at work complements me on my weight loss. Or I realize that I haven't felt hungry all day except at meal times in an appropriate amount.

The next second I am annoyed with myself. Maybe I only lost one pound this week. Or I look at a picture of myself and realize I'm a lot bigger than I think I am. Or I skip going to the gym and suffer the consequences on the scale.

Then, a second later, I'm wondering what the f*** did I do to myself? This usually happens after I eat too fast or too much. But the other day I felt hungry all day. WTF? I'm not supposed to feel hungry like that. I didn't have this surgery so I could feel hungry all the time! Oh wait, I forgot to take my PPI again, didn't I? Oops.

Then, whatever it is passes, and I'm happy again. For now.

Am I going nuts? Supposedly as we lose fat we release estrogen into our system and that can cause mood swings. But I've lost weight before without getting on such an emotional roller coaster.

Maybe I'm just impatient. I do know that part of me wants to be done with weight loss and on to maintenance. So anything that reminds me I'm not done, that I'm only a little over two months out and have a ways to go, does tend to piss me off.

The other thing that I'm sure is a factor is that I really like to be normal. Not boring normal, but not someone who had a childhood that could be made into a Movie-of-the-Week. Now this is the silliest of them all because the average middle-aged woman doesn't dye her hair blue or listen to The Killers or breastfeed her kids past letsjustsayitwasalongtime or do half the things I do and wouldn't change for the world.

So first of all, I will never be normal and, secondly, I'd be horrified if by some miracle I could manage it. But that doesn't stop me from being unhappy every time my sleeve asserts itself and reminds me that I have medicalized myself in my quest to control my weight.

And I think that may be the bottom line. I tried to pick the surgery that medicalized me the least while still being effective, but I did have surgery. There is no getting around that. I had surgery and I wouldn't change that because having surgery is the only effective treatment we've got for morbid obesity. I had to do something and I just couldn't go on one more diet knowing that it wouldn't work in the long run.

But I that doesn't stop me from wanting to live as normal a life as I can and not be a freak of nature.

I guess I need to learn to embrace my freakiness just like I embraced my blue hair and all the other things I do that are right for me, but make other people scratch their heads. So I will try. But I think it might take a while.
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