Identity Crisis 2012

Here it is...the bi-annual identity crisis!  (applause, applause, applause)

This identity crisis event seems to occur about every 2 years or so and usually results in some life changing revelation and a decent amount of growth.  It's partnered with lots of writing/journaling, artistic/creative endeavors and a fair amount of banging my head against a wall.  The latter I could do without.

So what brought it on this time?  Well, set aside the constant frustration with my job, feeling trapped inside my home (because I work from home) and other grown-up responsibilities (which really aren't that bad) and you have everything else...well, not really.  I have an amazing husband who accepts me and all my crazy, a family who loves me and friends who are more supportive than anyone could ask.  It's really just my brain that holds me back or at least slows me down.

I have so many varied interests.  SO. MANY!  I think this is main thing that other people enjoy about me and the one that makes me question my sanity.  

I've moved 54 times, went to 17 different schools and have until the past six years had dozens of jobs in various fields.  All of these things make me a very interesting and diverse person but also prevent me from being able to define myself.  You might be thinking, "Why do you have to define yourself, Andrea?"  And while the easy answer is, "I don't!" the harder answer is "because I constantly feel like I'm spinning in circles and grasping at straws."

I want to do so many things with my life but I can't seem to stay focused on one thing long enough to accomplish any of them.  Part of that is ADD, I'm sure, but it's less of the typical task oriented ADD and more of a "Vision Oriented ADD".  I mean, completing tasks is very difficult, don't get me wrong, but eventually I get shit done that needs to get done with regards to work and housekeeping stuff so I don't want to dwell on that.  But yesterday I realized that if I had to brand myself I wouldn't even know where to start!  

I realize that it sounds ridiculous to want to brand yourself, but trust me, it's more common than you think.  Comedians for instance:  Roseann (who's roast happened to be on last night, which also happened to get my wheels spinning faster than they already were) is a brand.  She's known as a crazy, loud-mouth who doesn't give a F@&% about what other people think.  That may not be who she is behind closed doors, but that's how she's perceived.  Martha Stewart is an other example, on the opposite end of the spectrum, of course, but branded non-the-less. Ricky Gervais, John Stewart, Steve Jobs, Meg Ryan, Barack Obama, the list goes on.  Now you're probably thinking, "Andrea, those are celebrities, they get paid lots of money to be those things."  Yes, you're absolutely right!  They do!  And I want to be one of them.  I don't have to be a politician or a comedian or the icon of domestic perfection, but I do want to be known for SOMETHING!  Which is actually REALLY hard for me to say out loud (or in writing) because that little voice in my head tells me that it is ridiculous to want that and even more ridiculous to admit it. But then the other little voice tells me that they were all just normal people before they did something that got noticed and there's no reason why I can't be one of those people too. 

All my life I thought I was someone special because that's what others have always told me.  Maybe everyone hears that growing up and still hears it as an adult...I don't know.  That annoying voice tells me that the people who tell or have told me how "amazing" I am tell that to everyone they know and I'm just lucky to be one of the people those people.  This isn't a woe is me cry for attention, this is me realizing that I base my self worth on other people's perception of who and what I am.  "Self worth" might be a bit dramatic; I certainly wouldn't kill myself if someone told me I was stupid and didn't deserve to live.  But I am unable to describe myself in a positive way without using the words that others use to describe or praise me.  

I hadn't really realized this until last night when I was talking to Brett about the stress I was feeling about "branding" myself.  

Branding, there's that word again.  So why, why do I, as a sales rep for a small company, living in a small town with a husband, some pets and a normal, every-day-life need to brand myself?  Again, because I want to be and do more!  Here's a specific example for you...

I started a web-series cooking show last week because I think it would be so cool to have my own show and I'm tired of waiting for the Food Network to announce auditions for next season's "Food Network Star".  (I fricken love that show!) I had started a food blog about a month ago called "So Whatcha Eating" where I post pictures of foods I prepare/eat as a post-op gastric by-pass patient.  It seemed like a good idea at the time and I'm sure it still is and even though I've had a decent amount of traffic via Pinterest, (which is way cool) I feel like I'm pigeonholing myself.  Yes, I am a post-op and always will be but I don't want that to define who I am and more than that I don't want to have to be limited to low carb recipes and feel obligated to stick to that persona for the rest of my life.  Now you're probably thinking, "you don't have to, Andrea!"  In fact you might even be yelling it at me, but I disagree.  IF I want to be known for something it needs to be consistent.  I can't use my @2eatrealfood on Twitter to talk about my atheism or political views or even that I went to Taco Bell for lunch.  (Which I didn't but I might!)   That's not why people follow me.  They want to hear about recipes I create and the HEALTHY foods I eat and even though Martha Stewart spent time in prison and was able to survive but if you suddenly found out that her house is a complete disaster and that she actually burns water when she cooks you will question her entire...BRAND!  

So in the "branding" conversation that I was having with my sweet, patient husband he said, "I think you need to decide who you are."  He went on to tell me that he knows that I really struggle with that and pointed out all of my varied interests and random "identities"-- cook, writer, actress, singer, hippie, adventure seeker, etc. And he's right!  I am ALL OVER THE PLACE!  He knows me better than I know myself sometimes!  Okay, probably most of the time.  He asked me how I would describe myself and it was then that I realized that all of the adjectives I would use to describe myself were things that other people say about me:  funny, talented, pretty, smart, interesting...I think those are the main specifics.  "Amazing" and "Awesome" are praises I get a lot which I love to hear but what do I do with that?  What do I do with any of it?  Maybe nothing.  Again, that voice tells me things like, "Andrea, they're just saying that to be nice" or "Andrea, they think that's what you need to hear"...and maybe they're right.  Maybe that's all it is, something I need to hear to keep me going in my "normal day-to-day life."  

Having worked in the arts, pursuing a career as an actor and even in all of my other endeavors, I've always had a hard time believing compliments.  I accept them graciously; I truly do appreciate them.  But I prefer my compliments to come with a side of criticism.  That's not REALLY true.  I hate criticism.  I don't even really like suggestions, because that means that what I did wasn't good enough, but I believe criticism far more than I believe praise.  I know I'm not the only one.  It's a common theme among self-improvement-type-shows that make producers a lot of money... but I don't know how to fix it for myself.

So how do I define myself?  I don't fricken know!  Most of the time I really like who I am, believe it or not.  I certainly don't hate myself in fact there are plenty of times when I think I'm pretty damned amazing too, I just don't know how to define it.  I love that I'm always willing to try new things.  I love that I'm never content no matter how frustrating it might be.  I love that I never meet a stranger.  I love that I am good a many things.  I love myself...I just don't know what the hell to do with who I am.  What I do know is that I don't want to sell ticketing software for the rest of my life.

I want my own cooking show.  I want to write a book.  I want my own sitcom.  I want to be on Broadway.  I want to travel the world.  I want an "amazing" physical, mental and emotional transformation post gastric by-pass.  I want the world to know who I am because I too, believe that I am amazing in my own neurotic, spastic, fly-by-the-seat of my pants kind of way. I want to be okay with who I am and I want others to know that they can be okay with who they are too.  That's why I write this silly little blog.  

I don't know what else to say at this point.  I'm sure the contradictions in my ramblings are quite confusing and have probably left you scratching your head...welcome to my world.  

So what's my plan?  Well, as of last night, as I was trying to fall asleep I decided that I need to reactivate Andrea Tripodi.  That doesn't mean I'm getting a divorce and changing my name.  But I am going to revamp my www.andreatripodi.com website and include EVERYTHING about me.  All of my interests, adventures, ideas, accomplishments and setbacks. That way, even if I can't get my brain to focus on who I am at least it will be in one consolidated place and maybe, just maybe someone will notice and pay me to just be me- a cooking, writing, acting, singing, world traveling, adventure seeker...Wouldn't that be nice?

Then and Now...

Because I'm sure you're just dying to know...


So far I've lost NINETY (90) POUNDS! NINETY FREAKING POUNDS!  ...I still want to lose about 70 more, but I'm feeling pretty damned good.  Life is so much easier when you're no longer carrying around three 30lbs bags of dog food everywhere you go.  I don't know how I did it.  I love being able to climb several flights of stairs without getting winded, being able to put on and tie my shoes like a "normal person" sitting in a chair!  I love being able to cross my legs, sit on the floor, fit in those stupid white resin patio chairs!  I love not having to worry about whether or not I'm going to fit in a booth or get up on a bar stool.  I'm still quite overweight and have a ways to go but every day I'm grateful for the accomplishments I've made and look forward to what's in store for my future!

Then

Now - 7.5 Months Post Op

Carowinds Update

So what else has happened in recent months?  Well after the mud run I went to beautiful West Virginia with my bff Stacey and her family.  I've gone with them several times and every time I've been on some diet or another.

The first time I went Stacey and I were doing our own version of a reboot which was mildly successful.  I lost 6lbs during the entire month that we did this.  Six whole pounds!  The second time we went I was doing the HCG diet.  I had lost 11lbs the two weeks prior to our trip and gained 8lbs during the week we were there.  Then last year I was attempting gluten free...but the food there is always so good!  Her mom's baked squashed is out of this world and flour isn't optional!

My point is, this was the first time I spent a week there without stressing over what I was going to eat or more importantly, not eat!  It was so freeing!  Having this surgery is seriously the best decision I've ever made.  I do track what I eat and I am careful about my choices, but I no longer feel out of control when it comes to eating.  I'm able to enjoy food for what it is and appreciate it rather than just consume it.  90% of the time I make good choices and 10% of the time I splurge.  I feel the way I always imagined naturally thin people must feel.  Even though I'm not thin and might never be considered thin, I FEEL normal and that's a good feeling!

It was also great to feel like I could keep up with everyone else, fit comfortably on/in furniture that wasn't made for large people and not constantly feel self-conscious from the moment I got out of bed until it was time to sleep again.  So fun!

On to the title of this blog...Carowinds!  I did it!  I WENT TO CAROWINDS!  I RODE A FREAKING ROLLER COASTER!  Actually I rode several roller coasters and water park rides!  I was supposed to go on a girls trip to the beach but it didn't work out so we spent a day at Carowinds instead.  The night before we went I couldn't sleep; I was so excited, like a kid going to Disneyland.  I was up bright and early and kept watching the clock so I could leave.  There were two roller coasters that I wasn't able to ride due to the size of my ass, but there were several others that I was able to ride and ride, I did!  I had such a blast.  My friends were laughing at me because I was so excited.  I was laughing at me too.

So Carowinds and Mud Run are two milestones that I wanted to accomplish on my weightloss journey.  The next one comes September 8th when I will be spending a day with a group of friends at the National Whitewater Center, white water rafting, kayaking, zip lining and ropes coursing.  I CAN NOT WAIT!

I'll post some pictures soon!  Promise.

Best Decision I've Ever Made

I'm such a slacker!  I know.  I'm sorry.  I've got so many projects going (more like ideas processing) that I can't seem to hone in on one long enough to actually complete any of them...including this blog, or at least a blog entry!

Anyway, my last entry was basically about the anxiety I was feeling over the impending Mud Run which was to take place a week later.  All I can say about that is, "I'm a dork."  The mud run was a BLAST!

Mel and Me at the Starting Line

Brett wasn't able to see the whole course from the spectator's area, but he was able to capture the most important part...getting muddy!

And the best part was that I finished!  I walked a lot of it, if not most but completing it was the best feeling, ever! 

Mel and I were covered from head to toe.  It took me a week to get the mud stains off of my skin.  My finger and toe nails looked like I had a wicked Cheetos addiction.  

I can't wait to do it again!

A Mud What?!

It's been almost 4 months since my last blog post.  This MIGHT be the longest I've ever gone.  For all of you who have been waiting with baited breath, I'm sorry.  I've thought about writing a couple of times but then I've thought, "what would I even write about?"  Things have really been very...boring for the past several months.  Okay, maybe "boring" isn't the right word, but I can't really think of anything super exciting that was blog-worthy.  Yes, I've been losing weight and yes, I'm feeling like a whole new person but day-to-day life has been just that!

So here's a quick summary of the past four months:  I've lost 70lbs total since December 1 and have been averaging about 10lbs a month for the last 3 or 4 months.  When I look at the big number I'm pleased, I realize that 70lbs is a LOT of weight but 10lbs per month does not seem like much considering I had my guts re-routed.  I don't let this get me down but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a tad bit disappointing.

Over the past four months I've gone to the beach three times (not bad!), seen a couple of plays, had a few girls' nights out and started working out regularly (sometimes).

I still struggle with exercise.  I'll do good for a few weeks but then something comes up like a vacation or illness or a change in my routine and I have a REALLY hard time getting back into the swing of things.  I had started the Couch to 5k running program, got through the first week, decided to do the first week again on the second week because I didn't feel ready to move on and then we went on vacation-- haven't been back since.  I know that I need to exercise- no need for lectures.  There's nothing anyone can say that will get my ass to the gym, I will do it...I WILL!  I actually got up early this morning, got dressed, put on my shoes, got in the car, drove down the street towards the gym and then turned around and came home.  Why?  Because it was raining, of course!  I know that sounds like a ridiculous excuse but in my defense it wasn't just raining it was a torrential downpour and the walk from the car to the door of the gym is kinda far if you're walking through a solid sheet of water.  Yes, I realize I could have taken an umbrella, I don't need you to point out what I could have or should have done differently, I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself...I promise!  :-D  I will exercise today, no two ways about it.  I have water aerobics tonight, which I won't miss, although it may be cancelled due to this weather.  However, I WILL go for a walk/run TODAY in my neighborhood.  Seriously!

Okay, enough of that.  Now what's the real purpose of this blog entry?  Well I'm going to do my FIRST mud run NEXT WEEKEND!  (see I can't NOT go for a walk/run through my neighborhood today!)  If you know me personally, or if you've been reading my blog for a while you probably already know how badly I've wanted to do a mud run for a LONG time.  I had hoped to be able to do the Warrior Dash in May, but I wasn't ready.  Hell!  I'm not even sure that I'm ready for this race, but I AM ready to have fun and this one, I believe, is less of a competition more of an excuse to get dirty.

I had pretty much resigned myself to waiting until the fall to do my first but then...Living Social came a-knockin on my email door and I couldn't refuse.  Well, actually I could, but I didn't want to. I saw the email, first-thing when I checked my email yesterday morning on my phone.  I didn't delete it because I wanted to look at it on my computer so I could really investigate.  When I got to my computer about an hour later, there was an email from my friend Melinda that was a forward of the Living Social deal with the words, "Let's do this!!!!! What do you say?"  I mean really, how do you say "no" to that?!  HA!

I hemmed and hawed and freaked out and looked at the race website over and over again.  I surveyed some friends and asked for advice on the Spartan Chick Facebook page and everyone said I should do it.  I didn't really expect them to say anything different.  If I did, I probably wouldn't have asked and if I didn't actually want to do it I wouldn't have even mentioned it but I still needed a good freak out session.

Every time I thought about it, which was pretty much every 10 seconds from about 7:30am until 12:00pm, I got all emotional.  Fear, excitement, joy, fear, fear, fear.  Did I mention fear?  I was fearful that I wouldn't be able to do it, fearful that people would stare or judge or just flat out wonder why I was there but mostly I was fearful of myself. I don't like to suck at things, I'm assuming no one does, but I will rarely try something unless I KNOW I'm going to be good at it.  You may have heard me say before, "I don't want to learn things, I just want to know them."  The same goes for this.  I don't want to "try" it I just want to "do" it, followed up with a loud, "but I don't want to fail!"  Which brings us to the hours of hemming and hawing.  There were many words of encouragement from others but ultimately I had to encourage myself so I decided that I was being silly.  That I should just go and have fun and get dirty and hang with my girl, Melinda.  I have no doubt that we will laugh our asses off the majority of the time and the after-look will make for a great photo-op!

I won't say that I'm not nervous anymore because that would be a lie.  The course is 3.1 miles...did I mention that yet?  No, I don't think I did.  Yeah...THREE POINT ONE MILES!  Enough said!  But knowing that six months ago this was only a dream and that today or at least next week it will be a reality is pretty mother effing THRILLING!  Even if I'm unable to complete all the obstacles and even if I walk the entire thing, I will have accomplished my MAJOR weightloss goal and will only be able to improve from there!

For your viewing pleasure...

Changes and Carrowinds and Anything else relevant...

So I'm sitting here looking at the Carrowinds website for a work related issue and I see that season tickets are on sale and I instantly get excited.

One of my major goals for weightloss surgery is to be able to ride roller coasters again- something I haven't been able to do since 1998- and even then, there were some that my butt wouldn't fit in. So here I am, down 40lbs and wondering if it's worth it to spend the $150.00 for something I may or may not be able to use. In 1999, I weighed about 250, MAYBE 240...maybe. I'm at 280 right now. Do we think I can get down to at least 240 before the beginning of summer? It seems feasible, but...ugh! I asked Brett what he thought and he seems to think that he won't be able to lose enough between now and then- so he's hesitant. Is it wrong of me to want to be completely selfish and say, I'm GOING!? God I want to go SO bad! I want my heart in my throat for at least six hours in one day, several times this year! Tell me that doesn't sound most awesome? I told him that even if we aren't able to do all the rides this year, there will be some that won't be a problem and others that may start as a problem but by the end of summer will be no problem at all. He wasn't completely convinced-- I'm going to have to work on that. I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY want a season pass! Like REALLY!!!

This brings me to "other news". These last few weeks have been jam packed and super great! It's truly amazing how much better I feel. Not just physically but mentally too. I'm able to focus better, accomplish more and think more clearly. Don't get me wrong, I'm not cured of my ADD- far from it, but I do feel a lot more in control. I feel certain that having little to no simple carbs (and even less wheat) in my diet has made a HUGE difference. I'm also certain that my hormones are leveling out a bit too. I am able to sit down at my desk and actually get a lot of work done at one time rather than spending my day trying to figure out what to do. My job is getting better and I'm finally looking forward to the next day. (I really didn't realize just how depressed I'd become.) This lack of depression is really astounding.

I have been going non-stop for a couple of weeks now. Just yesterday I worked, went to the gym, came home, cooked dinner, ate, watched some TV and then went to the grocery store. The gym and store are two things I wouldn't have done two months ago. The store, eventually, when I finally got around to it, but the gym...eh, highly unlikely-- especially not two days in a row! (I am taking the day off today though)

Tonight I'm going to a meeting for a club we joined a couple months ago, tomorrow I'm going to see a play, I'll be spending Saturday at Costco, Saturday night at a piano bar, Sunday cleaning my house, Monday having coffee with a friend (hopefully), Tuesday and Wednesday preparing for our beach trip on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday! I can't say it enough...I feel like a REAL person with a REAL life!

Even more exciting? For the FIRST TIME IN MY ENTIRE LIFE I have to get rid of clothes because they're TOO BIG! WHAT?!?!?!?! Yes! That's just insane! I'm not in need of new clothes yet, which is fine by my wallet, but there are definitely some pants that just look ridiculous on me now. Woo hoo!

Eating is going well. Maybe a little too well. I thought that my decisions would be made for me for at least the first six months, but it turns out there's nothing I can't eat. Seriously. I have had NO problems with anything I've tried, even dessert. (two bites, that's all) So it's up to me to make the right choices. I'm okay with that- the bypass is still my tool and I'm not feeling deprived at all. I'm CHOOSING to eat mostly protein and vegetables and I don't feel like I'm a slave to carbs. The best part is that when I'm at my goal weight (whatever that may be) I'll know that I earned every ounce of pride I'll have for making the choice to get healthy and fit. So that's that.

As promised...

December 1, 2011




January 28, 2012 - 8 weeks since the start of the liquid diet, 6 weeks post op.



This is the same exact dress, same exact size just a different color.

I really can't even believe that it's going to get even better than this! You have know idea how FUCKING amazing that feels. Yes, I just used the whole, real F word. That's how amazing it feels- deal with it.

I Love you Dr. Gersin!

How did you get so fat?

Before I had this surgery, I had to go through a fairly comprehensive psychological evaluation that consisted of an interview as well as 600+ questions on a computer and written test. I have no idea what I scored, I just know that the psychologist approved me for surgery. So my guess is that I'm pretty sane...

There are many reasons that people get fat or have a weight problem- one way or the other. For many it IS an eating disorder; for others...I don't know. I can only speak for myself.

I have just about every reason in the world to have an eating disorder diagnosis- broken home, abusive parent, absent father, virtually no stability (moved 20+ times before I turned 18, went to 14 different schools, the list goes on), my mom is overweight as is most of my family- food equals love. But I feel like somehow, that's not my problem. I really do not believe that I have an eating disorder. I think that I LOVE food, good food and bad food and that I have (had) bad habits- but I do not believe that I have a bad "relationship" with food- which is essentially what an eating disorder boils down to, right? Of course I've made many, MANY bad choices, but those choices weren't a product of a disorder.

Prior to surgery I had been told that I might be angry or depressed because I wouldn't be able to eat like I used to- I was fully prepared to feel that way. I even warned Brett that I might get mean or exceptionally moody or...who knows what. But I haven't. Not at all. I haven't missed any foods or felt deprived or angry that I couldn't eat. In fact, I'm happy to not be able to eat! It feels incredible to have that habit broken and I'm enjoying other things instead.

So how did I get to the point of being so big that I needed surgery? (I don't THINK I've written a blog about this yet, but if I did, here it is again- probably in much more detail)

It was a combination of things- learned habits, bad hormones and the snowball effect.

So first of all, I've always been heavy- at least since the second grade. How did that happen? Genetics? Learned behaviors? YES! What's different here is that although I was always the fat kid I didn't let it stop me- it didn't stop be from being active, it didn't stop me from playing sports, trying out for cheer leading, performing or eating. Sure, there were a few times I remember being unsatisfied with my body and wanting to try a diet but it never lasted. I guess that's a good thing? My family was aware of my "weight problem", they made comments, but it was never a BIG deal- they never forced me to go on diets or exercise or...in fact it was kind of the opposite, but I don't feel like going into that much detail right this second, mostly because I'm lazy AND I don't want to get sidetracked (shoot, it's already happening!) Okay- so...I think that BECAUSE they didn't make a huge deal of my weight, I never felt like I wasn't good enough or that food was my enemy or, I don't know, any number of things that lead to eating disorders. I guess I was lucky in that way. But ss I got older, the childhood habits and weight snowballed.

There were times when I lost weight, three that I can remember. The first was in 1999 when I was living in Los Angeles and doing Pirates Penzance, dancing four hours a day, five days a week and eating protein bars for dinner (Howard Stern said they were good- he was wrong, but I ate them anyway). I lost about 20lbs during the 8 weeks of rehearsal plus the 6 week run of five show weekends. I was already "overweight" when I was cast- about 250lbs, so I got down to about 230 by the end of the run. The second time was 2001 when I took metabolife (I LOVED that stuff!) and went from a desk job to being a preschool teacher- I lost 20lbs in one month and went from 290lbs to 270lbs. The third and final time was 2003 when I played Psuedolous in "A Funny Thing Happened...Forum"- again rehearsals five nights a weeks, blah, blah, blah. I lost another 20lbs over the course of a few months and by the end weighed about 260lbs. I just tried to find a picture of what I looked like back then but I don't know where any are- if I even have any. My point is, that unless I was losing, I was gaining. And even though those numbers seem like an insane about of weight to most people, they were just numbers to me. That was just who I was, who I've always been. Those numbers didn't stop me from dating or going out dancing or being active- they were just the number that appeared when I stepped on the scale.

It wasn't until the last few years that the weight started to bother me- age, I guess. It was around the time I turned 30. My joints started hurting and I just felt lethargic all the time. I'm sure that also had/has something to do with an extremely sedentary lifestyle. About a year prior to turning 30 I started working from home (the same job I have now) and would go days without leaving the house because there was no where I HAD to be- it was one of my new "bad habits". A habit I'm still fighinting which I'm planning to break starting Monday (more on that later). So, I continued to eat like I always had with practically ZERO activity, other than going from room to room in my house. As my body hurt worse, I stopped doing the things I used to do for fun, like dance, hike, theater, etc.-- the weight kept piling on and I felt more and more miserable.

I know many people who read this will thinking to themselves, "but HOW? how do you get to be SO big?" The answer is: I never saw it coming. I just went about my daily business and the weight creeped on, pound by pound. You see, when you've always been overweight, a little extra is really no big deal- the fat is almost invisible. It's not like when you're thin and you see every pound you put on. Think about it. If you start out with one cotton ball and add two more, you see a huge difference, right? It's those cotton balls have increase by 200%, but when you have 50 cotton balls and you add one or even 3 or 4 or FIVE, you'll barely see a change- that's kind of getting fat works. I have no idea why cotton balls popped into my head, but regardless of what the item is, the more you start with the less you notice when more is added. Yeah?

So that's that. It was a slow process, one that took a good 30 years to complete and one that is currently being dismantled, pound by mother effing pound.

It terrifies me to think that I could have gotten worse and probably would have if I hadn't taken control of the situation. I had just accepted my life the way it was- accepted the fact that I would always be fat and that was it, that was my destiny- not because of an eating disorder but because my 127lbs 11year old self had snowballed into my 300+ pound 34 year old self. The End.

Five Weeks Post Op

Well as of yesterday it's been five weeks since my surgery and all is well. I am seeing major changes in my body which is extremely exciting. My range of motion is so much better. It's amazing how much that inner tube of fat around your mid section gets in the way. And my bip (also know as the butt-hip, the never ending hip, the shelf, or the ghetto booty) is almost normal. I'm pretty sure no one has ever had a bip like mine. I could balance a glass of Dom Perignon on my bip and walked around the block without having to worry about it crashing to the ground. Sure, it would have sloshed around a lot, but it would have been secure on that protrusion of fat that could have easily seconded as a dining room table. Now it's more like a nightstand and for now, I'm okay with that.

The rest of me is getting smaller too. I can't tell you how good it feels to be on the downswing. There have been a few times in my life when I've lost some weight, but nothing like this, this is different. I guess because it's happening quickly. Well that and I've never lost THIS MUCH at one time before. I'm officially down 40lbs from December 1st. That's pretty damned amazing. I actually hadn't really thought about that until just now. (Excuse me while I go do a happy dance...)

Okay. Whew!

Now that I'm in my fifth week my diet is no longer restricted. I am free to make my own choices and that is a relief! The only time I struggled during the restricted phase was during the "liquids only". It only lasted one week, the week of my surgery, but by the fourth day I was STARVING. That pretty much sucked. But other than that it's been smooth sailing. The only thing I've really had trouble eating are scrambled eggs- which are supposed to be a staple in the post diet-- Leave it to me to be the opposite of the norm. I've been very fortunate to have not gotten "sick", but the few times that I've tried to eat eggs have hurt. Like bad. They feel like they get stuck and the base of my esophagus and just sit there, turning into nails that dig at my abdominal cavity. It's really pretty awful. But I've found that if I get up and walk around it subsides pretty quickly. I've also found that if I just avoid eggs it doesn't happen at all. :) (Though there's bound to be something else that will do the same thing- so it's good to know for future reference)

So what do I eat? Well, The last few days it's been fruit smoothies in the morning- which let me tell you...are the best damned thing that's happened since, you guessed it, sliced bread. Every morning I wake up hungry AND thirsty but I have to choose between food or drink because I can't have both at the same time and, in fact, have to wait 30 minutes between the two. So a fruit smoothie satisfies both. Heaven sent I tell you, heaven sent. So fruit smoothie in the morning, or protein hot chocolate made with coffee...yum! For lunch I was eating left overs but this week, now that I'm not longer restricted and am tolerating them well, it's CUCUMBERS and hummus with piece of salami and provolone and wedge of laughing cow or a fresh mozzarella ball. YUM!

It's funny what I can eat and what I can't eat. And what goes down easy and what doesn't. Sometimes I eat three bites and I'm done, other times I can eat four inches of cucumber, 2tbs of hummus, salami and three kinds of cheese. Weird. Eating slow is certainly key and most of the time I'm really good about it, but every once in a while I forget to chew my food to liquid and swallow too soon. Then I have to burp and burp and burp and burp and burp. Fortunately I'm a champion burper, always have been (I was actually worried that I wouldn't be able to burp after the surgery) which makes getting through some tough situations much easier...or at least quicker.

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP!

I guess that's it for now. I'll try to post some before and now pics soon. If you're half as curious as I am then we'll all be thrilled!

Like those who have gone before me, having this surgery was the best decision I've ever made.

Letting Go

So I was just sitting here at my desk thinking about this journey that I'm on. you always hear that saying- something like, it's not about the destination it's about the journey--- or something like that? I'm so bad with sayings, it's really kind of ridiculous. Anyway, I've been stressing this week because I haven't lost any weight since last Wednesday. I mean, I know how insane that is- I hope you do too! BUT, I've decided to let go. I'm not going to stress about how much I've lost or how quickly it's happening. I WILL HAPPEN. I'm not going to feel sorry for myself, even though I am feeling a little justified in my pre-op freak out about being the (mythical) 3%. I've said for a long time that my body hates me- this is not a lie. However, I also hate my body, so I guess I can't ask for much in return.

I wish that I could say something profound like, "I've decided to love my body!" and have it be some life-changing event, but that's not going to happen-- at least for a while. If I said it, it would be a lie. So forget that...for now. For now, I will be patient: I will go about my daily business, avoid the scale except at doctor's appointments (or at least I'll try) I'll eat right and exercise daily- I will give my body NO excuses for hating me. I will simply take care of simply because it is the right thing to do. I'm not going to compare my "success" to other's, I'm just going to enjoy whatever progress I make and even though I was really hoping that I would be one of those "drastic weightloss patients", I'll be happy being a successful weightloss patient- even if it takes three years to get there. --yeah, that would TOTALLY suck ass! And, I WOULD NOT be happy if it took three years, in fact, I'd be down right pissed, but eh. We'll see.

Oh, btw, I got my period yesterday. That's three times in three months- this is a first. I wonder if this is a new thing that will stick? Weird. I guess now that I've decided that I don't want kids my ovaries have decided to start working. See it's not my imagination. My body hates me! True story.

The End.

Down 30lbs from my highest (2.5 weeks pre-op, when I started the liquid diet- this is the number I like best, for obvious reasons)

Down 10lbs since day of surgery (26 days post op) GRRRRRRRR!

Joined a Gym!

I wish that "joining a gym" was actually news worthy but it really isn't. This probably the, wait, hold on, I think I can remember...this IS the fifth gym I've joined- so it's not really all that exciting or anything new for that matter. But I'm feeling better about it this time around- eh, I always feel good about it in the beginning so I guess that's not really news worthy either. Anyway, I joined a gym yesterday and I will be going for the first time TODAY!

I joined an all women's gym in hopes that I will feel confident enough to step foot in there prior to any drastic weightloss--- in order to LOSE A DRASTIC AMOUNT OF WEIGHT! Grrr...Why do I hate exercising so much? I don't mean I dislike it- I mean I HATE it! Like it makes me feel nauseated when I think about it, even just going for a walk seems like torture. SO BORING! I hate walking "for pleasure"- to me there's nothing pleasurable about it. Even though I live in a beautiful area and am surrounded by lovely parks and quaint, very walkable streets, I just can't seem to find any joy in "going for a walk". Maybe that will change with weightloss, but I doubt it. I've never enjoyed walking- seems like a waste of time. I do however love hiking and riding my bike- but those are off limits for a while. So I'm hoping that by joining a gym, AGAIN, that I will find a decent distraction in whatever is on TV while I'm on the treadmill and eventually (approximately 4 weeks from now) I'll be able to take an aerobics class or body pump or SOMETHING that doesn't require being completely stationary and/or WALKING!

You're probably thinking that I need to change my attitude, and you're probably right, but it's not going to happen...unless of course I suddenly enjoy walking. Yeah, I know, thought beget feelings, blah, blah, blah...I HATE WALKING!

So anyway- I had my two week follow up with the surgeon yesterday- also known as Mr. Personality. He's SO quiet and dry that it's almost funny. I can't do an impression of him in writing because there aren't enough descriptors in my vocabulary, but suffice it to say, he is...a great surgeon and it's a good thing the majority of his time that is spent with his patients is while they're out cold. Regardless, my appointment went well- I'm healing nicely and he's pleased with my progress. Duh.

I've moved on to "soft foods", which basically means anything except: bread (I know it's soft but it's gluey) raw vegetables, raw fruit (except bananas), dry and dryish meat, melba toast, Triscuits, and anything fried, sugary or fatty. So far, so good. This week I've dined on deli turkey and cheese, meatloaf and mashed cauliflower with peas, macaroni with meat sauce (mostly the meat sauce), grilled chicken with broccoli and Alfredo, Chex cereal with milk, sugar free pudding and Chrystal Light popsicles. It's nice to have more complex flavors and textures.

I'm supposed to eat a half a cup of food three times per day plus two snacks and LOTS of liquids and protein. Let me tell you, it's hard as hell to get that all in, in one day! I'm a big water drinker and I like to chug it but because my stomach (pouch) is to teeny tiny I can't, so I have to try to sip all day. (I'm a whiner aren't I? Sheesh!) It really is hard though. I want to chug but I have to sip and then when I'm hungry I have to wait 30 minutes since my last sip to actually eat- then wait another 30 to drink again. This leaves me feeling thirsty almost constantly. Sometimes I forget and I take a big gulp- fortunately I remember before I swallow but still. I have swallowed too much water at one time, in-fact I do it several times a day- not huge swallows, but too much. When that happens, it hurts. The pain only lasts a few seconds but it grosses me out to think about too much water in a my teen tiny pouch. I know it's supposed to stretch a bit, but thinking about it stretching gives me the eeby jeebies.

I've only lost three pounds since my last post- I think most of it is water weight. The Dr. didn't seem concerned- he says "you WILL lose weight, it's impossible not to". But if you've been reading my blog for any amount of time you know that my body is a real pistol so I can't say I'm surprised by this lack of loss. I was hoping I'd be one of those success stories that lost 90lbs in the first three months, but it's not looking like that's going to be the case. Instead I will be one of those slow steady types- greeeeat...

I guess that's all for now. Here's to walking on a treadmill for the next four weeks. Yay!

Beyond the play-by-play

Okay, so yesterday I offered a play-by-play of the past week's events; it wasn't very exciting stuff but needed to be done...sorry for the bore fest.

On to the touchy feely stuff...

Christmas Eve was my first outing since the surgery- it had been six days since the big day. Originally it was decided that we weren't going to join my family on the "Eve" and instead they would come over to our house Christmas afternoon to exchange present and hang out-- we all assumed I wouldn't feel up to going anywhere, but come Friday morning I was feeling confident that I was up for the festivities of Christmas Eve.

Side Note: I still can't believe how good I've felt throughout this process. I joked with Brett last Friday that I wasn't convinced that the surgeon actually did the procedure. I felt too good...and I was HUNGRY! Perhaps he just made a few incisions, scrambled my guts for a minute, stitched me back up and took an extra long coffee break. I had expected to not have an appetite for a long time but my stomach was growling and the clear liquids were NOT cutting it! Thank goodness for Tylenol with Codeine- made the hunger pains vanish!

Back to the point of this blog entry...Christmas Eve in my family IS Christmas. We have a spread that could feed an army- cold cuts, cheeses, olives, ham rolls (we'll get to those later) crudite, more cheese and crackers and pepperoni and dough balls (oh man! the dough balls!) plus 15 different kinds of cookies and the night is topped off with a huge pot of linguini with clam sauce. It's quite the occasion. It's kind of an open house sort-of-party, people stop by, eat a little, drink a little, talk a little and eat some more.

Before we left to head west to L-town, I packed a cooler with a can of broth, a clear protein powder drink mix and an eight pack of homemade Crystal Light popsicles. Oh and my pain meds...I was prepared! I had taken my meds at three o'clock and would be due again at seven- I was good to go!

When we got there, my sisters dining room table was already lined with food-- it was beautiful. My first glance was a bit emotional. I actually felt a little choked up knowing that I wouldn't be able to eat any of the once-a-year Italian delicacies...but I took a deep breath and said to myself, "you'll live, Andrea" and that was that. The mourning was over. I did find myself wanting to grab a piece of cheese or salami or SOMETHING a few times but that was only out of habit and because it was there. It was weird to NOT walk by the table and snag a cookie but it wasn't hard. There were a few times that I contemplated pulverizing a ham roll in my sisters blender- technically I was supposed to be on CLEAR LIQUIDS until Monday, BUT I felt like I was ready for some blenderized food-- but I didn't. When the dough balls (perhaps the best part of Christmas Eve) went in the fryer, I heated up my can of broth and sipped it spoonful by spoonful. It hit the savory spot and I survived the DOUGH BALLS!

My family kept giving me apologetic looks. They felt bad eating in front of me and were sorry that I couldn't enjoy the food with them-- but really, I was okay. I wasn't sad at all. I knew when my surgery date was scheduled that I wouldn't be eating on Christmas and I was okay with that...I still am. Eating is what got me to where I am now (or was, 20lbs ago-- yes, I'm down 20lbs since the two-week-prior liquid diet!) and I knew I would survive without dough balls- I'm living proof to show that it IS possible to survive with dough balls- it IS surprising, but true.

I made it the whole night sipping soup and sucking on my Chrystal Light popsicles- which happened to be a big hit with all the kids that were there- I was happy to share. I made it the whole night without temptation until JUST before we left. Remember those ham rolls I mentioned before? Remember how I thought about blending one up? Well, I didn't go that far, BUT I did squeeze the cream cheese out of one and swirled it around in my mouth for a minute- it wasn't even enough to swallow, but it sure was tasty. Who knew ham infused cream cheese could be so delectable?

The next day I decided I was ready to start my pureed diet. Brett made me four hard boiled eggs which I practically liquified with some mayo and calorie free honey mustard and I boiled a potato to make mashed potatoes. They were the best "egg salad" and mashed potatoes I'd EVER had! I finally finished off that egg salad this morning for breakfast and I still have half the mashed taters in the fridge. Crazy, huh?

So what HAVE I been eating? Well, eggs salad and mashed potatoes- two table spoons at a time. The hardest part is not drinking 30 minutes before, with or 30 minutes after eating. I'm finding that I'd rather drink water than eat and occasionally "forget" about the 30 minute rule. It's hard I tell you! HARD! Perhaps the hardest thing I've ever done! Okay, now that's an exaggeration, but it is hard. Actually, I'll tell you what's harder than hard...GETTING IN ALL THE FRICKEN VITAMINS THAT I'M SUPPOSE TO GET IN MY BODY IN ONE FREAKIN DAY!!! I've accomplished this ONCE so far. It seems near impossible. ---I know, I don't need a lecture. I'll try harder. I promise.

I guess that's all for now. So far so good. I feel fantastic and I have nothing to complain about. I will try to update at least once a week to keep track of my progress and document my journey.

Oh one last thing that you may find funny or disgusting or just plain wrong, but I'm happy to report that not only have I not thrown up even once (a common occurrence with gastric by-pass) but my bowels are working like the old pros they are- this makes me extremely happy!

One Week Post Op

Woohoo! It has been eight days since my surgery and I have (almost) nothing to complain about!

The night before the surgery was rough. Both Brett and I had a terrible time trying to sleep. We tossed and turned and talked and snuggled and tossed and turned some more. We tried to go to bed early since we needed to be at the hospital at 5:15 in the morning, but Brett finally gave up on sleep at about 12:30 and I think I finally fell asleep around 1am. Brett woke me up at 3:30, I jumped in the shower, got dressed, kissed the dog and we were out the door. I wasn't scared or nervous just anxious and ready to get it over with. There were short moments during the last couple of days leading up to that morning where I thought about changing my mind but come that morning I was ready with no hesitation.

When we got to the hospital we checked in- all my paperwork had been completed during a pre-op visit three weeks earlier- they gave me my arm band and I waited to be called back. We sat there for what seemed like an eternity, in fact they didn't actually take me back until almost 6:30 (I think). When I got to the pre-surgical area, they made me pee in a cup and change into a hospital gown. A bunch of people came in and talked with me one at a time asking all kinds of questions and eventually the nurse anesthetists put in my IV. After that, Brett and my mom were able to come back and sit with me until it was time for me to go back- which wasn't long. My surgery was scheduled for 8am.

The last thing I remember is someone putting an oxygen mask on me and that was it. I woke up some time later in recovery with a personality-lacking nurse attending to me. What would be a huge nuisance to me for the next several days was immediately apparent...GAS! Being the champion burper that I am, I immediately started burping- I could tell she was impressed even though she didn't get excited about it. I don't remember being in recovery very long before they wheeled me up to my room. I don't remember what I was saying but I do remember chatting along the way. I believe it was about 2pm.

I didn't feel much pain other than the gas- I'm sure the morphine played a big part.

Oh you know what I forgot to mention? If you've been following my blog for a while now, you know how much my ovaries hate me, so guess what? They didn't let me down, I got my period three days before my surgery and it was in full force come surgery day. --I had even taken provera three weeks prior to make sure I'd have a period prior to surgery, when I got it on December 1st, I figured I was in the clear for the 19th...WRONG! Seriously...only me!

Anyway, that afternoon was a bit of a blur. I remember meeting my awesome nurse, I remember my mom and Brett being there. I remember my mom leaving and a flower delivery and I remember eventually getting up to go to the bathroom-- I'm pretty sure I know what it's like to have a baby now...modesty is not an option.

I got up and walked the hall at some point with Brett- the nurse promised me it would help with the gas- she lied.

I slept pretty good that night, in between vitals checks. Tuesday morning I got up and sat in the chair for a while, went for a few walks and drank teeny tiny sips of water from a medicine cup. Brett stayed the night with me Tuesday night we went for lots of walks and I took a much needed sponge-bath. The next morning the doctor came in and gave me a clean bill and told me I could go home before noon. I couldn't believe how good I was feeling. I'd been off the morphine since the night before and had moved onto liquid pain meds- Tylenol with codeine to be exact. There was a brief period when I had gone too long without the meds and found myself in a lot of pain, needing to get out of bed so I could pee when the vitals-girl came around, it was no surprise that my blood pressure had spiked. The nurse came in and pushed some meds through my IV and I was ready to go! I finally got to leave about two hours later.

The ride home was somewhat stressful- I had taken a swig of the pain meds just before we left so the pain wasn't too bad, but it was raining and I was dreading a potential slam of the breaks...it never happened, Brett drove very carefully, but I stressed about it none-the-less.

The rest of the week I mostly just laid around, went for short walks and tried my hardest to drink the recommended 64oz of fluid, which DID NOT HAPPEN-- still hasn't happened but I'm working on it. I felt surprisingly good. Still gassy, very gassy, miserably gassy, but otherwise pretty damned good so good in-fact that I decided we should join my family for the traditional Christmas Eve Party tradition. It was the first day I had put on clothes, did my hair and put on make up in a week-- this is not unusual for me since I work from home, but it felt like a huge accomplishment. When we got to my sister's house everyone was surprised at how good I looked, claiming it looked like I had already looked thinner. The fact of the matter was that I actually weighed more that day than I did the day of my surgery. I had actually GAINED 11 pounds post op- I guess from all of the fluids they pumped in me. Come Saturday I had only lost nine of those eleven pounds so it was probably more that the stitches were pulling my skin tight making me LOOK thinner. :)

Today is Tuesday, it's been eight days since my day of days and I'm now down two pounds from the day of- 15lbs since I started the liquid diet started 3 1/2 weeks ago...I'm hoping the weightloss will pick up- I guess if you count the post op weight gain, I'm actually down 13lbs in one week, eh.

I had so much that I wanted to write over the past week but just couldn't find the clarity or motivation until now and now I feel like I'm missing the point. I do plan to blog more often about this journey- I know for me, reading other blogs has been incredibly helpful and if I can help someone else on their journey with mine I'd be a happy, happy girl.

So, I promise to post more...soon! Actually, I think I'm going to write a second one right now that isn't so boring and IS more informational for those interested in the "process".

Thanks for reading! Questions and comments welcome!

Stressballs! One week to go!

Today is Tuesday, December 13th and in seven days I will go under the knife! I love how dramatic that sounds!

I have been on a liquid diet for ELEVEN days! I'm so proud of myself. I thought these two weeks would be impossible but it's been pretty easy. In fact, these last couple of days I've barely had an appetite at all. I won't say that I don't miss or care about food, that would be a lie. But I've had literally NO cravings- temptations yes, but cravings, no. It probably helps that I've made every effort to avoid any kind of temptation- haven't gone to a restaurant, won't watch food commercials and try hard not to pay too close attention to people eating in movies or on TV, but I still live with a food-eater and some times his food looks and smells SO good! Last night it was saltines dipped in Ranch Dressing- a snack I would usually dismiss but instead it made my mouth water. I could taste the light and airy, salty, crunchy saltines with the sweet-savory tang of the Ranch. I looked at Brett and said, "one bite! just one!" But he didn't hand me one so I just looked away. Actually, I think I got up and washed some dishes.

You may be thinking, that if I can have this kind of will-power right now, why can't I just lose the weight without surgery. I'll tell you...because two weeks is doable, but MONTHS of this- no way! It's not sustainable- nor is it healthy. Three weeks from now I SHOULD (providing everything goes smoothly) be able to eat about a tablespoon of "egg salad" and let me tell you how much I'm looking forward to that! SO forward!

I've been doing a lot of reading of other people's weight-loss experiences on random blogs- I've found it's a good way to keep me focused on the prize. I'm immensely grateful to those who shared their stories- I am feeling more prepared for what's to come.

I know there will be many physical changes, which I'm SO looking forward to but the mental and emotional changes are, I think, going to be the most challenging and perhaps the most dramatic. I can already feel myself getting antsy.

Over the past few years I've created a bit of an insulated cell for myself- a very "safe" environment and have all but given up on things that used to make me happy. Acting, mostly. I haven't even done a show for three years. I've gone to a couple of auditions for things I barely cared about, but I haven't had the energy, confidence or ambition to actively pursue any roles. I thought that it was because I'd fallen out of love with it but I'm realizing now that I'm feeling hopeful about my future; that I just shoved my desires down so I wouldn't have to think about them.

These past eleven days have been quite eye opening. Sad and exciting all at the same time. I didn't realize just how much I haven't felt like myself in so long. I haven't felt truly happy in...a while. I mean, I'm happy, or at least, I'm not unhappy. But I haven't felt that feeling of pure JOY in a long time. I felt joy when the kids were here- but it wasn't pure joy. It was circumstantial joy. Even when I laugh, there is a feeling of literal (not figurative) weight behind my eyes, in my head and on my shoulders. It's physical. I can feel it. (Might just be the weight of being pulled down by the size of my giant ass- figuratively and literally!) But I didn't even notice it until just this week. I guess it's probably depression- the circumstantial kind, hopefully. So like I said, this is both sad and exciting...and a little bit terrifying- but I'm trying not to think about that right now. Okay, maybe I will- just for a minute.

I have two friends who had the surgery last year who have both recently ended their marriages. This scares the ever living shit out of me. I have a gypsy spirit as it is, and the thought of changing so much in this next year to the point of wanting to leave my husband is very upsetting. I know that they both had issues in their marriages long before the surgery and they say that the end was inevitable, but that doesn't make me feel concerned about my own. I love Brett with almost every ounce of my heart. (The other couple of ounces currently belong to Zooey Deschanel.) But I also know, like I said before, that I can feel change a-comin'. I'm getting antsy- not in my marriage, but in my job, my goals, what defines me. Are we going to survive? I have ZERO intention of leaving him...ever. But what happens if I decide that I NEED to go do "something"- like pursue the career that I've avoided for the last several years and he is unwilling to participate? Or what if I get so full of myself that I suddenly think I'm too good for him (I don't think that possible). Or what if I get so annoying that he can't stand it anymore or what if I turn into a complete emotional wreck and go crazy and have to be institutionalized or, what if, what if, what if?

THESE THINGS HAPPEN PEOPLE!

I talk myself down from these thoughts, reminding myself that there's really no way of knowing what the next year will be like. I tell myself, remember last December?

One year ago toady, I was sitting in a hospital room with my sister waiting for my nephew to be born- wanting so badly to be the one giving birth. Brett and I were preparing for our trip to spend the Holidays with friends and family in Phoenix and we had just spent that last several months preparing our home for foster children, 2 children ages 2-6.

My nephew will be a year old tomorrow, I no longer talk to my in-laws (the ones we were spending the holidays with), we ended up with 3 foster children, 7, 9 and 11 who have since gone on to be with their birth-mom and Brett and I have no interest in having children what-so-ever. ONE YEAR! Oh and surgery? Yeah, surgery wasn't even a consideration!

With all of this said, one year from now I'd like to be writing a blog about our recent trip to Costa Rica where we zip-lined and white water rafted through the rain forest, laid on white sandy beaches, shopped at the street-markets and swam in the ocean...Brett and I had an amazing time. Our new and healthy life together is everything we dreamed it would be...Oh and I have the best job in the whole wide world, _________.

The countdown begins

My surgery is in exactly 17 days and I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.

I started my liquid diet today, something I've been dreading for months but now that today is here I'm pretty okay with it. I'm actually not supposed to start until Monday but I decided to start today. I gained five pounds over the past month (might have had something to do with Thanksgiving and/or my period- who knows) that I need to be sure to lose before the surgery so I figured I might as well get a head-start.

It's funny...I thought that I would totally freak out having to give up food during this time but instead I'm finding myself excited about it. For the first time in my life I feel not just hopeful that I will lose weight, but confident that it will happen. There have been countless times in my life that I've tried to diet but other than a few pounds at the beginning I've never had much success. The lack of success led to feeling like a failure which quickly led to giving up and feeling even more like a failure, especially since giving up meant gaining back the weight that I had lost plus more.

My body is a mess. I have been significantly overweight for as long as I can remember. When people (doctors included) ask me what my goal weight is I tell them I have no idea. It's true, I really don't. Based on BMI standards I should weigh between 105 and 135lbs. The problem is, I haven't weight 135 since I was 11 years old! Do you think you could ever weigh what you weighed in grade school?! NO! So the thought of having an "appropriate BMI" seems pretty fricken impossible.

When I think back to a time that I was a "healthy weight", when I was super active (and the same height I am now) I think about 1990, when I was almost 14 and weighed 165lbs. I was still "big", still the "fat kid" (compared to others my age), but I was doing gymnastics five days a week and probably in the best shape of my life. I still had a dimple of cellulite on my upper left thigh but I was otherwise pretty toned or as toned as I could be. (My mom would always tell me my butt was so hard!) So I've decided that my ultimate weight goal is 165lbs, I don't know if it's actually attainable- like I said, I was 14 years old the last time I weighed that much, but I'm definitely going to give it a try. However, instead of stressing myself out over a number on the scale, my main focus is fitness. There are so many things I want to be able to do, one of them is a Mud Run- a 3 mile obstacle course...IN THE MUD! There's one in May 2012 which I think would be AWESOME, but since I have no idea how much weight I will have lost by then or more importantly what kind of shape I'll be in, it might be a little far fetched. I think I'll know better come February whether or not that goal is reasonable. Is it February yet?!

I had a little melt down on Monday. I have been seeing a therapist in anticipation of the surgery as well as other issues I'm trying to work through (ADD for one) and she told me during our visit on Monday that if I was going to be successful at losing weight I was going to need to be regimented. Anyone who knows me, knows that regiment is a like four letter word in my book. It's probably what I need most in my life (especially for the ADD) but it's EXTREMELY difficult for me to fathom and even more so, to implement. Grr! So armed with this bit of information I came home feeling like I was going to fail. There was no doubt in my mind. I mean, I had already been worried about it. For the past several weeks I'd been worrying that I was going to fail, that I'd be the 3% (or whatever the number is) that the surgery doesn't work for and that'd be it. It'd be one more failed diet to add to my list of failures. I was feeling depressed and stressed to the max, then when she told me that I'd have to be regimented it was like one more nail in the failure-coffin. So I cried...a lot. Brett was such a trooper, he listened, tried to be reassuring and of course laughed at me a little because well, that's what he does. I laughed a little at myself too. I knew I was being ridiculous but I couldn't help it. There's a LOT of pressure involved with all of this. Expectations for something that there's no way of knowing what to expect. (I DO NOT LIKE NOT KNOWING WHAT TO EXPECT!)

I finally decided to call my friend Kayce who had the surgery last year and she was able to talk me down. She has had INSANE results that I had chalked up to being "luck" but when she told me how hard she's worked, how she's stuck to the diet and exercised regularly I realized "duh! I can do that too!" I hadn't realized just how dumb I was being about the whole situation. I mean, I KNEW that it was going to be "hard", that's what everyone tells you, but I just thought they meant it was going to be hard to eat (or not to eat), not that the process was going to be hard work! Yes, I know how dumb that sounds and no, I did not think that it was going to be easy, I just didn't...I don't know, I just thought it was going to come down to luck.

Anyway, something clicked and I'm feeling so much better. For whatever reason, I have a tendency to make things more difficult that they need to be. Like, I am almost literally the one who goes around my ass to get to my elbow with everything in life, but once something clicks I'm brilliant. So watch out! My brilliance is about to SHINE, BIG TIME!

As for being regimented, I'm not going to stress too much about that. It will be fine. I'll get my protein in everyday and limit my carbs everyday and I'll exercise (when I'm feeling better) and I will be successful!

The weight I lose today and the next day and the next day will be the last time I EVER see those pounds AGAIN! And that my friends is the best feeling in the world!

Goings on as of Late...

Well, I'm less than five weeks from the day of my surgery (December 19th) and less than three weeks from the first day of the two-week-long dreaded liquid diet!

This whole surgery thing has sparked an array of emotions that I hadn't really expected. When I first decided that surgery was my best (only) option I felt at peace. It had been a long time coming. Something that had been mentioned to me by others but something that I wouldn't even consider because I didn't want to put off getting pregnant in order to have the surgery. Once we decided we didn't want to have kids that excuse no longer existed so I was free to do whatever I wanted.

At my initial surgical consult, I learned that I was going to have to do a three month doctor supervised weightloss plan but I wasn't going to be able to see the doctor for over a month from the day of the consult. So even though I had made the decision in May, had gone to the seminar in late May, had the consult the first of June...it was going be July 14th before I'd be able to start the required "plan"-- it seemed like an eternity.

Come September, we found out that our insurance was going to change as of January 1st and I started to freak out a little. I'd already done everything except my last follow-up visit and I was ready! So ready to get the surgery DONE! And I started worrying that the insurance company wasn't going to cover it. No Bueno!

I knew there was nothing I could do other than wait and be patient but that wasn't easy.

On October 14th, I went for my last follow up appointment. The doctor signed off on everything so that it could be sent off to the insurance company. While checking out, the clerk told me that they would send everything over to the insurance company the next day and that my insurance company usually take about six weeks to get an authorization so I could expect my surgery to be around the first of the year. WHAT?! NO! I explained to her that my insurance was going to change and that I really needed to get it done before the first of the year so she called the lady in the office who handles the insurance stuff and left her a message to call me.

That was a Tuesday. She didn't call. So Thursday I called her and explained the situation. She said that she was sending everything over that day and I'd probably hear something within 3-4 weeks. Grrrrr!

Not an hour went by that I didn't think about my surgery. Wondering if it was going to happen, knowing that it was completely out of my hands. It was up to someone who had never met me to decide if my surgery would be paid for and since it wasn't something I could afford out of pocket I felt like my future was in that person's hands.

For the past several months, ever since I'd decided to have the surgery, I felt like a whole new world had been opened up for me or at least WILL be opened up for me next year. As long as I can remember I've been living for, next year. I've been on a diet, trying to lose weight for all of my adult life, saying to myself "next year I'm going to go kayaking." "Next year, I'm going to ride the roller coasters and Carrowinds" "Next year I'll be able to buy that dress" "Next year...." I've been living for next year for 15+ years! And now, FINALLY NEXT YEAR WILL COME! Hooray for surgery! If it get's approved. Crap,what if it doesn't get approved? Then what? And what have I been doing for the past 15 years? How much of my life, the best time of most people's lives, have I wasted? I mean, I haven't just sat around and done nothing but there have certainly been MAJOR things that I have put off doing for as long as I can remember. And always living for "next year?" Yeah, that blows.

So I spent most of September and October feeling sorry for myself, realizing just how much of my life I've wasted. I'm still not over it but I am feeling more optimistic-- sort of.

I ended up get the authorization on Tuesday, October 25th. Just four working days after the paperwork had been submitted. HOLY COW! That's like record time! I was elated! It felt like I had just been cast as Mrs. Lovett in Sweeny Todd. A goal that I had set out to accomplish had been attained! I did it! It's really going to happen!

All day Tuesday I was beaming! As well as most of Wednesday, part of Thursday, some of Friday...by the follow Monday I was only barely beaming. As of today, I'm mostly beaming but the reality had certainly set in.

I'm not really scare of dying- the likelihood of that is extremely slim, however, it is major surgery and of course that risk is there. The way I see it, I'm barely living so that small risk is one I'm willing to take. Besides, if I do die, I'll be dead, I won't even know or care, it's my friends and family that I worry about. But only a little, because I'm not planning on dying. Moving on. What the realization/fear that has really set in is- failing. I've failed at so many diets and so many attempted lifestyle changes. I have so many learned bad habits and issues with food and since I've never been much of a self motivator, how will I do this on my own? How will I be successful? Growing up, I was never taught to expect to succeed. I was taught to expect to fail. Of course I was never told, "you're going to fail" but I always had hear the words of "the devil's advocate". Apparently my family has a direct line to Satan. This is not a bash against my family, this is a realization of the affects of negative thinking even though they meant well.

So now I'm working to try to over come these fears. I'm seeing a psychologist who is helping me to work through this stuff. She is taking a logical route. Telling me I should make a plan, set a schedule and get regimented. Until this very moment (literally just had an epiphany) I was fighting her tooth and nail. But she's right. For whatever reason, emotional problem solving is not my forte. At least not solving my OWN emotional problems. Instead of searching for solutions I search for answers. (Mom, I know you're reading this...you do the same thing!) The fact of the matter is, that it doesn't matter WHY I eat or WHY I do much of anything, instead it's a matter of HOW to fix it.

I suddenly feel better. Deep breath.

I'm sure I will have more ups and downs before December 19th but I'm going to try to focus on solving the problem with real, tangible tactics rather than looking for some answer to make it all make sense.

The End.

BBWs and the Men Who ? ? ? ? Them

A couple days ago I came across some pictures on someone's facebook page of a "Fat Acceptance Party". All of the pictures were of extra large women scantily dressed, surrounded my men who couldn't reach their arms around them. In the comments section below there were dozens, sometimes hundreds of comments from other men telling these women just how beautiful they were and it made me angry...

As a plus sized gal, I have been referred to as a BBW on many occasions. I have even capitalized on my stature a time or two for attention from men and for work as an actor. So don't get me wrong, I’m not saying that BBW's should not be proud or take advantage of their bodies in a healthy way. However, I have a real problem with chubby chasers (men who love BBWs) and I have an even bigger problem with the organizations who encourage the “chubbies” to deliver.

It has been a while since I was single, but I still remember it well. Going to the clubs and getting hit on by men—often. And internet dating-- a lot.

I guess I should start off by saying that growing up, my mom always taught me to be proud of who I was because that's why people would love me. She didn't go out of her way to make me feel fat or tell me so, but she and I were always aware of it. I know she meant well when she encouraged me to focus on my personality but it also made me very cognizant of the fact that no one would be "physically attracted" to me so I needed to make sure I had something to offer. This being said, it came as a HUGE surprise to me when, shortly after my first husband and I split up at age 25, I was suddenly attracting the attention of men- lots of men. Until then I was completely unaware that I possessed any sex appeal whatsoever.

Finally drawing the attention of men had me craving that attention more and more. I began posting my dating profile on several match-up websites, specifying my body-type as "more to love" and "pleasantly plump”-- the emails were flying in. I was getting the attention that my skinny friends always got, the attention that I always wanted. These men would present themselves like they were my knight in shining armor. Telling me how beautiful I was, and how they could "appreciate" a woman like me. It felt good-- until I realized what was really going on. CHUBBY CHASERS ARE LEGAL PREDATORS!

Now for my rant:

Men who like fat women are no better than men who don't like fat women- yet somehow they are applauded for their “ability to see past the fat”. Bullshit. The fact of the matter is that we are physically attracted to people before we are emotionally attracted to them and chubby chasers are no different. What makes chubby chasers bad, even harmful, is that they encourage not only an unhealthy lifestyle but they are the WORST about objectifying women. What's worse than that is that these women, who feel like outcasts in daily life, find tolerance and even acceptance in a strange underground community of BBWs and the men who love them-- If you look at pictures from one of the parties or conventions that these “fat acceptance” organizations offer, you’ll see more cleavage, corsets and skin than the trashiest of Halloween party.

These organizations say they are all about promoting awareness and acceptance and yet all they are doing is isolating themselves all while exploiting themselves for attention and...love? I don't have a problem with being proud of who/what you are no matter your shape, size, ethnicity, sexual preference or religion, but it bothers me that these women are being taken advantage of. They are blinded by the admiration and desires of men to the point of becoming completely unaware of what's really going on.

I realize that this may seem unfair- that I'm generalizing and making sweeping assumptions and accusations-- of course there are always exceptions, but you will not convince me that what I have to say doesn't hold true for the majority of the "large" population.

Sociologically (generally) speaking, women want to feel desired by men. We crave that attention to the point of requiring it in order to feel validated. Sociologically (generally) speaking, men are in control and possess all the power -- don't go getting all women's lib here! Tell me the last time one of your girlfriends fretted over whether or not the guy she met last night is going to call her. Now tell me the last time a dude did the same thing. Okay, moving on...as I was saying, women, generally speaking, feel the need to be validated by men, this makes them powerless and at the mercy of a man's desire. This is the TRUE foundation for BBW organizations, they just camouflage it as a way to promote acceptance. It’s not love, it’s a fetish. These women are being objectified.

It makes me sad for all of the overweight women out there who have not just accepted their “fate” but have embraced it and are using it to solicit (a deluded) love. It makes me sad that they will die young, deceived by a sexual fantasy leaving them to value their fat rather than themselves.

I’m not saying any of this because I think I’m better than anyone else. I’m saying it because I want women, especially overweight women to expect more for their lives. Organizations that encourage this lifestyle are doing a disservice and injustice for women.

“Fat acceptance” is a crock. Respect yourself and your body. Don't let it define who or what you are.

Mortality

I recently realized that my sense of mortality is holding me back. Not so much the dying part, but the aging part. I just turned 34 and leading up to this birthday, for the last few years in fact, I've been feeling like my life was almost over. I think a lot of it has to do with my weight and constantly feeling sluggish and unable to do the things I actually want to do but I'm also acutely aware of my mom at 40.

Leading up to my mom's 40th birthday she became temporarily disabled and temporarily bed ridden because of her back. My memory is foggy because I was young when it happened, but I do know that from there things got worse, more permanent. I don't remember how long she was laid-up, might have been three days, might have been a week, might have been longer. But I do know that she was in a lot of pain and that pain led to more pain which eventually ended up requiring spinal surgery and two knee replacements-- she has been on permanent disability ever since.

These days she gets around just fine, but she can't work long hours and still has certain limitations. I have never seen my mom run or jump. I have never seen her hike or kayak or canoe or swim in a lake, river or ocean-- I don't know if I've ever seen my mom sit on her knees. This has completely warped my sense of age and ability.

My mom has been overweight for as long as I've known her, she's been lighter than she is now and she's also been a lot heavier too. This is my normal. This is what I've always expected for myself. I thought being thin and fit and active was for others and I have always been jealous of that.

But not anymore. I WILL learn to live my life the way I want to live it. YES I WILL!

I have one more doctor appointment left in order to meet all of the prerequisites for gastric by-pass surgery and I can't wait! As long as the insurance company authorizes it: This will be my last summer wishing I could white water raft, my last fall wanting to go to Carrowinds, my last winter not going snow-tubing. Next year is MINE! I WILL do all of the things that I have been putting off for years because this is the year that I will start living!

I accomplished quite a bit these first 34 years, I can't wait to see what the next 34 bring!

LIBERATED!

Oh man! I never thought having a little piece of plastic/copper shoved up my hoo-ha could be so grand! I just got home from the GYN where my doctor delicately and close-to-painlessly inserted my brand new Paragard IUD!

I no longer have to stress about birth control and can move on with my life!

The procedure didn't feel good but now that it's over, I can CERTAINLY say it was worth it!

No more BIG, FAT lies!

I am almost 34 years old. For 27 years I have been overweight or at least aware that I was overweight. And for all 27 of those years I have done everything I could to keep it a secret. I know that sounds ridiculous but it’s true. It’s the one thing about me that I have tried to keep hidden for as long as I can remember, knowing full and well that it was impossible to disguise.

I tried to dress, as my mom put it, in flattering clothes; I participated in athletics, did theater, stayed active and pushed myself to keep up with my skinny friends. In my mid 20’s I somewhat embraced my “size”. I realized that there were men out there who sought “large women”. I went to clubs and danced, got hit on, felt attractive and even more so, I felt validated. (Which I later realized was just being objectified) Yet, even then, I wasn’t proud of my body, I hadn’t even accepted it, I just kind of pretended like it wasn’t what it was. After all, people were always telling me how beautiful I was and men were paying attention to me. I was getting roles in plays, perhaps being a little type-cast, but hey! At least I was getting parts! It actually seemed to be working in my favor.

However, the little nagging voice, the constant secret insecurity just wouldn’t let go. It was my deepest darkest secret that I never really shared with anyone, even my closest friends. People always thought I was extremely confident and often commented on how much they admired that confidence. And even when I’d try to tell them that I didn’t really FEEL that confident, they’d laugh it off and say, “well you sure can’t tell!”

I kept up this facade for about 25 years, maybe even 26 as it was just recently that I finally faced up to the truth. I am not only overweight, I am MISERABLE. Extremely miserable.

I am not living the life I want for myself. This has nothing to do with vanity, it has to do with lifestyle. I have spent so many years stressing over things, distracting myself with “how to get happy” – moving from house to house, city to city, state to state; making bad choices in men just to be with someone, having semi-annual career meltdowns, obsessing over having children; etc.. But now that I have found all of the things I have been looking for, now that I have found peace from those peripheral distractions, now that I am happily married, have had the same job for almost five years, own a beautiful home and have a “stable” life, I am still left with ME.

Over the last few years I’ve known five people who have lost a significant amount of weight. Their weight-loss has been astonishing; the transformation in their LIVES has been inspiring. Four of them have had weight-loss surgery and one, my dear friend was able to do it with Weight Watchers (because she’s awesome, that buggar!) Her drive, patience and determination are to be admired.

Gastric by-pass has been mentioned to me several times over the last couple of years-by one doctor, and a few friends who have seen the lack of success I’ve had with “diets”, but I dismissed it because I was so baby crazy and felt that my biological clock was ticking. I would say, “If I decide today that I want the surgery, it will be six months before I can have it, then another year, minimum, before I can get pregnant.” That would put me at 33, 34, 35, depending on how old I was at the time of the conversation, which in my opinion at the time was, too old.

Eh.

Well, now that I’m ALMOST 34, I’m still fat and still don’t have a baby (which, if you read my last blog, you know I’m TOTALLY ok with now) --I have NO excuses! So this blog will now shift to my current journey- getting rid of this shit that has in-truth been what has consumed me since 1984 when Cara, one of my fellow Brownies (Girl Scouts) came to school and told my class that I had popped her waterbed at her birthday party the previous weekend—that was also the day I found my sense of humor.

***

On May 26th, I went to the mandatory informational seminar which ended up providing a wealth of information and made me feel confident that Gastric Bypass is the right choice for me. I had my first consultation with the surgeon on June 3rd and started the three month insurance-mandated doctor-supervised weight loss program on July 14th. So far I have met with the fitness person, started daily injections of some kind of medication to help suppress my appetite (which seems to be working, yay!) and did an in-home sleep study on Tuesday. On the 6th I will hopefully go for my psych eval (providing the psychologist comes back from medical leave before then), the 11th I will go for an endoscopy and on the 15th, I will have my second-month doctor visit as well as a bone density and metabolism test- LOTS OF HOOPS! From that point on, it should be pretty easy sailing, just two more doctor visits and a couple of appointments with the dietician. I’m hoping to have everything completed by my last doctor visit on 10/17 at which time, providing everything goes smoothly, they will send off the paperwork to get the authorization for surgery.
If all goes according to MY plan, 2011 will make my 27th year of being fat, my last. A lot of boxes need to be checked between now and the middle of October, Aetna needs to be on the ball with the approval and my surgeon has to be willing to operate around the holiday season, but HOPEFULLY, 2012 will be the first time I’ve EVER accomplished that New Year’s resolution: LOSE WEIGHT! And start living the life I was meant to live, not the BIG, FAT lie that has become my life.