Weekly Weigh In ... with a side of ranting...topped with love

So... I decided every monday I'm going to do a weekly weigh in. I figure it will keep me held accountable for everything and ensure that I blog at least once a week.  I find that blogging helps ME.  I could really give a crap if other people read this, but writing everything down and getting it out of my head really helps me. 

 So my plan is every Monday morning, after going to the bathroom but before I eat... I am going to weigh myself and take a picture and share it on my blog and talk about it and all that nonsense. 

So here is my weigh in for today, 9/26/2011-- 19 weeks post op ( I kinda wish I started doing this in the beginning, but... hindsights always 20/20) 

 227lbs.  December 28th 2010, I weighed 346 lbs.  On the date of my surgery I weighed 298lbs. 

Thats a total loss of 119lbs.  Since surgery... 19 weeks ago... I lost 71 pounds.  Seventy-One pounds... in 19 weeks.  Thats insane.  That equals out to an almost 4 lbs a week loss rate.  Freakin insane!  I'm like... 97 lbs away from goal.  freaking crazy.

So thats that. 

So.. lately I've been having a kind of hard time dealing with some of the changes post-op.  I'm still dealing with the loss of my best friend, Food and I'm having a hard time breaking up with my fat. Its like when a kid loses their favorite blankie.  My fat is my security blanket... I've already talked about this. All I've ever been is the fat funny girl.  Being a fat girl is what developed my personality and made me who I am today.  I was funny so people would laugh WITH me as opposed to AT me... I was the smart kid because my homework would never make fun of me.  Don't get me wrong... I had friends... lots of them... but when it came down to it... I really didn't have play dates or do things with all my friends because they were always part of a sports team.  Yeah.. I was a baton twirler and I did dance for years...   but I was still fat.  I was always the fattest kid in the room.  Always.  I over compensated.

So ... now I'm trying to figure out who I am.  Or who I want to be.  And throughout this process... I've lost friends... family members... but... I knew that was going to happen.   I didn't think I would get so twisted about everything... but I did. 

And now... fuck it.  I don't care if people hate me now. I don't care if you think I'm becoming narcissistic (which... by the way, I ALWAYS claimed to be one so... I dont understand what the problem is now). I don't care if you get mad at me if I don't stop people from commenting on how great I look or when they ask me about my surgery. 

I'm damn proud of everything I've done and I'm sure as hell not going to let anyone take that away from me. I'm at a point in my life where I'm allowed to be selfish.  Dont you DARE try to take that away from me.  You don't like it? Don't talk to me then.  At this point I really don't care.  I'm putting MYSELF first.   I have always done what people told me to do.  I always would put myself way down on that list.  I can NO longer worry about who wants to be in life and who doesnt.  I don't care about what people think of me anymore.  If you don't like this new version of me... then leave! Clearly then... you're not a real friend of mine if you can't accept me for who I am and always have been.  

Yes. Do I look in the mirror more now? Absolutely... because I can't believe this is actually happening.  Do I ask how I look in clothes more now? Yeah.. because I don't have to limit myself to just fat girl clothes from one of three stores I was able to shop at and now I can fit into mainstream clothing stores like Old Navy (and not even their largest size, thank you very much) and I'm trying to find my own personal style. 

If that makes me a terrible person.  Or if talking to someone who asks about my surgery bothers you... or whatever... I don't care.  I'm not gonna let it grind my gears anymore. 

... Now onto the love part:

My Aunt Laureen was in town this weekend for a funeral.. and I havent seen her since I was 16.  She was one of my moms best friends back in the day and I used to spend a lot of time with her and she is definitely someone who helped mold me.  She was always so much fun to be around and she used to teach me the most random things. ... Like sign language, or how to drive with my knees (I don't do this) or apply mascara while driving (okay, guilty) ... and she was always there until she moved out to Arizona back in like... 95.

My mom and her didn't always keep in touch, but a few years ago I found her on facebook and her and I have stayed in touch.  So when she had posted about her aunt's funeral and that she was going to be in NY for the weekend... I texted her and demanded to see her just so I can give her a big hug because I've missed her so much.

So she had a small availability yesterday morning, so after babysitting I drove out to see her.  It was so nice to see her and talk and catch up and we were able to pick up like we saw each other last week as opposed to like, 7 years ago.  (holy crap I can't believe my sweet 16 was 7 years ago... wow).  I love her so much <3

But... it got me thinking about my friendships with my best friends.  Like.. my core group of girls.  My ride or die.  My insides... my family...  Joanna, Nicole, Joanne, Liz, Ashley, Life Condom, Lauren Rae and Megan.   Like... those girls are my go to girls.  Like... all the time.  Those are my bitches <3 

And I don't want to lose contact with those girls.  Or any of my friends really.. but particularly those girls. I dont want it to be every few years that I see my friends kids. I don't want it to be that we only see each other on weddings or bridal showers or baby showers.   Thats not going to be okay for me.  My friends have always been my family and those girls are my insides.  like.... I couldn't imagine life without them. 

So my point is... no matter where we end up. Or however many states are between us or babies or whatever... I'm never going to stop annoying you bitches cause I loves ya too damn much <3

and it´s good
good to be back home
how I missed this time zone
oh...strangers they´re exciting
their mystery never ends
but there's nothing like looking at your own history
in the faces of your friends

Just sayin <3

Back to Basics and back to school.... and a confession

Back to basics (or btb) has come up a lot lately in some of the other WLS blogs I read such as Sam's and Christina's blogs.  Also, there is a lot of talk of going back to basics in the WLS group on fb that I belong to.

As I mentioned a few weeks back that I too was going back to basics.  I bought my marble notebooks and started journaling.

I was doing very well for the first couple of weeks.  Then the week my friend's father passed, the tracking of my food fell wayside.  That carried on into this week as well.  So today is the day the journaling and eating my five small meals a day will go back into action.

TODAY!  Because it has to be today.  Because if its not today, it won't ever happen.  and it needs to happen.  I was doing so great with the tracking.  So a week and half is missing, but I already started doing it again today.  I wrote down what I had for breakfast and that I took my vitamins :)

And the reason why I'm going back: Because without tracking, I know i'm not getting in all my water. I'm not getting in all my protein.  I'm not losing.  I'm not.  I've been at 233 for like a week and a half now.  I just want to break out of the 230s so badly.  I'm not freaking out about this however.  I know its going to come off.  I'm just saying I'd like to be out of the 230's.   That's all.

In other news, I'm planning on going back to school hopefully for the winter session, but definitely for january.  Originally I was going to go for nursing so I can work with doctors without borders and travel the world.

I've recently changed my mind.

My gastric bypass obviously had a huge impact on my life.  And so did everyone involved.  So it got me thinking that I'd really like to be involved with bariatric patients in some way.

So I'm going to go back to school for nutrition and psychology.  I'm going to focus on nutrition first, that way I can work as a nutritionist first (hopefully specializing in bariatric patients) and then continue my education with my psychology, so I can become a psychologist who specializes with patients who suffer from eating disorders.

I have mentioned this before, but I've had my battles with eating disorders. Binge eating disorder and bulimia, more so than anything else, but I've also had bouts of starvation.  I still struggle with the "urge to purge" ... but I've kept things down for months now.  I will admit this though... during my pre-op diet there were nights when I did binge and purge. I'm not proud of it and I actually didn't think I would ever admit to it, especially so publicly.

I don't want anyone to worry.  I have not purged since before my surgery. The last time I did it was back in April.  And before that... it had been YEARS.  Like 6 years. But I do battle with it everyday.  That feeling of that type of control is something I work on everyday and thats also part of the reason why I want to specialize in it.  I want to be able to help people... who have walked along the same path as I have and I want to be able to show them that its not that bad, and that things will get better and that they can overcome all of their problems.


Its hard for me to admit this.  I was able to keep this secret pretty quiet for years.  I've randomly mentioned it but I've never gone into full detail with people about it, and I hadn't told anyone about my pre-op binging and purging. I don't think I'll ever tell anyone my full story again... but here's the cliffs note version:

I had started throwing up when I was about 10. I had seen it on a lifetime movie and even though they focused on the dangers of it, and the girl in the movie actually died... I still did it.  Then there was the movie For the Love of Nancy which made me think starvation would have been better.  I had been switching between binging and purging and starvation for about a year and a half. In that year and a half I had lost about 50 lbs and I had been able to maintain it.  Then I started just binge eating.  I would sneak out of my room in the middle of the night and  my weight shot right back up.  So then one night I started with the purging again.  I'm not going to go into full details.. but my adolescence was spent over a toilet or looking up pro-ana or pro-mia sites for tips and tricks and 'thinspiration'.  It was rough, and I did eventually get help on my own through the local eating disorders anonymous chapter.  By that time I had been battling all of my eating disorders for about 6 years.  I kept cycling all of them until I decided to get healthy.  The most difficult aspect of everything during recovery is that my body had been so accustomed to regurgitating once it had food... that I had to learn how to control myself and NOT throw up.  I stopped starving myself and I stopped the purging... But I did continue with the binge eating.  And thats what led me to the path I had been on before having my gastric bypass.  And thats what led me to want to help others like me.... because it doesnt have to be SO bad.

An eating disorder is a serious condition.  If you or someone you know is suffering from an eating disorder, please visit National Eating Disorders Association's website and get help.


Please don't leave any comments if they're going to pass some sort of bad judgement on me.  I really don't want to hear it. 

Pringles did not make me happy...

So this has been a pretty rough week.  All the drama with Hurricane Irene (which was dropped to a tropical storm when it hit us) and my best friend lost her father this week. It was a rough week.

Being stuck inside for the weekend with no power and no ability to cook.... kinda sucked.  Luckily our refrigerator stayed cold so I was able to have my cold cut roll ups and tuna fish and that kind of stuff.  And beef jerky... but of course, its when you CANT do something... is when you WANT to do something.  So all I wanted to do was cook the chicken that I've had in my freezer for a week.  Which, btw... I've had power back since monday and I have YET to cook that chicken which now I think I need to toss because it defrosted during the outage.

Then when life happened, and we lost Mr. G, it really was awful. I was hurting for him, I was hurting for my best friend, I was hurting for the family which I had been a part of for the past 6 years. Then life got in the way with my eating.

Pre-op I used to eat all my feelings.  When a friend of mine died senior year, I ate.  Thats how I grieved. I'm Italian.  Thats what we do.  We cook and we eat.  If we're not feeding people, we're not happy. Particularly if things are already kinda shitty.  We think food will make the world better. This time around... it was different.

This time... I was sick all week.  I was nauseated all week.  Every time I cried, I'd end up sucking in so much air that the crying would be interrupted by belches.  I had to force myself even more so to eat just to get my protein in, and some days I didn't get all of it in.  And some days... I didn't eat the right things.  This week I had pringles.

I know that doesnt sound so bad, and in reality it wasn't like how I used to eat the whole giant can of pringles.  We have those little single serving lunch box packs.  I had 3 packs total, over the course of 4 days.  Still not great, but still not the whole can.  I also figured it would satisfy my salt craving (TMI ALERT: because of course, in the midst of all of this, after 8 months of nothing, my period decides to make a visit, which has just pretty much been all pain and no product) and I know I could have had worse things.  But I'm still not proud that I did this.

But it did help me realize something.  I don't have that emotional satisfaction anymore from eating.  The Pringles did NOT make me feel better.  They did NOT satisfy my uterus' demands for salty goodness. It did take 3 packs for me to realize that I WASN"T getting that same satisfaction... but I still realized it.

I no longer have that friend in food.  Food is no longer a replacement for things.  Food is just something I need to have in my life to live.  Pringles won't bring my best friend her father back.

In the past I would have eaten everything under the sun this past week.  I would have probably eaten about 4 pounds of pasta, topped with 9 pounds of cheese.  I would have probably had 8 slices of pizza throughout the week.  A few Butterfingers, probably a pack of double stuffed oreos and a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  Plus tons of other carbs.

Its incredible how different things really are post op.  This was a true test of my old habits... and I didn't pass with flying colors... but I definitely know now for next time... pringles won't make me happy.


And now... just to make light of the situation and add in my usual humor since I know this entry isnt as profane and lude as usual...

at the funeral, I had the body of christ. ya know the Eucharist. (or as Dane Cook would call them, 'Crouton o'Christ' or the "Jeezit") ... yeah. that one body of christ killed me.  I wanted to curl up in the confessional and cry even harder.  So much pain. 

But I still ate it out of that good ol' Roman Catholic guilt ;)