Tag Archives: Weight loss

Further WLS Changes

I got caught in a conundrum on Saturday when I was trying to get dressed and couldn’t find anything that fit the way I wanted it to.  The shirts were too short or too snug; my pants were too baggy.  My mood tanked quickly after trying to find something to wear in all that stuff.

My problem?  I have gone from a 5XL shirt and a very snug 26/28 pant down to a (I kid you not because we picked the shirt up yesterday) a 14/16 top and a 18R pant.  Ray has down the same and since I’ve been gone for 4 months, Ray bought clothes that fit and we got rid of most of our baggy stuff the night I got back from California, like a dumb@$$.

See, Ray, my lovely wife, doesn’t wear clothes the same way I do.  I have always been fat so baggy, long, and loose have been my go to things.  She has not, so form fitting things work.  I didn’t try things on before I packed up most of the really baggy things in a bag for Goodwill.  Saturday, I couldn’t find any of my long, loose shirts and the ones I kept back… In the laundry bin and I didn’t have time to wash clothes.

I was perturbed before my Amazon Flex shift because I couldn’t find anything that made me comfortable.

So here’s the reason for me talking about this:  Body dysmorphia is a real thing for me.  It gets worse with anxiety.  “[People with body dysmorphia] can’t control their negative thoughts and don’t believe people who tell them that they look fine. Their thoughts may cause severe emotional distress and interfere with their daily functioning. They may miss work or school, avoid social situations and isolate themselves, even from family and friends, because they fear others will notice their flaws.” – Anxiety and Depression Association of America

I feel awkward and I still “dress fat” because that is how I have always dressed.  Walking into a Forever 21 still scares the crap out of me because I have never in my life been able to wear those clothes.  I can, but do I really want to?  Not really, but we can’t shop at Torrid or Lane Bryant much longer either.

So what do you do?  Try to change the way you think about yourself (which is really freaking hard after three decades of habitual training).  Find positive social situations that reinforce positive thoughts (another really hard thing to do based off of past experiences).  Or… stay inside, find a job that makes working almost nonexistent, and become a hermit.  If I could, I’m pretty sure it would be option three.

Listening to:  The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson

Reading:  Night Shift by Charlene Harris and The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson

Quote of the Day: “Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.” ― Dalai Lama


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Traveling Solo

So I did end up going up to Portland this weekend.  One thing I hadn’t considered was that this weekend started Spring Break.  Everywhere I went, there were college age young people, and lines to get into some of the more popular spot.

One thing I hadn’t counted on that was very new to me is that my social anxiety has gotten much worst.  I knew I was socially awkward but being surround by people in that sort of environment made me happy to get back to where I’m on detail too.

From that statement along, there are a couple things I want to say:

  1. Social anxiety: Freaking sucks.  So here I am in a city I love and have wanted to move to for a very long time and I feel like I’m drowning, floundering even, because of the sheer volume of people.  I’m already socially awkward as it is, especially lately (several months of people looking at you like what you say and do isn’t valuable doesn’t help).  I’m in a bookstore where I’m saying excuse me every few seconds because I’m looking for a book they don’t have and I’m terrified someone is going to not hear me, then get pissed off when I walk in front of them.  I didn’t used to be this way, or maybe at least I didn’t notice it as much.
  2. Touristy things: Are not for the faint of heart.  Sure, there are great things that everyone has discovered and is doing.  Don’t do them unless you don’t have any other options.  There is almost always another location that is just as cool as the one where people are standing in line.  Or has better food, like Georgetown Cupcakes vs Curbside (R.I.P).
  3. Weightloss surgery: This is where I’m drawing in a big breathe and remembering to breathe out slowly.  I’m not the same person I was when I went to Portland years ago.  I can’t eat how I used to, I certainly can’t drink like I used to, and the walking around was a lot easier now vs then.  So what’s the problem with this picture?  The problem is my mentality.  I still see myself as this big person who is taking up more space than she should, but when I was that big, I never thought I was that big.  I knew I could lose some weight, and I still could, but it wasn’t that big of a deal to me back then.  Now, and this a complaint, I have to think about food differently.  I have to think about my alcoholic nature differently.  I even have to sit at the bar differently than I used people.  I could start a conversation with people and not feel like I was being judged.  I don’t now because I’ve had several months of people’s eyes glazing over that’s trained me to not bother.  And that makes me feel like I’m not good enough anymore except to the people who I know love me, even though sometimes even then I wonder.  This is where the social anxiety aspect kicks in too, although there are a few other underlying things that I’m not going to voice until I have a long, hard conversation with a therapist when I get back.
  4. Travel with a partner!: I would probably have had more fun walking around, doing the scavenger hunt, enough the warm day, had I been with someone.  Not just any someone, but someone I wanted to share the city with, who knows that I’m crazy, and would have shared the food with me along with the experience.  Traveling by myself is great, but there is nothing like seeing the city with someone who actually wants to be there with you.

So my trip to Downtown Portland…

Lackluster?  Yes.  I still love the city.

Worth it?  Meh.  Eugene was slightly better and I only stopped there for food.

Short?  Most definitively!  I spent more time driving to and from than I actually did in the city itself, mostly because I couldn’t enjoy it the way I had before, which really freaking sucked.

Got sixteen new books out of that trip though.

Happy Monday.

Listening to:  White noise.

Reading:  The Cottingley Secret by Hazel Gaynor

Quote of the Day:  “Every adversity, every failure, every heartache carries with it the seed of an equal or greater benefit.” ― Napoleon Hill

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Filed under Books/Classes, Driving, Vacations/Travel, Weightloss

Serious Conversation

I’m coming up on my one year anniversary of weight loss surgery on the 12th.  I’ll do a blog post about the stats with that on the 11th.

Today’s post is about a side effect, or a cause, or a redirection maybe, of addiction.  It’s about alcohol.

Last night, I got slurred stupid off of two cups of wine.  I’m not going to lie—they were not small cups either.  The apples didn’t help much, except as maybe a food source.  I don’t have an excuse or a reason for drinking last night other than it felt good and I wanted it.

Before surgery, I might have gone through a six pack of beer in a few days.  It tasted good and I enjoyed the relaxed feeling that came from it and stayed with me.  I wasn’t chasing demons or anything like that, not like what I was doing when I was in my earlier 20’s.  There were days I still wanted to get smashed to the point of being sick, but that wasn’t for any of the reasons that I’ve heard people say before.  I also wasn’t one who thought drinking before noon was cool, although I spent much of my 23rd and 24th years of life showing up for work hungover.  Fun, right?  Not really, but it happened.  Moving on.

After surgery…  I’m not even sure where to start.  One drink can either hit you like a ton of bricks within minutes or several hours later, but you feel it in different way than before.

Food and eating it can be an addiction.  Please don’t tell me it can’t be; a recovering foodie here, so I know.  It’s one of the few used substances that is completely accessible in so many different forms and companies make billions of dollars to create food that makes us want to eat it—constantly.  All because without food, we don’t survive very long.

For me, food was a comfort.  I didn’t know how to work through feelings growing up.  I didn’t care a lot of the times, and we moved around so much as kids that keeping friends wasn’t the easiest thing to do.  Every year, new school, new people to meet, etc., until 6th grade, and then I was the weird kid.  Not really going to get into that too much; I’ll save that for therapy.  But, hey, excuses right?

I’ve always been fat and have always turned to not-so-great food choices.  When I left home a month before my 18th birthday, I started drinking.  It didn’t replace food, but it become something that went with food and made me feel good.  Sometimes, it was the only thing that helped me get from day to day, just numb enough that I could over look problems but not so numb I couldn’t function.

After surgery, I took a shot for New Year’s Eve.  I was fine.  I made it most of the way through January without drinking; had a sip at dinner and almost didn’t eat anything because I was full.  Tiny stomach equals not much room for things.  Went another month and some change and had a beer with a friend.  Started drinking beers once every few weeks and gradually increased the intake, until Thanksgiving this past week, with a beer before noon and then three glasses of wine in about three hours.  I was floating and happy and I was pushing my limits.  I’d been pushing my limits all year long actually.

Why so much (Because…reasons)?

Didn’t I eat (Yes, and Ray had to take my plate from me because I’m used to eating a lot at Thanksgiving; some habits never stop being habits)?

Am I depressed (With work, yes; life in general, no.  I just completed a first draft of my next book; who would be upset with that)?

Demons finally catching up to me (Maybe)?

News flash:  Alcohol, like food, is addictive.  When you have surgery, what they tell you is that you should avoid alcohol, at least for the first year.  Well, there’s a good reason for that:  You just had surgery to help curb one addiction, they didn’t want you needing to cope with another!

It’s damn hard getting past one addiction when all I really want right now is to take a bite out of a Red Robin cheeseburger without being full off that one bite, or to have a slice of cheesecake without getting the sugar shakes and needing to fall asleep as soon as possible because my body can’t deal with the sugar content.  That last happened with a slice of apple pie last week; wasn’t expecting it, but boy was I happy I was at home.

This surgery thing is not easy, and there are plenty of ways to still screw up.  But I wouldn’t make a different decision because losing what I have has let me do so much more with my life and with my wife.

So, I just admitted I have a problem.  Now what?

Listening to:  My writing mix

Reading:  Blood Bound by Patricia Briggs and Before the Devil Breaks You by Libba Bray

Quote of the Day:  Hold yourself responsible for a higher standard than anybody expects of you. Never excuse yourself.” ― Henry Ward Beecher 

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Filed under Advice Column, Weightloss


That’s where I am today.  I have a few reasons for why I’m here but there’s only one colossal reason that being unfeeling is hitting home for me, and Ray too, right now.

One of the things never really talked about before weight loss surgery, or after, is how hard emotions can be when the one thing you ran to when you were feeling hurt, or happy, or sad, or anything that is above or below “numb” is taken away.  Food has to be replaced by something because then we have to face the monsters that are the reason we ran to food in the first place.

Right now, my vice is music.  Music and whatever kind of candy I can find to put in my mouth to help with sugar cravings.  My office keeps a dish of Jolly Ranchers, Fireballs, and mints.  Willpower pushes me past them sometimes; others I just give in.  I tell myself it helps me write, which is true, in a way.  But sugar is addictive, and I had surgery to get over one addiction only to dive harder into another one.

Stepping back to the emotional reason for this post:  My passion for some things is fading.  I feel like I’m in a permanent state of numb.  Sure, in the moment of awesome things, I’m good.  But that feeling never really stays unless it’s a negative feeling.  I find myself holding on to the anger and the need to scream.  I find myself not doing things I used to love and avoiding people and situations I used to enjoy.  Part of that is getting married and not having to work on finding a mate because you found the person who makes you happy and that you want to spend your life with.  The other part is that I can’t drink like I used to, I’m almost always working on something, and being in situations where you have to watch just about everything you eat can be embarrassing depending on the people you are hanging out with.

The upside to this is that I do want to do more.  My numbness and anxiety has me wanting to do everything and nothing at all.  If I do something, the pleasure and the passion is there, and then it’s not.  There is plenty to look forward to, but the instant gratification that food used to bring is gone.  Exercising and moving until I’m sore helps me remember that, and I’m happy that I can move better.  The downside to moving a lot more and doing more physically is that I don’t do much at home, which means that unless Ray is cleaning the house, it doesn’t get cleaned.  It’s not fair to her at all.  So what’s a person to do?

That’s where I’m at today.

Sorry for the melodrama.

Listening to:  The Laughing Corpse by Laurell K. Hamilton

Reading:  Wolfsbane by Patricia Briggs

Quote of the Day:  “Life has many ways of testing a person’s will, either by having nothing happen at all or by having everything happen all at once.” ― Paulo Coelho

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