ThinnerTimes - Gastric Bypass and Lap Band® Forum - View Single Post

aesidwell · 01-27-2008, 09:17 AM

I've started, stopped, and thought about this post for a long time. I don't even know where to begin, since it's been more than six months since my last post, and I think I was afraid to write anything, because I've been trying so hard to be O.K. on my own, but I've realized how much I've missed this board and how much I really do need the support of people who have gone through the same thing as I have.

First, let me say that I have really missed you all and don't know why I kept from posting, except to say that anxiety and life completely consumed me. Second of all, it's been a gigantic rollercoaster of emotions and events over the past six months and I'm completely overwhelmed. I hardly know where to begin.

When I last posted, I had just changed jobs, and continue to be there (I work as a TV lit assistant at an agency), and settling into that job was one of the most anxiety inducing, draining experiences I have ever gone through. The hours, the expectations, the speed at which I was expected to be "on my game," it's no surprise that it was a really difficult adjustment, and my desire to be perfect really weighed on my mind and actions as I learned my job. The onset of the strike (and the continuation of it) has made for some strange days and weeks. So far, my job is not in danger of being cut, but I'd be an idiot if I didn't say I worry about it. A lot. However, that said, it has been the best job change I have ever made. I like the company I work for, I have fantastic friends from work that are wonderfully supportive, and I'm thriving at work. My boss likes me, the agents know who I am, and tomorrow I'll be interviewing for a slot in the company's agent trainee program.

Personally, though, life has not been quite as smooth, to say the least. It took a long time to figure it out, as I thought a lot of my depression was related to the exhaustion and anxiety from my job. However, it was my home life that was really getting to me. As some of you may or may not remember, I lived with my boyfriend, Alex, and right around the time I made the job switch, we celebrated a fourth year together. However, it was more disappointing than happy. The anniversary of our first date was 7/7, and we had said for years that we would get married on 7/7/07 - but the closer the date got, the more adamant was he that it wasn't the right time, and why bother getting married when we were so happy as we were? I went along with it; I thought I was happy, too.

As the months went on, and I settled into my job, began making friends and having more of a social life than I have ever had, life at home started to wane. Alex was promoted, neither of us got home until late at night, and when we were together, although we always enjoyed each other, all we did was drink and watch movies. But, with the money he was earning, and the fact that we could basically do what we wanted financially, and that we weren't fighting, I just convinced myself that this was life; this is what it meant to be comfortable and happy with someone.

But I was still coming home every night feeling frustrated, angry, and resentful. I hated that feeling! My weight had started to stabilize, hovering between 170 - 175 (not that I'm happy with that, but that's later), job was good, friends were good, home life was...good? So why was I angry? It took me a long time to realize it, but it was because nothing was changing with Alex. I felt like a convenience in HIS life; this wasn't OUR life.

I met someone through work, and after a night of drinking, ended up making out with the guy in back of his car like a freaking 16 year old. I was shocked - I have NEVER cheated on Alex, and I couldn't believe what I had done. But it felt so good to feel as though someone found me attractive, thought I was sexy, and just plain liked me - since I hadn't felt that way with Alex for a long time.

It was a week before Thanksgiving. I was sick, I had laryngitis, I had my mom breathing down my neck about not going to the holiday dinner (since Alex hates holidays), and I just snapped. I couldn't live like that, anymore; who cares if it was financially comfortable? Who cares about the stuff we acquired together? I talked to him. I told him my position, but I was completely unequivocal about it: either you step up and start meeting me halfway, or I'm leaving. His response? "It looks like you have a big decision to make."

So I left.

I spent that night on the couch we bought together, barely sleeping, looking around at the life we created. But the next morning, I got up, I went to work, I found an apartment (truly lucked into an apartment, actually), and over the weekend moved everything out. We've only spoken to the extent of exchanging perfunctory emails about disentangling our expenses, the car we bought together, etc. I moved out with only with the items that already belonged to me or he had given me as gifts. I left everything else.

And now I live in an apartment in Koreatown, near downtown LA. It's been a few months now, and there are good days and bad days. More bad days, if I'm honest. The drinking felt out of control, the eating, all of it felt out of control, no matter how badly I was trying to keep it together - to see this as an adventure, as a good decision. It was only after a night when I was out bar hopping with friends and literally got falling down drunk (and the next day could not remember parts of the evening), that I realized that I desperately needed to get back to myself, and really work on getting healthy again, not comatose.

So here I am again, just asking for help and support. I weighed myself this morning - 177 - SIGH. I'm still determined to get down to my original goal weight of 150 (although would be happy to be 150-155), and I'm starting to look into plastics. I rid my apartment of all the alcohol, random leftover Christmas sweets, and plain just crap food. I'm ready to start over, but I need help. I've never really lived on my own in my life. This is the first time I've ever been completely responsible only for myself. On the good days, it's exciting and daunting, but I'm up for the challenge. My biggest problem is the bad days. I HATE that I've worked SO HARD for this surgery, to lose this weight, and my first instinct is STILL to turn to food or alcohol to get rid of this pain and anxiety.

I could keep writing; lord knows it's been cathartic, and once I got started, it's been easier to write than I thought, but wow, this is a monster of a post.

Thanks everyone, for reading, for listening. I'm back, and really ready to make this final push to get my life on track. Finally.