I originally wrote this for my myspace blog, but I thought I'd repost it here to give everyone an idea of what life leading up to surgery was like for me. A couple things refer back to my blog, so feel free to read if you'd like (big sarcasm warning on that...just beware
http://www.myspace.com/burnedeve)
Enjoy! (Originally written in December 16, 2005)
So I've gone through a lot in my life. Not enough for a Greek tragedy, more than an angsty Goth teenager. Somewhere in that happy medium. Weight has been the supporting character throughout all of this; my...hmm...Mr. Hyde, if you will (wow, that wasn't pretentious at all). So, in dramatic Part II, not quite better than Part I fashion, here's the life history of my weight leading up to the final decision to have surgery:
Born: 8 lbs, 12 oz - healthy sized child, totally normal
up to 4 years: normal weight, slightly taller than usual for my age, so also slightly heavier.
age 4: my first "I'm fat" experience. My aunt had been married the previous May and I thought using my old flower girl dress to be a "fairy princess" would be a great idea. The dress was WAAAAAY tight and my first thought was "I'm fat." I believe there were also tears involved. Is that a little fucked up for a 4 year old to think? You be the judge.
age 5: My mom's first attempt to counteract the fat phenomenon. She thought a good costume for Halloween would be a "ftiness girl." Leotard, tights, legwarmers, jump rope, weights, the whole bit. I still cringe every time my mom shows me that picture. I'm already obviously too heavy to be wearing a leotard. How freaking embarrassing.
age 6: I weigh 75 pounds. This was a curiosity thing, as other little girls were already bragging about their weight (35 pounds, 40 pounds, etc). By the way, hello? fucked up again? Yeesh, how LA is that? 6 year olds already bragging about weight. Anyway, I weighed myself so I could brag too. Well 75 is more than 40 so that's good right? Yeah...not so much. First time I was ever told I was fat was when I blabbed that number to a group of kids.
age 8/9: I top over 100 lbs. 118 pounds to be more exact. I go on my first diet, an eight week course of nutrition at Torrance Memorial Hospital. How much weight do I lose? Zero. My brother loses around 5 pounds, my mom 10. I start thinking there is something seriously wrong with me.
age 9/10: (Fourth grade) Flash forward to 140-149 pounds. My mom starts bugging me about my weight. Kids are making fun of me at school. I walk everywhere, I play AYSO soccer (as I had done since age 6), play on the playground, eat much more healthfully than other kids (no chips, cookies, lots of sugar, or junk). Nothing helps.
age 11: Top the 160s and flash by the 170s. Finding clothes is insanely difficult. Nothing in children's fits (and hasn't since I was 8), nothing in juniors really fits right either. I can't wear jeans, so I'm stuck wear stretch pants and big t-shirts. Lots of teasing (gee, ya think??)
age 12: Ahh, the fat camp. THis was three weeks of nonstop humiliation, but I did lose 9.3 pounds, which put me back to 189. Total breakdown over food 20 minutes after I left the camp, gained the weight back plus god knows how much more soon after.
age 13/14: The WORST "being made fun of" years, as I'm sure they are for most people, so not even worth time or psychosis. I top 200 pounds. I go into my, "fine, I'll be as ugly as possible, so the weight maybe won't be as distracting" phase. Finally give up playing soccer and take up horseback riding instead. Walk a mile from school to home every day.
High School: Weight stays between 240 and 260 for most of high school. No dates, very few friends, I spend most of my time in my room being depressed and generally miserable. A real joy to be around, in other words. I'm in constant fear of being made fun of because of my weight, so I become an asshole writer instead. Spend summers in writing camps, college classes, working, etc and try to forget about weight. Go to one prom, can't even get my "date" to dance with me. (WOW, pathetic).
College, Year 1: A whirlwind of depression, bad sexual experiences and the first time I hit 300 pounds. I come back from the first year suicidal, without a scholarship, shaky about how I'm supposed to pay for my second year, and with a boyfriend I already knew probably wasn't worth it, expecially after he complains about wanting a thin girlfriend (ouch?) So here come the diet pills, doctor prescribed Xenical. For anyone who doesn't know what that is, it's basically a fat inhibiting laxative. Works great, I lose about 40 pounds over the summer. I get really bad pain around my rib cage sometimes, but nothing I pay much attention to.
College, Year 2: I continue to lose weight, although I quit taking the Xenical because I start feeling sick most of the time. It gets so bad that I stop eating out of fear of being in pain. My weight drops down to 240 when I have a pain episode, pass out, and wake up in the emergency room, with doctors telling me I have gallstones, pancreatitis, a liver infection, a lower intestinal blockage, and jaundice. It's a week before finals. I have emergency surgery and spend two weeks in the hospital. I have no grades for the semester, except for one professor who tries to fail me. Flash forward to the next semester: I have a full course load, a part time job, plus make up all of the courses from the fall. I lose all financial aid for that semester, but I manage to get all of my courses in and pull up my GPA to regain my scholarship. I exercise every day and eat healthfully...my weight goes down to 238 and stops. The good news is that I can walk everywhere and feel fine. The bad news is I still weigh 238 no matter what I eat or how much I exercise.
College, Year 3: Start gaining weight again after I change jobs to one where I'm sitting more. I'm feeling more stress. I go into my last semester knowing that I'm graduating a year early, I'm making a film soup to nuts in 5 months, overloading on classes, and my relationship is pretty miserable. My weight climbs to 275 by the time I do my road trip from Boston to L.A.
Post College: I do everything I can to lose weight, go from 275 to 250 after a long, hard slog, to be finally told by my slug of a boyfriend that he's never noticed any of my weight changes; I've always been fat. I finally kick him out. Again go into a plateau period where no matter what I eat or how much I exercise, my weight stays exactly the same for about nine months, when I meet the new guy and I've been taking anti-depressants. My weight hits over 300 by January, 2004. Climbs to 327 by that summer. I go into super "trying hard" mode again, and get down to 301. I start Weight Watchers (again). My weight fluctuates between 304 and 310. I give up on Watchers around June of 2005. I've been seeing a therapist and psychiatrist. More anti-anxiety meds. The weight stays the same until the newest anti-anxiety drug in July. The weight just shoots up. Exercise becomes very difficult. I leave one job, then two, then 60 interviews to find the current job. My weight resides at 348.
Amanda's Story
Linear Mode
