• entries
    30
  • comments
    78
  • views
    3,133

About this blog

Very little information. Very many thoughts. I'm a PhD candidate, lapsed powerlifter, and gastric sleeve patient. Among other things. 

Entries in this blog

 

Three Years

I had surgery three years ago today: July 28, 2016. I've been about the size and weight I am now for two years—two years ago I was about five pounds heavier, last year I was about five pounds lighter. I'm feeling pretty stable and solid—I had a little weight gain earlier this year, watched (and didn't watch) things creep just above 195 before I realized I needed to and could focus on it and intervene. I've taken most of it back off. I definitely had some fear and anxiety when I realized tha

nimiety

nimiety

 

...and we're back.

Home again. I had a lovely week and a half in three European cities, in which I denied myself very little. I ate a bunch of croissants and other delicious bread-type things. I drank a lot (like a lot) of cocktails (un autre Campari spritz, s'il-vous plait; einmal noch Aperol sour, bitte). I came home with six RitterSports in my carry-on. I managed to consume nearly an entire döner kebab in one sitting. I also prioritized protein the majority of the time and walked a ton—I don't keep track,

nimiety

nimiety

 

Headed off for some travel.

I'm about to take off for ten days in Europe. Two things about that relevant to this space: 1) I'm a little bit grumpy about the fact that I'm disrupting a really good groove. I've been interested in losing a little more weight, and lately that's been working out well for me: I've been in a good, easy, pleasurable routine that's made that feel very achievable. I'm seeing scale weights below the bottom of my usual range—the last few mornings have been below 177. You know what's not like an a

nimiety

nimiety

 

Not Being "Good"

So my return here for the two-year mark has me wanting to think out loud about some stuff, I guess. I do really like this space for thinking through things. I often feel pretty out of step with the general discourse here or elsewhere in WLS support internet space. I have a sense of myself as a "bad" patient, I think, someone who gets away with things, who breaks or bends or disregards the rules, who doesn't work hard enough. The constant vigilance! The culinary monotony! The things that are

nimiety

nimiety

 

Two Years

It's been two years. I had surgery two years ago—well, two years and a week or so. Things have settled in. My goal with surgery was always the same: stop dieting, stop white-knuckling, find stability that works.  I've succeeded at doing that. I never hit my tentative goal, but I also (as readers who were reading back when may recall) didn't really have a goal weight—I never set out to reach a goal of thinness, or of a particular number. I did what I had wanted to do: found a place

nimiety

nimiety

 

Making Choices

I didn't lose weight in August. I did a lot of other things, some of them productive and some of them pleasurable—and the month was a bit of a whirlwind—and I didn't lose weight. Right now, I'm sitting pretty much the exact amount of water I'm carrying because I'm carbed up (i.e. I've been eating enough carbs to keep my glycogen stores filled & thus retaining enough water to keep that glycogen soluble, which for me is about 5-6 pounds and a look of puffiness—higher scale weight, but sta

nimiety

nimiety

 

One Year.

I had high hopes of posting on the day, but I was running off to Philadelphia and then the woods to camp for my sister's 30th, and had some personal distractions besides. More on that later. I had surgery on July 28th, 2016. I weighed 332 pounds. Today is August 8th, 2017, and when I belatedly replaced the batteries in my scale, I weighed 180.4 pounds.  It's hard to know what to say about that.  I've lost 151.6 pounds. I'm under my original tentative goal weight and basically at m

nimiety

nimiety

 

It's alive.

Where "it" is both this bloglet and its author. Things are a little bit bananas over here. It is hard to figure out where to start. My relationship is over. We met seven years ago tomorrow, on the Brooklyn rooftop where last night I drank wine and ate scallops and corn and heirloom tomatoes with my friends, and now it is over. It feels like my life is crumbling around my ears. I feel at sea in so many ways. I do not love my ex-boyfriend less than I did. I will miss him terribly, and we

nimiety

nimiety

 

Countdown

So, I've looked up and found myself in the countdown-to-200 portion of things. I weighed 203 this morning.  A ton of stuff is happening in my life right now, much of it stuff I'm not ready to talk about here yet, but even through all that stuff, which has me spread a little thin and a lot distracted, that number's got me focusing on it. It sticks in the head. It's sort of some childhood dividing line, maybe. It's a myth. It's an outdated idea. I blew through it circa age 14 and then I learn

nimiety

nimiety

 

Just a List of Things I'm Noticing

I'm seeing strange new things when I look at my face in the mirror—fatness is no longer the first thing I see. My jaw is newly prominent, my neck asserting itself. I have high cheekbones; they catch the light. People's attention registers me in a new way. It lingers longer; it checks in.  I'm wearing a size 14 dress from ASOS Curve and it's gotten too big for me. It drapes over my hips, pools at my feet, makes me look a little boxy. Simultaneously, there are two pairs of size 14 jeans

nimiety

nimiety

 

Taking a Spill

[This post was written several days ago. There's an update at the end. I'm still posting it as-is because I want to save the thinking-through.]   My life is really busy right now and that has stalled my weight loss. It's not "a stall." It's me prioritizing other things and not leaving enough room in my day or my brain to plan and take care of eating, water, logging, counting, etc.  I know that this happens to a lot of people after WLS, and now I know that it is happening, has happ

nimiety

nimiety

 

Goals and Other Mythical Beasts

I've had so many goals, even just this time around alone. I've made so many lists, over and over again. Even just this time around alone. (Yes, I know that saying "this time around" implies that it's just another ride on the weight-cycle merry-go-round. I don't exactly think that, but I don't exactly not think that, nahmean?) And I've had so many goals. I don't think I've ever known what was really reasonable to expect. I could intellectually process, sure, but I don't think I could really imagi

nimiety

nimiety

 

Restriction; Lenses

When I started this entry, I was staring resentfully at about three-quarters of a cup of pork larb (a Vietnamese meat salad I've adapted for my nutritional needs and abilities in Vietnamese cuisine, which are fairly minimal). Here's what I wrote about it: It's good—I know it is; I've eaten several portions of it in the last couple of days. It's savory, and salty, and fresh, and bright—there's red cabbage in there for crunch, red onion for bite, fresh parsley and cilantro from the pot on the wind

nimiety

nimiety

 

Oh Hey Unexpected Freakout

This stair-step loss thing, man, it can do a number on your head. My pattern has stabilized pretty solidly—a few days of little losses, a few days to a week and a half of no movement (the length of this phase may have some relationship to my menstrual cycle but I haven't nailed it down yet), long enough to get irritated and frustrated but also comfortable enough that when the quick losses come for two or three days, I feel disoriented.  But it's not just that. It's this range I'm in right n

nimiety

nimiety

 

Run-Ins

I ran into my serious ex-boyfriend by chance in the subway today. He almost did a double take—and he last saw me only six weeks ago. It would take a stronger woman than I not to enjoy that. I enjoyed it. I mean, I haven't the faintest idea what it makes him think. But nevertheless. I enjoyed it.  I have started to notice that people look at me more often. I'm not invisible anymore. I look up and people are looking at me, and I don't know how to interpret their looking. I locked eyes with a

nimiety

nimiety

 

Stop Clicking Like on My Face

I got a haircut yesterday. God, did it make me feel better. I lost a fair amount of hair after surgery—the stylist pointed out where it's started to grow back in, but in the meantime, my ends were dry and frayed, the top was flat, the thinness was making me crazy...it was not a good scene. The second I walked into a sleek SoHo curl salon, I felt better—all those fluffy, bouncy, shiny curls! (It was also nice not to feel so out of place there—not to struggle with a robe or cringe through the cut

nimiety

nimiety

 

It's Been a Day.

Oh, man, is my closet a bad scene right now. I got a few things on clearance at Asos and they came in the mail yesterday. Their sizes generally run fairly big, but it was hard to estimate, and I think one thing is going to have to go back. There's another I'd ideally have preferred a 16 in, but it wasn't available and I liked the skirt enough to try the 18, and that works fine. It's not form-fitting or anything, and it's a tiny touch too long, but it also doesn't emphasize the saggy-lower-belly

nimiety

nimiety

 

Scattershot (Six Months, 100#, etc.)

I crossed the six-month mark nearly two weeks ago, down 92 pounds—I've lost four more since then. I'm staring down the barrel of 100 lost. I know I'm smaller than I've ever been as an adult. My measurement jeans (Gap, size 20, 100% cotton) muffin-top me a little still but they button no problem. In fact, I've added a new pair of measurement pants—Gap, size 16, 1% stretch. Holding them up, they look impossibly tiny, and they're a solid ways from buttoning at all, but even the fact that I can pull

nimiety

nimiety

 

Making the Weekend Work

This weekend it became clear to me that I've hit a point that a lot of people seem to hit in their post-WLS experiences: I'm more confident, more outgoing, more up for adventures and parties and socializing of all kinds. That feels awesome, and I love it, and also it means that I'm more often eating chaotically, drinking a bunch, skipping water, and not logging my food. Which is...not great. This weekend I was on the go from Friday afternoon to Sunday evening—networking with colleagues, catching

nimiety

nimiety

 

New Year, New Numbers.

The last time I was under 250 I was 22 years old and I'd just had emergency surgery—a cholecystectomy. I didn't eat anything except some saltines and apple juice that came right back up for the better part of a week before I finally went to the emergency room. I was in unbelievable pain. And then when I came out, my eating-disorders nutritionist told me to expect to gain weight back—there'd been muscle wasting, and dehydration, and it was an all-around bad scene. I'd just had a pair of knee boot

nimiety

nimiety

 

Seeing It

I think I'm starting to see it. Four and a half months out, closing in on 80 pounds down, and I think I'm starting to see it. I've been able to feel it for a long time—I was at a weight that was legitimately really physically uncomfortable for me, and 77 pounds lower, I've got my zip back, which is a great relief. But I haven't seen it yet. Not really. Part of that, probably, is that in all the weight-cycling I've done, right about here, or perhaps just a touch higher—260-275—is what I think of

nimiety

nimiety

 

Facing the Bottom of the Ellipse

I'm getting the hang of the "stair-step" pattern to weight loss. My weight levels out for anywhere from four days to a bit more than a week—tiny losses, then bouncing up and down within the range of a pound. Then there come several days of daily losses in the area of a pound a day. The drop seems to be triggered a bit by high-fluid and/or slightly-higher-than-normal calorie days, but I suppose it's chiefly just waiting it out. Today it was 267.8, the second day of a pound-a-day loss, which

nimiety

nimiety

 

On Clothes and Covering My Ever-Changing @*#

The other day, I got down my box of too-small clothing for the first time since surgery. I went through the things I thought might fit that would be appropriate for fall and winter, and put away a few things from my closet that either don't fit me anymore or likely won't by the time their season rolls around again (and also a couple of things I'm just not feeling like wearing these days). Because I'm a lifelong weight-cycler, I have clothing that covers nearly a 100-pound range, from something l

nimiety

nimiety

 

Three Months

Yesterday was three months out. I weighed 274.6, which is 57.4 pounds down. In three months. More to the point, I've noticed just recently that I've hit a little categorical shift. As a lifelong weight-cycler, I've had a chance to observe the way I feel, look, and am responded to at quite a lot of different sizes. Just recently I crossed some categorical boundary. I'm less invisible at this size than fifty pounds bigger—or even ten or fifteen pounds bigger. I'm also less hypervisible. 

nimiety

nimiety

 

Dogged

I get impatient. I want it to be later. I want to be smaller. I want to see huge differences in pictures, in the way my clothing fits, in what it feels like to move through the world in my body. I want it to be twenty pounds from now, thirty-five pounds from now, seventy pounds from now. (I long ago got accustomed to marking time in pounds.) I see the small differences now, but I want them to be orders of magnitude greater.  I'm traveling for a couple of weeks starting on Monday; I won't ha

nimiety

nimiety