Sometimes I get worried I am going to do a backward slide. Yes, you know the one. That inevitable thing that always happens after a diet. You know. After you've lost quite a few pounds (the same ones you have lost again and again you're whole life) and they start to creep back on. They make their way back onto your body like the tiny little parasites pounds seem to be. A backslide back into your baggy sweaters and big jeans.
I tell myself the situation is different now. And its not a lie, it is different. I mean, I let someone I had met once rearrange my insides. I say it won't happen this time but then some other little voice in my head says, well it won't happen yet, at least not this soon. Its that "well" and that "yet" that are the real problem. I know because every time I have been here I have always gained it back, with friends. And I am scared that it is going to happen again.
Yesterday my husband and I went to a friends house. The two of them are amongst the collection of few that know about my weight loss surgery. One of them said they were really starting to tell I had lost weight, they could see it in my face. Later on while the friends were putting their kids to bed my husband and I were sat in the conservatory. He mentioned buying some new clothes and I just kind of rebuffed him but in a kind way. I said something like, lets see how it goes first. Because there's that little voice in my head that says, no point in buying new clothes, you'll just be back in your size 28 trousers in no time.
I've tried to take a very relaxed approach to this whole experience. Probably more so then a lot of people. I was never really scared or that nervous before surgery, not until I was actually on the table and I was looking up at the operating lights. But then I guess that's pretty natural because wow. I don't weigh myself very much. About once a month or so. Sometimes I sneak in a cheeky weigh just to make sure it is still coming off. It is. Of course it is.
Before the doctors suggested weight loss surgery I was pretty jaded. No, not pretty, I was really jaded. My skin was green. It was a case of been there, done that, got the T-shirt too. I have slammed myself full force into diet after diet. Crazy exercise routine after exercise routine. I was simply exhausted with it all and had given up. I just wanted to be normal. I wanted to eat normal. But my life has always been if I even look at the wrong foods then I gain weight. My weight crept up to 280 pounds which is an all time high for me.
I'm quite lucky that my husband is super understanding and has always supported me in every endeavour. I had some friends(?) suggesting Keto and Paleo which are two diets I admittedly never tried. I read about them. But I just couldn't sign myself up to that diet whirlwind again. The thought of facing it all made me feel physically ill. That excitement of the weight coming off, of the compliments you get, and then the side eyes you receive once it starts to creep back on. Because me and my jadedness never felt I could ever succeed at losing weight. I resigned myself to being a fat girl forever.
And then my neuro-opthamologist suggested weight loss surgery and I was pretty floored to be honest. I was over weight but not big enough for that, right? One of my Uncles had his stomach stabled when I was a kid. I still remember a lot of my mother's negative comments about it and even now she still says he looks gaunt. I was never as big as he was and that was my only measurement for WLS. I never thought it was for me.
Is it going to be a self-fulfilling prophecy? Have I deemed somewhere deep inside that all the weight will go back on so therefore it will? These are the three am thoughts.
I spoke the bariatric psychiatrist about this before surgery. About how I feel like having WLS is like failing. You know, because I couldn't do it on my own even thought all it takes is diet and exercise, right? She was pretty cool and really talked things through with me. She says its okay to have these thoughts and I am likely to have them for awhile as my mind and body adjust to things.
I know any weight will only come back on if I let it. Because this time I am the one in charge here. I have given my metabolism and my body the middle finger and given myself the best tool possible to overcome obesity.
Yet still there is that little cynical me in the back of my brain. The one scales of obsidian and jade that cling to her every limb. Hard eyes and a bitter smile. Really?, she says, you keep telling yourself that.
Shut up, old me.