Honoring/mourning the pre-op self

 This might get long and rambling, but I'm having an emotional morning and I wanted to share my thoughts with those of you who might understand.

 

I was checking out some old pictures, and I came across this one and suddenly started crying.

 

I asked myself why I was crying, and the answer surprised me. I miss that girl.

 

It surprised me, because I think of myself as still being the same person I always was. So, it was strange to look at that picture and feel so removed from it. It made me realize that I'm really not the same person.

 

I mean, fundamentally at my core, I am the same. My heart and soul are the same. But many of the other things truly have changed. 

 

That girl is gone from the mirror. I don't know who is looking back at me these days. Her life was largely defined by crippling hunger, by illness, by physical limitations, by frustration. I am not burdened or defined by those things any longer. She would do anything to avoid offending, inconveniencing or confronting someone. I still prefer to avoid those things, but I don't have the same fundamental fear of rejection. I stick up for myself more. She would never dream of sending anything back at a restaurant. I would never dream of paying $30 for a well-done filet mignon when what I ordered was medium-rare. She would do pretty much anything to avoid physical activity. I'm a ball of energy most days. She loved winter and rarely wore a coat. I hate winter and would wear 3 coats at once, if I could. She was extremely ticklish. I'm not. She didn't eat any pork. I am a bacon-a-holic. She was convinced she wouldn't live past 40, and was afraid to hope or plan for anything. I feel like the future is wide open in front of me. I feel hope. 

 

So, I'm really not her anymore. Not fully. 

 

It might sound like I shouldn't miss her. I certainly don't miss being morbidly obese. I don't miss being sick. I don't miss 99% of what her life entailed. I am infinitely thrilled and grateful for where I am now. But I do miss her. I miss her familiar face and familiar clothes. I miss some of the little things about her that are now gone forever. That would sound crazy to most people, and maybe it sounds crazy to you too, but I'm hoping that some of you understand.

 

I'm finding it hard to honor the person I used to be. Mainly because I am so joyful for the changes and don't want to go back. People see my old pictures and make comments like "I can't believe that's you" and "you look old enough to be your own mother". Even my DH came across a pic of me and gasped and said "were you really that big?". And I get it. I feel the same way about those pics. It was hard to live that way. But somehow, it feels like a betrayal of sorts. 

 

I guess this post is an attempt to pay my respects to that girl. She was good person who tried very hard and ultimately did what she had to do. I did not appreciate her at the time, but I do now. She made a difficult choice that saved my life. I hope I can tap into that same strength and courage moving forward. 

 

If you made it this far, thank you. 

Jenna, that was the most beautiful post I've ever read on the DS board. Thank you for putting into words what I've felt and could never have described as brilliantly as you. Now pass the damn Kleenex. xo

Jenna, well said !!  Very beautiful, and to the point ,, at least in my life. especially as I am now officially at a year;;;

i see  in the mirroe, but at times it doesn't seem eight ?? maybe this is it ,, I am missing the other girl !! LOL

Very nice post !!

Debi

I'm with Eileen - what an amazing post, Jenna...brought tears to my eyes, actually.  I'm right there with you.  There are so many mixed emotions going through me this holiday season.  Last year at this time, I was still pre-op.  Looking back, I was miserable on Christmas.  I busted my ass helping my mom all day, both xmas eve and day, and I remember how bad my back hurt - to the point that I wanted to cry.  I remember being so tired, and wanting nothing more than to just sit down and rest; and being bitter that I was the one doing the majority of the work while the rest of my family sat around relaxing on the holiday, because I was too "meek" to speak up and say that enough was enough.  I'm not that person anymore, and this holiday is going to be so different for me.  It's almost like having an "out of body experience," you know?  The me I remember doesn't have chronic back pain anymore; the me I remember doesn't have any qualms about telling people that I've had enough of their bull**** and they need to pitch in; the me I remember has left the building, so to speak.

When you mentioned what your DH said about that photo of you, holy cow, did that ring familiar in my ears.  As a "lightweight," I didn't have a whole lot of family support going into my DS.  Most of my family didn't think that I was "big enough" to have surgery.  But now, they look at my pre-op pics, and they all say the same thing, "Wow, you were really that big?"  On the face of it, part of me could feel really offended by that statement...but I totally know what they mean.  Even though I was living in that body, I still didn't actually see myself as being that big...until now, when I look back at the pictures, so I can't really blame them for not seeing me that way, either.  Yet...I still don't see myself as being "little" after losing all of my weight, either. 

Jenna, I think you are an absolutely amazing person.  You have a wonderful way of putting into words stuff that just floats around in my head.  I have a hard time expressing all of these weird thoughts because I feel like not many people in my real life "get it," so I just don't talk about it.  I ♥ that we can have these "group therapy" sessions here - it helps keep me grounded!  Thank you.

The journey that brings us to the DS is long and painful. And it is not a quick easy fix. Rather a tradeoff, at least for me.
I was looking at some photos from 6 yrs ago. My husband, son and I hiked the John Muir Trail. I wasn't at my highest wt, abt 210# , and carried a 40 # pack.  I felt such a rush of sad emotions. I received so many negative looks out there in the hiking world  "what the hell do you think you are doing?..."but I did it, 235 miles. I am proud of that accomplishment, yet still overwhelmed with sadness. I haven't worked through it . My joints ache more now than ever, the result of years of overexercise. I feel like I have aged 10 yrs in the last 2.
I understand your tears. For me, I know that I couldn't continue on that same path of despair. The future continues to lie ahead of me, and you.

Susan
You are so beautiful in all of your photos--very photogenic!

I tried to update my avatar with a photo, but the site keeps saying that the file size is too big, even though it is below the size limit. I definitely feel as though I "know" a person better when I see an avatar that is individualized.

Thank you for a brilliant post Jenna. You have expressed my very thoughts in a most articulate way. You have helped me process feelings that I couldn't organize in my mind. That other woman that I lived with since I was a preteen, nearly 50 years is gone. She was courageous, courteous, and totally subdued by her weight.

Wonderful post, Jenna.  I totally understand what you mean.  Even though I wouldn't change anything about my WL journey & am totally happy to be where I am & who I am today, there was security in knowing who I was.  Leaving that person wasn't really a choice, I changed, even if I think it was for the better.  I still left that girl behind.  More than a few times, I would look at myself & literally say, who is this girl staring back at me.  I feel like I don't even know me . . . & not just physically, though that was part of it.

In the end, I think we've accomplished our goals well if we can change for the better.  There's some points along the way that I question what I did or who I was as represented by my behaviors & interactions with others, but in the end, it was part of the process for me & I'm okay with it.

Thank you for the insightful post!

See, I cannot bring myself to honor the former me. I was so ashamed of her, and still am kind of. I'm not sure how to deal with that.

I'm just a pre-op, so I have no idea what your journey has been like for you but I wanted to say thanks for sharing this personal moment. Change has always been a bit unnerving for me, and one of my concerns about having surgery was how much I would change as a person afterwards. Will I still know myself, will I even like myself? There are so many different aspects that make up who we are that I think there's just no way to really anticipate just how much of that will be altered from the dramatic changes that come after surgery. But life is about change, right? And reading this has given me hope that even though I may no longer be the same person after surgery, I can still be grateful for whatever changes do come without losing sight of what it took to get there.

Wonderful post Jenna. It really struck an emotional cord with me because right now I am the pre-op you.