If you never read another piece of unsolicited advice, please read this one.

I've had some success-- I suppose I can admit as much at this point, although it feels weird. So now I get a lot of people who PM asking for advice, or saying they look up to me, and flattering though that is, it's silly, because I pretty much just follow the rules (okay, the ones that make sense) and it all comes out in the wash. So I usually don't have much to add when people ask how you get where I have gotten, there's no great mystery: the reason I have been successful in some ways that others have failed I usually pass off as luck.

But that's not entirely true. I just realized it. There actually *is* one more piece, and because I love ya, I am going to share it with you now. Sounds trifling, but it contains volumes.

Here it is: YOU CAN do hard things.

I know, you're saying, "What's your point?"

Sometimes, when faced with a challenge-- especially if you're a recovering addict as so many of us are, when you approach something difficult, your inner voice says, "Holy crap-- I can't DO that"...and you do an about-face-- you reach for the drug (or Ring Ding) of choice. To feel uncomfortable..and not to comfort yourself, is a hard thing --

but you can do hard things.

When it's late and you're tired, and you know you are supposed to walk, you said you would, and it's looking like it might rain-- it's hard as hell to lace those sneakers up and get out there---

but you can do hard things.

Protein shakes can taste yucky. It's hard to remember all those calcium supplements. It's hard to get 64 oz of water in. It's hard to plan meals, buy expensive and healthy choices, stay out of the cake in the lounge at work--

but you can do hard things.

You don't have to self-medicate. You don't have to eat those chips. You don't have to duck and avoid every unpleasant, difficult challenge in your path. Sometimes, the best bet is to admit their existance..."Yes, hard things, I see you trying to get in my way, but you know what? I CAN DO HARD THINGS!"

Sometimes this means having to survive a host of feelings you never felt before because you never let yourself feel them before-- stress, confusion, anger, rage. You can't numb them out or sand off their edges-- you have to stand right in your space and let them have a go at you-- and grit your teeth, and say to yourself, "Go ahead, get in my way. I'll get through this. I can do hard things."

And you will find that you will survive them. And as you survive them, you will face new ones, standing a little taller, because in time you will eventually understand and rely on the fact that you can do hard things. And eventually the "pass me some Ben and Jerry's--my boss is a jackass" response gives way to something new-- something that sounds more like this:

"Go ahead, Boss, bring it on. I'll have that on your desk by five."
"No thanks, Nancy, it's gorgeous but I really can't have an eclair right now."
"I guess I could just park back there and walk."
"It's only 8 ounces and I don't have to love the stuff, I'll just drink it quickly."
"If I spend ten minutes planning now, I won't be faced with tough choices later."

Post RNY living is no joke. It's not easy. It's not fun. It's not all "Whee, I'm a size 6!" Not everyone takes it as badly as I did, but there were days I *literally* cried because a kid at a store could have a cookie and I couldn't. I felt sorry for myself and holed up in my jammies, burning candles, and chatting here to avoid my fridge.

When I started, I could literally not walk further than my car, which is about 100 feet from my door. I bargained with myself that getting down to maybe 250 pounds would be JUST FINE, I didn't need more than that because I though to ask more from myself was ridiculous, impossible-- who the hell loses 220 pounds? That's not even humanly possible, seriously!

And I found out the answer to who does that : it's ME. *I* can lose 220 pounds-- I know it because I *did* it . I can manage my intake. I can get in my supplements. I can learn to accept my new, imperfect body. And with planning and management, I can make a post op life that still provides pleasure, joy and fulfillment.

I and I don't do those things because they are easy-- I do them because they're hard, but I *can*.
I can do hard things.

And so can you. And you will. So the next time it's all too much (and it is for me too, although less often as I grow), look your RNY challenge-- whatever it is--- boldy in the face and say, "I can do this. I can do hard things."

Then pull out all the stops and grab the brass ring-- it's there for the taking!

I'm going to print this off and put it on my fridge!!!! You are so great!!

 Me too!!  Great outlook on the whole process.  I'm so glad I'm came across this post.  

Thanks,
Teresa  

Very well put Shari--not only relevant to Weight Loss Surgery but to life as well! 

You are right--I can do this--I can do hard things.   That phrase is my new mantra. 

You are an inspiration and show all of us that following the rules will give us all a shot at success.  Your journey with plastic surgery also shows all of us that you can MOST DEFINITELY do hard things.  Going through the pain you have gone through shows us all that anything that is worthwhile requires hard work and possibly pain. 

As my mother used to always say when she would brush and comb my hair when I was a child and I would scream because of the tangles--(this is sort of translated from German)--"If you want to be beautiful, you may have to endure some pain".  Something like that.  Attaining a goal requires hard work and possibly pain.  We always have to keep our eye on the prize -- whether it is weight loss or maintenance.

Sylvia

Viele herzlichen Dank, Sylvia! Ihre Mutti war eine sehr intelligente Frau!

 Just curious - what is the quote?  Your mother was a very intelligent woman?  Ich habe zu vielen Deutsch vergessen.



Mine was too but her politics were awful.

Exactly.

 Geesh I have done hard things all my life.  But this one is - I guess - one more.  I just had surgery July 16, so I'm still getting used to this stuff.

 Well said.

 Thanks, Shari, for hitting the nail so squarely on the head. For so many of us, avoiding the difficult, painful stuff is what got us here in the first place. Knowing we can face it and come out the other side is what will make this a permanent change. I may have to get that tattooed post-op. I'll credit you, of course. ;)