(Early) Four year surgiversary post: take food OUT of the equation...

Cleopatra_Nik
on 1/5/12 10:00 pm - Baltimore, MD

(Warning: SUPER long. My surgiversary is Sunday. I am posting now as I am not sure of my weekend plans.)

In a lot of ways that’s what I am feeling called to do on this, the eve of my four year surgiversary.

 

Take food out of the equation.

 

Lately, I’ve been restless, listless. More significantly, I’ve been “mission-less." Let me explain what I mean.

 

Newbies, when you have your surgery you are on a mission. You have hard numbers, clear goals set before you. Sixty grams of protein a day (for some of us), 64 oz. water, several doses of vitamins, minutes of activity…and a goal weight.

 

And as you get further out these goals sort of arc. You find you can eat more so your mission tweaks a bit to watching how much you eat and of what type of foods. You hit a stall and your mission tweaks to go harder at your activity. All in pursuit of that ultimate mission — your goal weight.

 

Some of you reach your goal weight, some of you don’t. I was never given one but still I’m pretty sure I didn’t reach mine. I can say that by the two year mark, I really felt as if I wanted to be a normal person. Now granted, I don’t even know what that means and I’m even MORE sure I’ve never, ever been one than I am that I didn’t reach my goal weight. But if you’d asked me right then and there, at the two year mark, what I wanted most in the whole, wide world, I would have told you this.

 

I want to wake up in the morning and not think about what I’m eating for breakfast. I’d like to be able to trust that I’ll eat a healthy breakfast instead of talking myself INTO eating a healthy breakfast every day. I’d like to be able to leave a little extra food on my plate as I eat with others and not have the food talking to me. I’d like to be in the house with a jar of peanut butter and know it’s there and not have IT talking to me. I’d like to be able to sit still (I still have trouble with that). I’d like to be able to enjoy the simple things in life. I’d like to know what this elusive thing called contentment feels like.

 

So in year two I started to delve deeper into myself, trying to find out what stood between me and those things. At this point, food became a bit arbitrary. I ate. I’m a food addict, of course I ate! But one thing I was thankful for at that point was that I’d established some habits — and I am a creature of habit — so every day I ate pretty much the same thing. I didn’t mind doing that. To this day it’s actually quite comforting.

 

As I approached year three, something interesting happened. I started to see, with my eyes, the progress I’d made. That would have been that much more awesome if it’d happened at my low weight. By this time I had bounced but I still saw that I was so much smaller than I used to be. But for some reason that didn’t bring me joy. Satisfaction, yes. Joy, no. I was satisfied that the surgery had done what it was supposed to do physically. But at that point the realization was more apparent than ever that the more important part to me, the mental part, was my business.

 

In short, they operated on my digestive system, not on my brain.

 

So this past year has been a year of contemplation for me. The roots of my food addiction run deep. I am the child of an addict, who is the child of an addict, so in many ways the fact that I picked up an addiction isn’t surprising. I’m also a survivor of child abuse and this year I pushed myself through some of the more painful memories in hopes of figuring out who that kid was and how she came to be the woman I am today.

 

Because I wrapped that girl in bubble tape to protect her from the big, bad wolf. And for a long time she wasn’t allowed to feel, or cry, or call out for help. Her directive, her mission was clear: stay still and be quiet. There’s a life going on and if you start kicking up, you’re going to mess it up.

 

About midway through this year I decided that was no longer acceptable. This half life I’ve been living is no longer acceptable. So I worked on accepting the things about myself that I knew I could not change (thank you, Serenity Prayer). I am always going to have trust issues. I am never going to do things the traditional way. And I am always going to need just a little extra time to embrace change in my life.

 

So…here I stand today, nearly four years out. Out of financial concern, I’ve most often had to be my own therapist and this board has been my psychologist’s couch. I’ve worked out so many thoughts here, so many unhealthy patterns. I’ve asked tough questions and gotten intelligent answers. And I’m thankful for that.

 

Now, back to the original post title. Each year since my surgery I’ve felt a calling to a mandate:

 

Year One it was lose the weight

Year Two it was figure out who you are now that you’ve lost the weight

Year Three it was figure out why that person wasn’t happy

Year Four (the one I just went through) it was reconcile who you used to be with who you are now
And going into my fifth year after surgery, the calling is to take food out of the equation

 

I’ll still eat. I’m a food addict (and a human), of course I’ll still eat. But I desperately, desperately want to be able to go forward in life not regarding food as my security blanket. And I still do at this point.

 

So next year when I post this same long, rambly, contemplative message, I hope to tell you I’ve done some radical things to try and bring some balance to my thinking. And I hope to tell you it’s been at least partially successful.


Thank you all, old friends and new, for being here for me throughout my journey. Even though I am four years out on Sunday, I know it’s only just begun. My body has recovered from obesity (I am no longer obese…overweight, yes. Obese, no) and I am more hopeful than I’ve ever been before that my psyche can do the same.

RNY Gastric Bypass 1-8-08 350/327/200 (HW/SW/CW). I spend most of my time playing with my food over at Bariatric Foodie - check me out!

paranoidmother21
on 1/5/12 10:09 pm - Lake Zurich, IL
Definitely want a "like" button for this. Thanks, Nik, for pointing a pathway so articulately.
Rebecca
Circumferential LBL, anchor TT, BL/BR, brachioplasty 12-16-10 Drs. Howard and Gutowski

Thigh lift 3-24-11, Drs. Howard and Gutowski again!
Height 5' 5".  Start point 254.  DH's goal: 154.  My guess: 144.  Insurance goal: 134.  Currently bouncing around 130-135.
      
candie33
on 1/5/12 10:30 pm
Grat post Nik

 

    
Citizen Kim
on 1/5/12 10:40 pm - Castle Rock, CO
A very insightful post, Nik, as always!   Happy surgiversary for Sunday ...

Proud Feminist, Atheist, LGBT friend, and Democratic Socialist

prazhym
on 1/5/12 11:01 pm
Nik
That post was awesome!  I am going to cut and paste it so I can read it often.  I am not even a year out and I struggle with all of these issues and more.  Thank you from my food buddha and my heart!
ann
    
nfarris79
on 1/5/12 11:04 pm - Germantown, MD
 Wishing you a happy Surgiversary weekend & continued mental health!!!!

First ultra: Stone Mill 50 miler 11/15/14 13:44:38, First Full Marathon: Marine Corps 10/27/13 4:57:11Half Marathon PR 2:04:43 at Shamrock VA Beach Half-Marathon, 12/2/12 First Half-Marathon 2:32:47, 5K PR  Run Under the Lights 5K 27:23 on 11/23/13, 10K PR 52:53 Pike's Peek 10K 4/21/13(1st timed run) Accumen 8K 51:09 10/14/12.

     
 

ramos1120
on 1/5/12 11:16 pm - Camdenton, MO
Thank you for a great post! You have helped alot of people on this board including myself.  So Thank you again, Have a great weekend and best of luck with the rest of your journey,

Raynetta

5'2": SW 232 - CW 169- LW- 135  GW -140

Rdy4change11
on 1/6/12 12:37 am - GA
Thank you so much for posting this!  Love it!
Frances S.
on 1/6/12 12:52 am - Crystal Falls, MI
 Nik -- our cir****tances aren't the same, and yet your wls journey has very closely foreshadowed my own experiences.

Thank you for sharing your interpretations of the emotional and psychological aspect -- because it helps me to recognize that as I go through these same phases and processes that I'm progressing in this mental transformation.
Kim S.
on 1/6/12 12:54 am - Helena, AL
You. Are. Awesome.

I love watching you evolve, and I love the way you make us think.

Happy Anniversary-here's to many, many more.

Kim
             
     
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