Mourning Food

I think you guys who are early post-op or soon to be post-op will definately be able to relate to this.  When I was 3 months out is when the loss of food hit me the hardest.  Occasionally I still have days where I want chocolate so bad I could cry (so don't think that surgery is a magic bullet that is going to make you stop wanting foods and stop wanting to stuff yourself because that is simply not true.  For sure it will help, but look at me - I am almost 2 years out and I dump hard on sugar, fatty foods and anything that has a lot of white flour and I still want those things sometimes), but it was at 3 months I actually did a lot of crying over food.  With surgery my crutch got taken away.  I used food to comfort myself, to give me something to do when bored, to celebrate my achievements, to express love, to stiffle emotions, to relate to people - and after surgery you just can't do that anymore.  I don't know if 3 months was magic because of the timing or because of what was going on in my personal life, but either way it was a really rough patch.  I wanted to share this (a blog entry of mine from February 2006) with you guys so you can prepare yourselves for it or know you are not alone when you're experiencing it   I miss my friends...ice cream where art thou? Chili cheese dogs, why have you abandoned me, or alas was it me who abandoned you? Do not hate me my dear old friends, you are missed more than I can express. There has been some bad stuff happening in my personal life that makes me feel like I NEED a chili cheese dog with fries and a mountian dew, followed by a strawberry shake. But no, cottage cheese and wheat crackers here I come. I tried a chili cheese dog a week or two ago and I will never do that again. I could FEEL and TASTE the grease. It was just not the same. Chili cheese dog, did you change? Or was it me? We've just grown apart I guess...Anyway, I'm mourning some old friends right now. When I was getting ready for surgery my psychologist told me to write good bye notes to my favorite comfort foods that I probably wouldn't get to eat again. I pulled out that journal and here is a little exert from the chili cheese dog entry..."And on Sunday nights at Culver's, how we laughed. Surrounded by friends from youth group, the delicious smell of you filling my nostrils as sweet conversation floated around me, I was at peace. You and I always had such a special time, you, me and some fries, what else could a girl want? And when he cheated on me, do you remember that night when I got home? I believe there were two of you along with a massive pile of fries, a box of tissue and a pint of strawberry ice cream for later. My salty tears mixing with the ketchup as I cried to you and you comforted me by filling the hole in my heart. But was it my heart you filled? Or was it my belly, thighs and butt that you filled to over-flowing? There is no blame for you though, you filled me the only way you knew how, and at the time that was comfort enough. I will miss you my special companion..." It goes on from there, you get the picture. Today, here is the note I added..."And here I sit years after our meeting, only three months from our eternal parting, and I want that comfort you offered again. The hole in my heart is bigger now, the betrayal worse and more ill-timed than all those years ago. He betrayed me again, and when I turned to you for comfort you betrayed me too. Your grease that used to satisfy my palate, turns my stomach; the smell that used to lure me in, makes me turn from you in disgust; the full feeling you used to create in my belly that used to be the greatest comfort, alludes me and frightens me now. There is no turning back now friend. Between you and I a thin line of tissue, solid as steel, now separates us forever. Know that I miss you and am hurting without you, and understand that I wish there were some healthy way we could meet again, but through that separating tissue no passage exists. I will have to find comfort somewhere else, for my pain is great and my strength running low. Thank you for being there for me all these years, your work is complete with me, so I will part from you with no regrets. But I will think of you, and remember all you did for me with a sad fondness." It was supposed to be funny, the thought of writing to a food like it were a living, breathing person, who had thoughts and emotions was supposed to be hilarious. If it is so funny, if it is so ridiculous that I pour my heart out to a roll of deli leftovers smothered in tomato and beef filled grease, topped off with a fatty cheese-like substance, nestled in an empty-calorie-white-flour bun, why are tears filling my eyes and threatening to spill over? I will tell you why. Because no matter how much I hate the fact that I found comfort in food, a fact it is and now I have to re-learn how to deal with grief, anger, hurt, happiness, hopeless-ness, and a whole host of other emotions in a way that doesn't involve food. Now I have to really FEEL those emotions rather than smothering them in food. Feel them I will, and deal with them I will, but I don't have to like it.     See - it was rough.  But you know what?  It gets easier with practice and with time.  Take heart and if you ever are in need of some encouragement or a sympathetic ear of someone who has been there, I am happy to listen and help when I can.  Have a lovely night!

Thanks for sharing this Amy. My post-op fall apart over losing food is many months behind me, but it was one of the hardest things that has ever happened to me, and I don't think we are prepared well enough for the psychological consequences of losing that "relationship". I wish I had written breakup letters to my favorite foods, it probably would have helped! Have a fantastic day!