Well I am doing this post bass-ackwards, because this is what I do. It takes me awhile to process all my thoughts and emotions sometimes. Over the summer I decided to have the gastric sleeve. Well honestly I have been thinking about this for the past 12 years now, but one day, I was just sick of it. ALL OF IT.
I’ve struggled with my weight most of my adult life for one reason or another. A lot has to do with my health: VSD, pacemaker, CHF, hashimoto’s, factor V, pulmonary embolism..blah-blah- booo-fucking-hooo… And I was sick and tired, feeling so sick and tired. I really was born with the short end of the gene pool. I know this. I can’t control any of it. Most days I can let it roll of me, like a duck feathers. But there are somedays I am down right homicidal. There is nothing but rage. Yeh I know I am so damn happy all the time.. I hide my shit well. But really like all of us, I am pissed at the world for no other reason, then to be pissed. Everything hits me all at once, I feel every bad event, every heart break ever had, every stupid disappoint and I am just utterly angry. I can’t even ask questions, like why me.. because there are no answers to that other then, life just fucking sucks Zoila, you have no choice, fucking deal with it. (before you go offer your sympathy.. don’t… it doesn’t do you or myself any good) It eventually passes, luckily those moments are fleeting. When I was a teenager.. well I didn’t have such self control. Another story for another time.
So one day that I was feeling particularly rageful. I decided to take control and strop pissing & moaning to myself. I decided, what the hell. I am going to call the weight loss center. What could hurt, right? Best decision EVER! I spent my summer & fall going to classes: pre-op classes, healthy-eating classes, and exercising classes. Granted I have tried many many many diets before. I do like the gym and being active. But there was something different about this. It wasn’t just the surgery aspect. I never ever addressed my emotional eating. I never was fully aware of it how bad the problem was. I never thought of myself as truly one of “those” emotional eaters. I never thought of food as an addiction. I half-heartly joked about it from time to time, but I didn’t think that was “my” problem. You know what? It most certainly was. I can only blame my congenial disorders but so much. They are only but part of the problem. The truth of the matter is, I really love to eat. I love to eat when: I am happy, when I am sad, when I am with my family, when I’m anxious, when I’m angry, to celebrate, to mourn, after I have sex, and any other emotion or lack there of in between. Food is sooo utterly sensual & comforting to me. Not only am I in love with eating. I love to cook! Good grief, no wonder I have struggled for so long!
Up until surgery, I hadn’t much support from my family. Well it isn’t that they didn’t want me to loose weight. It’s that I’ve had lots of surgeries in my life, and quite frankly I scare the hell out of them. I wish I had the self control needed to loose 170lbs. Where I was at, everything was becoming so uncomfortable. I felt like I had no more options. The weight was causing my already health problems to worsen. I never thought walking would become an issue for me. But here I was 32, chest hurting just by walking. In my mind, this was no difference in the gastric sleeve and needing a new pacemaker. It has to be done. “Do or die Bitch!” This is the one and only thing I can control and this is what I am do. I am going to save me from me. I am going to be my own hero this time. Having this surgery is too much of a sacrifice to EVER get back to 320lbs again. Surgery day comes and goes. It just so happens on Dec. 23rd 2013. I miss Christmas morning with children. It isn’t ideal, but you know, that’s how life is sometimes. I do eventually come home Christmas day.
Post Surgery, I visit my family for what I like to call 2nd Christmas. I am obviously sore, but ever so delighted to see my family and they are to see me. I get questions about what I can and can not eat. Now mind you, our family LOVES to eat to. I tell them I’m not eating “this” or “that” again. As I am talking to them, they are pushing food. The very ones who wanted to help me loose weight, but not very supportive of the surgery in the first place. Now,I’m not angry. It really makes me think on how we were raised. We were raised to express our love through food. My god do we LOOOVVEEE each other. MY GOD DO WE LOVE FOOD! I’ve written about how large my family is. Well imagine all those birthdays that have feast, now add all those holidays, now add that to all those just cause we miss each other. Really it’s quite ridiculous the amount of food we eat. It not the worse thing ever. It’s been engrained in my head, in all our heads for that matter, that food is the way to a happy life.
It occurs to me, that I am not the only problem. Obviously, I put the food in my mouth. If you want to know about a culture. There 6 key things that will most certainly tell you everything about a culture. Food, Dance, Music, Children, & the Elderly. Food, being on top of the list. Food is universal. Much like music & dance. It’s well … primal. I don’t think I am the only one who has so much love for food. I also don’t believe it’s just us Americans. Food has been the source of celebration throughout the ages. It’s hardwired for us to love food as much as we do. Here’s the problem. We have not evolved quite as fast as technology has. We have not evolved as fast as processed food. We have changed our environment but we still our still very basic human beings. Our foods are loaded with unnecessary calories, sugars, and dies, GMOs, and food is no longer a source of sustenance. We no longer eat because we have to, we eat because we can. We eat more and do less. Food has become something obscene vulgar. This is where I must change my thinking on food.
I will still be in love with all of it’s sensation of food. But I will no longer will I be mindless about food. To my friends & family. You will just have to show your love another way. Like shoes & corsets. I really fucking love shoes & corsets. Maybe even some wild ass makeup & books, but please no cookies, cakes, or pastries.
And here is something funny. Even though I know I am fat. I never had those big girl hang ups. Like no body loves me, every body hates me, bullshit. If anything I have a rather over inflated ego. In my head I am 5’10 drop dead gorgeous Amazon who can crush the world with her bare hands! Muahahahahahahahahaha!!!!! Then I look at pictures of myself. I’m like, “wow.. is that me? I am a lot fatter then I think I am.” Which is oddly humorous. I’ve never once thought I wasn’t beautiful or awesome or I wasn’t good enough. I’ve barely been mistreated by men. If anything I generally get a lot of attention where ever I go, and men are rather wonderful to me. Which obviously pets my already big ego. (I’m human, I can admit this) What I don’t like is I can’t run a mile or two. Mainly, I don’t like feeling as strong as I know I am. I’m so looking forward to the gym this year. 3 more weeks and I will be able to start going again. Look out world, 2014 is going to be the year of the Zoila the Amazon.