So here I am. On the eve of my 9 months post op. I’ve been on this journey as long as a baby develops. It’s a long time. And it flew by like the Southeaster winds here in Cape Town.
And I have such mixed feelings. I don’t know where to begin.
I honestly don’t!
Today I am wearing a pair of skinny jeans. It would never have fit me EVER, not even closely. Couldn’t get my calves in there even. And now? The bloody pants is too big! I am sitting here and it is hanging loose around my hips and legs. And it says SKINNY on it!
Of course I am not skinny. Not yet. Hopefully one day.
Anyway. It is a weird feeling.
Sometimes I still get surprised at random stuff. Like last night I was stretching my arm out to my love, and I looked at my arm, and I was like, who’s thin arm is this???
I have lost two thirds of my excess weight. A third still to go. I realise I won’t make it in time for my one year anniversary on April 17th. But that is ok. As long as I am weighing in the 80s, I will be elated (that is in kilograms – even if it is 89,9 kg, I’ll be so happy!). because the thing is, I can’t REMEMBER when last I was that weight. I remember when I was 17 years old, I weighed in the 90s. So I’ll be really happy if I am in the 80s by then.
This operation has changed my life. It changed me. In a good way.
If you are considering it, prepare yourself though. The MENTAL ride you go on is the craziest thing ever.
Maybe it’s just me. Probably is, just me. I had some mental problems beforehand, that was never dealt with. But you see, I do tend to believe that all people (well, most, there are exceptions to this) who are so grossly overweight do have some mental issue of some kind. And they self-medicated with food. That is how you get this size. That is my take on it, in any case.
And even if you didn’t get at that size because of some issues, you certainly GET some issues being that big – what with all the taunting and self-loathing, and degrading of yourself. The everyday struggle. Putting yourself down. Being put down by others. THINKING you see the disdain in strangers’ eyes. That does something to a person.
Anyway. So my biggest journey, to my surprise, was not the pounds lost showing up on the scale (although that was the initial high and yay and hoorah). No, my biggest journey is getting to the centre of me. Of who I am. What is wrong. And how can I fix it. And that I am ok enough. That I am actually a great person. That I can and will and shall deal with my demons. Deal with it, and then put it away. And live my life. As I should’ve been doing (and never ever really was).
So that’s me being all philosophical on the eve of my 9 months post op!