ho ho ho. 2 days to go.

It is just before Christmas and I am feeling bleh. I am tired, I am a bit sad, I am a bit frustrated. I don’t know what’s going on with me. Probably my new meds. I dunno.

Went to the psych again and he added Wellbutrin to my mix. Read mixed reviews about it. Also discovered it is being used for people to stop smoking!

But I don’t want to stop smoking!

The thing is, I know I have to. But currently I am struggling my way through a marshland of serious mental difficulties. This weight loss has made a volcano erupt somehow. Which is a good thing, cause it’s stuff that was always there under the surface with which I never dealt. I dealt with it by eating myself to death.

Now I don’t eat myself to death anymore, thank fuck. BUT. now I am dealing with things I’ve had difficulty dealing with for over 20 years. And I need something. So I have  my menthols.

(And lately some Benylin with codeine, and that is so so so bad, i am trying to stop, honest to God)

It is just that I am crawling out of my skin, I want to shout, but it is as if it’ll just resonate, from one corner to the other to the other to the other all over me.

And in the meantime I am trying to cope with my parents’ very dire situation as well as me and my brother had a big falling out, which totally tore my world apart.

It also came to light that indeed it seems I am bipolar. so yay, I suffered from untreated bipolar disorder right through my teens and student years and trying to do my best, and fix everything and everyone, and yeah. Couldn’t just help myself anymore.

So I ate.

Now. I smoke. And now these Wellbutrin tablets (or the sleeping pills he prescribed) are leaving a TERRIBLE taste in my mouth. I struggle to drink water even, and I LOVE water! That is all I drink! litres of it!

So it seems a bit of a problem.

Anyhow.

I am trying to center myself and stay focused and taking me-time and do mindfullness as I was told. And it feels that it is working. But then I get moments like these. Where I sit in front of my computer and work and I just want to cry. And I don’t feel like doing anything. The thought of going home and reading a book doesn’t even excite me and make me happy – and that concerns me, because that is surely my favourite thing.

I don’t know. Sometimes I just get tired of this long journey I am on. It has its oases. Make no mistake. There are wonderful places along this yellow brick road. So many, that I would have to do a seperate post. But this is my moaning post. Cause I need to wallow a bit. When I am feeling better, I promise I will tell you all about the cool places I’ve discovered on this journey.

But now this weirdly bipolar, demented, disordered, girl interrupted just needs a bloody break.

And a smoke, darnit.

 

wandering down the yellow brick road

In less than a week I am 7 months post-op.

 

What a ride it has been thus far.

Difficult to wrap my head around it. I am a changed person. Mostly for the better. I am healthier, I feel more at ease in my skin, I can breathe better, I sleep better, I WALK better.

 

Sometimes the road still ahead gets to me though. I am sure it has some to do with my mental state. A lot of mental issues has come to the surface.

Things I obviously have been burying under a ridiculous amount of weight.

Trying to cope, trying to stay on course in my life, trying to deal with being on edge permanently, combating my perpetual state of anxiety.

And here it is, the big revelation of it all. I am dead on sure that I “suffer” from Borderline Personality Disorder.

And binge-eating was one of the ways to cope.

I am seeing a psychologist every week (and still regular check-ups to my psychiatrist as well) and it has helped a lot.

She hasn’t confirmed Borderline to me yet, but I can pick it up. In the way we talk about things, what comes up, her reaction – her words. I just know it in my gut.

So yeah, big and hectic things. Things that make the weight loss itself take a back-seat for a while. Something I don’t want to happen, but inevitably does.

So, I just try and deal with it.

I am glad for this surgery. It has made me come to a point where I can stand up and face my demons, look them squarely in the face. Not backing off. Not backing down. Not hiding away. Not eating myself in oblivion to try and attain numbness.

And albeit it a scary journey, it is a necessary one. And one I am so glad I am finally able to face, and travel on, to be able to reach my end destination.

 

FIVE MONTHS OUT!

So today marks my 5 months post op halfway house.

 

And where am i?

 

Physically I am in quite a good space. I have lost 37 kilograms. That is almost 40!  That’s crazy man. I want to start lauging when I see that, I mean, who loses 40 kilograms? Definitely not ME, other people, I READ about, not me, not in a million years.

 

And here I am. Almost 40kgs lighter.

 

I am only halfway there, though. Another 40 to go. But somehow 40 does seem a bit more doable than 80 (seeing I have done 40 now and KNOW I can do it).

What a crazy thought.

 

Would it seem really horrible of me if I stated here that I think it should be more? That I could’ve done more? Because you know what, I could’ve. I’ve sabotaged myself here and there over the past 5 months. I only started exercising about two weeks ago (yeah, that is a shocker, for various reasons). I should’ve started a month post op, imagine where I could’ve been?

Also, I tend to eat chocolate. That is my only little pleasure left, and I indulge in it sometimes. Not all the time, and no not nearly as much as before the op.

 

But still it is there. And following the rules – it shouldn’t be. It doesn’t help that I don’t dump on chocolate (lucky me!!). but I will dump (or rather, go into a state of disarray) on apples.

 

So it frustrates me. The weight is coming off much more slowly now, and I want it to go faster. I don’t really know what I am feeling, to tell you the truth.

Something I have to say – and I realise this time and again – the biggest obstacle and challenge is mental. It is not physically. It is not the eating and the exercising and the not eating.

It is what is going on in your head. Well, for me that is, at least.

I get very emotional. I freak out. I cry. I get despondent. I get difficult. I cry. Sometimes I am elated, don’t get me wrong, I am not saying this op is putting one into a depression. God, not at all, do you know how much happier a human being I am for having this op? a lot!  I am just saying – it plays some mental tricks on you and it takes some time to get your ducks in a row.

Things can go haywire, but I suppose it is my hormones and especially also that I don’t have my “crutch” of food anymore. It is like the carpet was pulled from right under me. Things get bad for little Obeasta, and she scurries along to her corner in the dark and go eat something for comfort.

Now something bad happens and Obeasta don’t know where to go.

 

So my biggest wish and hope is that the psychological part of this whole trip of bariatric surgery gets sorted a bit. I find that I don’t really have any support on this front. Supposedly we have, it is in the paperwork, but nah, it doesn’t feel that way.

Also, I wasn’t very comfortable with the psychiatrist we had to see beforehand for the psych eval. That meeting had me feeling that something was lacking. I don’t know. Some understanding? Support? I am quite the observer and consider myself a good judger of people (jeez that sounds bad), but I just knew that I will not be returning to this man for guidance and help in the future.

And that leaves me out in the cold, because where do I turn?

I’ve been looking for psychologists specialising in patients with bariatric surgery and I haven’t found any. Here in Cape Town.

In the papers we received, a name was given of a lady that is part of the bariatric support team. In fact her details are still on there. But I haven’t seen her, not ONCE at any meeting or anything. I also heard from more than one patient that they had quite an upsetting experience with her and didn’t go back.

So where does this leave me?

I feel I need to talk to someone about everything that is happening to me. And also, how to develop strategies to relearn ways of dealing with issues. Obviously I’ve dealt with it incorrectly in the past (read: eating it all quiet).

The mental part of this journey is so so so important and honestly, it is the thing I struggled with most. The bariatric team behind me are so splendid, and did such an excellent job, it saddens me that this one part of it is falling behind so much. Especially as it is one of the most important parts. I need to sort my head out if I want this to be a success in the long term!

 

HEEEEEEEELP!

 

(but otherwise all is good in Obeastaland, thanks for asking.)

what a feeling.

 

oh wow, what a feeling!

 

So this past weekend, I went to the shops. Clothing shops. I got my salary and I was taking mum out to the shops, just so that she can get out a bit as well, you know.

We see this shop and SPECIAL winking at us and we thought hey, let’s go have a look.

And then a strange thing started happening. I was looking at sizes, to fit me, and I didn’t look automatically for the biggest size on the rack.  Nope.

 

Then off to the fitting room. Me and mum next to each other (for the record, she is a tiny little thing, no weight issues there).

And then I saw it, as I took one of the dresses off the hanger. It is a size 16. Dumb idiot, I thought to myself, how did you look?? Grabbed the wrong one!  Last time I was in the clothing shops I was struggling to find anything in a 26.  Where the hell you’re coming from with this 16, goddammit.

But I was standing there, naked, and the dress (the SIZE 16 DRESS) in my hand and I thought, what the hell, just pull it out over your head and see the disaster for yourself.

And then.

The revelation.

IT FIT!  I FIT INTO A SIZE 16!

how does it feel????

 

IT FEELS FUCKING AWESOME, IS HOW IT FEELS!

I showed my mum. and then I started crying. Like an old hag. In front of the mirror. From all sides. And my mum, my tiny skinny mum, just gave me a big hug.

So that was my first happy day in a clothing shop.

Victories 1

Victory 1 – I can take a nice hot bath! Before the op I couldn’t fit into our bath. How sad is that?

Victory 2 – I am not falling asleep at work anymore! In fact, I have quite some energy and tend to be quite upbeat. That’s new.

Victory 3 – fitting into some clothes that did not fit. At all.

Victory 4 – When we went on holiday 2 weeks ago, I walked for an hour (through a forest) – and then I walked up a mountain! All fairness, it was pretty much a hill. But that damn thing felt like a mountain. And I did it! I did it all! If you told me to do that before the op, I would’ve laughed a bit. And then cried a lot.

So on the eve of 3 months post op, things are looking good!

Renewed energy

I can really kick myself in the butt (if I could).

Why? Because I could’ve been further in my weight loss journey. Why? Cause I’ve been messing about, struggling day by day, worrying about what I should eat, and not managing to get in all my vitamins and such.

And what was the result? Me becoming a crazy person.

Yep, one big crying mess always feeling on edge. And sometimes snapping at my loved ones.

So you know what happened last night? My awesome boyfriend said “I am here to help”. And that is what he did.

He dried off my tears and truly let me know I don’t have to do this alone. Cause it is tough, man.

So what did we do?

* worked out a full menu for the week. Breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner. For every day. With variety.
* made a shopping list for exactly what we need for these meals this week.
* worked out a daily schedule for when to take my vits, iron and calcium, all worked around my mealtimes.

Result?

One happy obeast!

Feeling on control and I am content! So whenever you feel the crazy coming on, stop for a moment and check whether all tour ducks are in a row for the week. If they are not, do it immediately, and I promise solemnly that you will feel brand spanking now.

Now why the hell did I not start doing this earlier??

where does the time go?

Who knows where the time goes!

Seriously need to get back into my blogging. And will do so. Diligently. I feel as things are slipping away from under me. My blogging. My diet. My vitamins. My sanity.

Perhaps because it is winter. And I am feeling emotional lately.

I am a week away from 3 months post op. And feel strangely in Nomansland. I’ve been getting quite a few compliments already on my weightloss and looking good and all that. Why do I feel so distanced and estranged almost though? As if my mind is a haze and everything is a bit of a haze.

Anyone experienced that? Is this normal?