ALMOST 9 months!

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!



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.


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.


Update – breakdown

I need to make a statement.

This last few weeks I have been in a very very very bad space (mainly because of office politics and not the op – plus I have a feeling i might suffer from borderline personality disorder).

Now the statement. I want to retract what i said about the psychiatrist. Why? Because I said some harsh things not feeling supported.

I said that because I was in crisis.

And you know what? This man made every effort to fit me into his busy schedule on short notice when I flipped and reached out for help this week.

And that is what I have come to realise. One has to reach out for help when you feel you need it. People can’t read your mind.

I am forever grateful for this man for grabbing my hand when I was drowning. And taking the time to listen and to help and advise. And to CARE. Cause i realised – he honestly cares.

Got me some meds and starting to feel better.

Also started seeing a psychologist – on his advice and i am so happy that i am doing this. I clearly need it.

I am so happy for all the help i received.

Blessed is what i am.

I also saw my surgeon. He was awesome! Quite happy with my progress and it made me feel so good. He says i am quite on track. I walked out of there feeling even lighter 😉

My bloodwork is all good. Yay for me!

Current weightloss stands at 42 kgs lost! Almost a hundred pounds!

Reached another big goal – for the first time ever i weigh less than my boyfriend!

So yeah this is me. Moving on up. Trying to get out of my crisis state. Had a good cry today. And feeling guilty about what I said previously. I was in a dark place and it bothers me now a lot. Especially since I was helped out so much this past week.

But I am keeping those posts as it is a reflection of where i was at the time.

And just part of my journey. Still is. Ongoing.

I am seeing my psychologist again tomorrow. Also going back to work after a week. Very scared. Especially since I have to ask my manager to leave an hour earlier so I can make my appointment.

On another front – at long last I found a protein shake I can stomach!! Soooo a lot of protein for me now and my weightloss has picked up again!

It is Evox 100% pure whey protein shake – cookies and cream flavour.

Ok i have to dash. Get ready for bed and the dreaded return to work where I am so afraid of getting into trouble. Especially since i am in the state i am in.

My feelings currently

My latest rant over at RnY Talk. It captures all i am feeling, so i am publishing it here.

Girls, to be honest i am very worried now about this smoking thing. I smoke. A lot. I stopped for 3 months presurgery and started again about one month post op.

I know it is bad and i understand it is especially bad after this op and why.but here’s the thing. Smoking is all i got.

My life is so terribly terribly shit at work that i feel i am at the brink of a disastrous breakdown. I am doing my all to balance my sanity. Ofcourse you all understand about the stressors and anxiety we have about all kinds of things – including:

• missing comfort from food
• coping without its “help”
• will i succeed
• getting foodstuffs right and ready
• doing research in eating plans and stuff (i am so frustrated cause all the info i get – 65% we dont have in south africa and i just cant seem to manage to get all my protein ;-(((
• trying to amp myself to go gymming and doing exercise. I hate exercise! And i am telling myself i like it and want to do it because it is needed and part of this process – but deep down i still hate it and i want to shout it out so that i can come clean to myself
• i have a lot of debt because of all the costs involved and i cannot seem te get out of it plus my parents are struggling a lot financially and i am so worried about them, they are also quite sickly and i am so afraid one of them might die, i will totally be f*cked of something happened to either if them and i dont know how to make it all better their whole situation and where their desperation is taking them and it breaks me to see them struggling like this they are the best parents in the world and dont deserve this life
• my mental state is up and down a lot and sometimes it gets really bad and i dont know what to do about it – i’m off my meds since surgery and although we have a good bariatric team here i feel the psych part is totally lacking, i saw the psychiatrist but it was a 30 minute or so talk and he was actually yawning (excusing himself for it, but still keeping on) and when i took a huge knock in hospital after my op because the nurses never gave me a substitution for my meds on time (after i had to harass them for it, like it wasnt even important on their notes or whatever) and obviously i was withdrawing he was just never there to check up on me – although his office is around the corner from the hospital – i mean how come?? Shouldnt that be a concern? i mean just one quick check in? especially seeing that i am a “difficult patient” making scenes in the hospital? I was flipping out and telling them something was wrong but noooo. And no use in going to my doctor (the surgeon) as he is just not one of those people that you can go to with your gripes. He is an excellent surgeon and did an excellent job, but there’s not that feeling of connectedness to talk about anything that i am feeling, and my fears and problems i am facing, so that is out. There is just no psych professionals here available to deal with bariatric patients and i feel it is so so so important!
•bloody hairloss and acne
• stressing about my partner and what i am putting him through. He is sticking it out and supports me all the way, but i know he has his own little issues and am i in someway, through all this crap of mine, making him be worse off??
• and the office politics where i am working oh my goodness that is the worst of all of all! I cannot TAKE it anymore, i’m nit even going to begin to talk about it because it upsets me extremely and it is just unbearable and there is actually nowhere to turn
• and what if i get a bloody ulcer from all this smoking????

Cause smoking is all i have now.

My few minutes to escape at the office, my moments of silence when i drag myself away from the kitchen and bad food, my comfort when the stress just gets too much. It is all i have now to cope – and gasp horror what will happen if i take that away from myself??

So it is not just to quiet for me. What if taking it away is the straw that breaks this camel’s back?? I am scared.

Beginning the next adventure

So I made an appointment to go see my local gym tonight. At long last, I am doing this!

Need this if i am to reach my mini-goal by christmas (lose 16 kg – 35 pounds).

Because then – i would be below 100kg! The lightest I’ve been since high school 12 years ago!

Yay me!

Bit scared though, what if I fail like all the times before? A gym reeks of failure to me. Hope I can change it around this time.

4 months post op

Oh man! Life is running away with me!

So what is up at 4 months post op for Obeasta?

I have lost 34 kg (75 pounds) so far.

My exercise is not nearly what it should be (non-existent) but I am working on it. Going to join a gym.

My hair is falling out ;-(

I have a lot of hair, so it is not a train smash.

What is much worse is that i have terrible adult acne! Started getting bad about a month ago. Really bad. At my wits’ end as what to do about this.

Anyone else had this problem?

Feeling so good otherwise! Much more healthy and no big eating struggles any more. Eating quite little and sometimes i really miss having a big hearty meal.

I was much more of an emotional eater than i have ever imagined.

But i am getting through this easily enough.

Sometimes i can get really down, but i think it has more to do with my work situation where i am extremely unhappy.

Anyhoo, that is me 😉

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.


how does it feel????



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.