I'm on the drugs, I'm on the drugs...

"You take the blue pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill - you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes."

Red pill. I've definitely taken the red pill. It was an impulse decision, thinking I could handle where the rabbit hole takes me. I don't have any second thoughts but oh boy I can fantasize about what it would be like to take that blue pill. This rabbit hole is filled with demons of my own making and perhaps plenty of others that I allowed others to out there as well. My psychologist got me to take a test to measure levels of depression, anxiety and stress. I managed to get a pretty decent score for the depression and stress so, after consulting my my regular GP I am finally on anti-depressants. I probably should have started them about twelve years ago but I've started now. I don't feel any different as yet (I was told I won't notice anything for a few weeks) but I am experiencing the worst dry mouth I've ever had. Feels like all the moisture in my mouth has been evaporated and it doesn't matter how much I drink, nothing makes it go away.

I realize the majority of the things I've been talking about lately have nothing really to do with weight loss - directly. Honestly though, how important is it to deal with all the indirect factors first. its something I've never done before. Normally its just a decision to diet and exercise. A battle to start, the first weigh loss to keep me going then a bad day to screw it and go back to before. My eating has been ok. I haven't had any take-out in well over a week. It's easier when my husband is home. It means I have to cook and I can't skip meals. Although I am still struggling to get up early enough to eat breakfast. 7am isn't the best time of day for me. I hate you morning people. 

Lost in Wonderland, The Fat Lady.

Overshare

Ew. Gross.

Sorry but I'm going to over share a little bit today. I'm going to talk about the little things that frustrate the hell out of overweight and obese women but no-one talks about them. The things that you wouldn't even think about or take for granted that anyone would be able to do without a problem.

1. Wiping your arse.
Yeah gross, jumping right in there. Seriously at my heaviest this was an issue. I was eating heaps so I had to 'go' a few times a day and the whole process was like in impossible aerobics exercise. Hold breath, suck in tummy, twist, lean to the left, sit forward, stretch right arm, success. Repeat process until clean.I knew if I got any heavier I would have to shower after each toilet break and I REFUSED to let that happen. Shed a few kilos and everything was peachy again.

2. Inserting a tampon.
Might as well start of with the gross stuff - it will get less disturbing as I go along. Another aerobic exercise. I carry a lot of my weight in my stomach. therefore I have to reach OVER my stomach and try and get everything in the right position while squatting (or on the toilet). If I don't stretch and move exactly right, I can never get it to sit right. Not comfortable. Not practical. you bet I'm already letting the PMS fly so this just makes me more of a bitch on sore and swollen feet.

3. Sex.
There's just things my chunky booty can't do. Positions I can't move into. Sometimes there's just too much extra me around my own legs and stomach. Doesn't stop me doing anything and we have had to be inventive sometimes but, there's always things I'd like to try or things I know I'd enjoy more is there was simply less of my body in the freaking way!

4. Crossing my legs.
something so simple. So femine. This is ANOTHER aerobic excersise. Sit up straight, relax left leg, suck in stomach, move left ankle to the right, lift right leg over left leg, try not to let it slip, clench legs together, engage core to help, hold breath. continue clenching everything while taking shallow breaths. It's just not worth it. It's not comfortable. Instead I get to look butch and sit with my legs apart. Yay. No I can't just cross my ankles instead because my legs are big all over. My knees are hidden somewhere but there's about 4cm of lard on each leg on either side of it. That gets bigger the further up my legs you inspect. Squeeze knees together - max effort to compress fat on thighs. It's pretty solid stuff - it doesn't appreciate being squished and moved like that.

5. Having a bath.
I'm a huge fan of drawing up a nice relaxing bath. Candles, bubble bath, wine and a book. Love it, love it, love it. However it's not as much fun as it used to be when you fill up the whole bath. I can never fully emerge myself in the water, boobs and belly tend to always get some surface air. I can actually pull the plug and stay sitting and the water behind my back doesn't move. I'm like a giant fleshy dam for my bath water. Don't get me started on the effort it takes so slush around in the water to get my hands on that stupid little plug and pull it out. Heave and reach, missed, let water stop splashing and try again. Heave, reach, grab hold, lose grip, swear, run more hot water and stay in bath for another 30 min then try again.

6. Getting in a small car.
So a lot of my friends have small cars. It doesn't matter if I'm in the passenger's seat or in the back - I seem to overflow. It's not the sitting that's really the problem. There is no way to get in or out gracefully. Everything ends scrunched up, awkward and uncomfortable. Oh I long for the opportunity to slide lovely legs out and emerge like a celebrity at the Oscars.

7. Sitting in a booth.
No booth is shaped correctly for any person with excess arse. It's the most uncomfortable thing to sit in. Twice as hard when you are short and can't push yourself back up with your legs.

You're welcome to add to the list........
I think I'll be fantisising about a visit from the fat fairy tonight. One of these days I'm sure I'll wake up 65kgs (143lb) lighter.

Peace. Dreaming away, Fat Lady.

TherApy

So as a part of the process of finding out if I am a candidate for bariatric surgery, I have made an appointment with a psychologist. If that's not daunting then I don't know what is. What to do? What to do?.....

Do I brush over the questions that I refuse to answer myself? A great example being "Are you depressed?" to which I answer "No." Nothing more, don't need to elaborate - that's when you get caught LYING.
or
Do I be completely and brutally honest? Lay all my demons out and let the therapist make sense of it all. This is frightening and enticing at the same time.
The appointment with the surgeon went well, and I'm booked in to see a dietitian and physiologist. I haven't committed to anything yet but I want to pursue this possibility. I have opted for Gastric Bypass as the surgery option due to where I live and from the surgeon's recommendations. This reads like I have made my decision doesn't it? Mmmmmm. Maybe. Possibly. Likely. Not sure.
I'm not worried about the surgery. I'm not worries about the diet and fitness changes. I've acutally made a goal to do a fun run at the end of the year if I go through with all this. The physiologist thinks I could run by then without an issue (this I find hard to imagine, its a challenge to RUN to the toilet when emergency strikes and that's when you NEED to be able to run!)
BUT
The psychologist scares the hell out of me. Not him as a person, more how I am going to cope with unveiling all this crap in my head that has been on blend mode since I hit puberty. That was 14 years ago.
My mind is like the TV show Hoarders: Buried Alive - Its such a mess even I don't know where to start to clean in up. Its too stressful to try. So I settle and accept that this is how it is while hating every minute of it. Now it's time to call the professional cleaners and originators in to clean it up. I'll always remember that it was such a mess, but once its clean and spacious, life will be different in ways I can't imagine.
Or something like that.

Fire away Freud.

Hope your couch isn't vinyl - Fat Lady.

Options

It's only Wednesday.
How. Utterly. Depressing.
What a scandalous, vicious, depressing, misguided, drama filled, exhausting, emotional, draining week it has been so far.
Over it. Over it. Over it.
I spent the majority of the night trying to control my hysterical crying so I didn't start hyperventilating, while I was trying to control this I had some pretty dark thoughts wander through my mind. They are currently making themselves at home, settling in for a long stay. These guys really work well with the Fat Lady. They're like an obese couple stuck in their recliner lounge chairs, surrounded by food, watching reality TV and judging and criticizing everything (because they are experts of course). A happy, healthy and fit version of me is wandering around the room like a neglected child. It's just not strong enough to stand up to the others, but continues trying subtly to improve life as she knows it. Sometimes the obese couple manage to remove themselves from the TV and disappear for a while, then thechild gets to sneak control of the TV remote for a while......... but the others aren't far behind.

I didn't get to where I am by food magically slipping into my mouth with no control. Somewhere along the line I let the negative take hold and overpower the positive.

So what are my options? I'm not stupid. I know I am the one holding myself back from getting healthy. I know the last time I lost 25kgs I felt awesome. I was happy, rarely negative. The diet was restrictive and when I re-introducted other foods I put the weight back on plus more.
Its a vicious circle. I struggle to stay positive and upbeat, I eat. If I restrict myself to a diet and commit to it, it works for a while and when I slip, even the smallest amount, negativity takes over again and I fail completely.

Perhaps it's time to look at other options that are out there. I've booked in to see a bariatric surgeon. Maybe gastric bypass surgery is an option to explore. It can't hurt to see what else I can do. What I am doing isn't enough and I can't do it alone. That much is clear.

Until the next drama, 
Contemplative Fat Lady

Yeah, I'm Healthy - Just Fat!

A while ago I went to the doctor we had a little discussion about my health. The general consensus was that I'm within the healthy range, just morbidly obese. Off I went home skipping because the doctor said I was healthy. See - even the doctor says I'm healthy - just fat!
Now it's got me thinking, how can I believe this myself when I KNOW I may have neglected to divulge some critical information to the kind doctor.

These are the things I know.
My resting heart rate is way too high.
I always suffer from lower back pain.
My whole back is so tender, if someone pokes me I may cry.
My knees always click and crack (left one especially).
I get out of breath very easily.
I have severely painful menstrual cramps.
Bleeding after sex is not uncommon.
My body fat content is something ridiculous like 54.1%
I am worried about my fertility.
I sometimes get so worked up I become hysterical.
My moods swing quickly and severely while I portray a happy confident exterior.

Wow that was so honest it hurts a little bit. That really isn't the most optimistic list I've ever written. Basically I have concluded that to think that I was 'healthy' for the last, um, well, forever really - is delusional. I'm not healthy. Clearly. Body or Mind. Perhaps it's time to get them both sorted out together. If we can work together to kill the Fat Lady in my head first. Her physical manifestation that surrounds my true slim and athletic (keeping that delusion) form will slowly and surely cease to exist.

It's one thing to type it and not think about who is reading it and another to actually speak of it. That list isn't getting any shorter.........

Later. Fat, Frumpy yet Wise Lady.