Wednesday, March 24, 2010

So I have apparently pooped out all of the rainbows and sunshine that followed this surgery and now all I am left with is a stinking pile of dung. This “liquid diet” thing sucks. Big time. It’s like a bee sting on your ass when you are in the middle of nowhere and there are only strangers around when you need someone to slap mud on it to draw out the stinger. Yeah, it sucks that bad. The surgery itself - fantastic. The immense weight loss - BONUS! Not being able to eat - Sucky McSuckass. I am at the point where I don’t even want to hear how it will get better or how it will all be worth it. It’s like telling a club hopping drunk who has just left rehab that it will be the bees knees to always be the designated driver. Bullshit.

I will admit I have had a couple “what was I thinking” days. What have I gotten myself into? This isn’t a haircolor I can wash out. This. Is. It. I can’t undo it or change my mind just so I can fill an urge. I can’t wake up one day and say I am going to have a “cheater” day and go out for burgers. This is the real deal. This is food rehab and I am detoxing like a mother fu**er. I lie in bed sometimes CRAVING food that doesn’t come in a bottle and I feel physically ill. And I cry. And I hate myself for having to take such extreme measures. I am overwhelmed and I never anticipated it would be this bad. But it has confirmed that I am, in fact, a food addict. It shames me to even say it out loud. There have even been occasions where I was willing to undergo “dumping syndrome” and deal with the consequences just so I could have some chips or some SOLID FOOD!!!!! I know this won’t last forever. I am not an unintelligent person. I GET that in time things will go back to normal and I will learn to deal with food in moderation, but right now, that day seems unreachable. I keep thinking if I can just get to next week when I can have eggs and tuna again, it will hold me over for awhile until I can move to soft foods. But even that will get old after a week.

If I lived alone, this might be easier. I wouldn’t have to cook meals for my family that I can’t eat and be within inches of the taunting smells of normalcy. I wouldn’t resent my husband and want to punch him in the face everytime he scarfs down two plates full of food at dinner and a late night snack and never gains a pound. They told us before surgery that we will grieve food and it will greatly resemble the Five Stages of Grief. And I remember thinking…um, ok, that’s just pathetic. It’s just food. Well guess what? Color me pathetic, because I am grieving the loss of food. When reading on the five stages of grief it is defined as such:

The grief that follows such a loss can seem unbearable, but grief is actually a healing process. Grief is the emotional suffering we feel after a loss of some kind. The death of a loved one, loss of a limb, even intense disappointment can cause grief.

If that isn’t a feeling I am experiencing, then I am at a loss for any other word to describe it. You don’t think it’s possible to feel something as immense as grief over food, but I let me be the first to tell you, it’s real and true and painful. Find something you love more than anything (in non-human form of course) and just STOP doing it for a week. It sounds easier than it is.

It is said that the first stage of grief is Denial and Isolation. At first, we tend to deny the loss has taken place, and may withdraw from our social contacts. This stage may last a few moments or longer. I’m gonna place my bids on LONGER, thank you very much.

I already find myself wanting to isolate myself from social situations because I feel like everytime someone sees me they are going to expect these extraordinary results. I fear feeling overwhelmed and left out of situations where food and alcohol are involved. I don’t want to be resented for stealing the limelight when other things are going on because people are so curious about how things are going. I want to go into hiding like an ousted constestant from the Biggest Loser and not come out until there is flattering lighting, a makeup artist, a hairstylist and I have lost all my weight.

I deny to myself that I really feel this bad. I mean, no one can be this upset over food, can they? I deny that I am over obsessing about calories and exercise already because I just want to lose this weight already!! I deny my ability to manage my food and my weight once I reach my goal weight and can enter the land of the living again. I find comfort and safety in the borders of this first year because the rules and the lines are very clearly defined by my doctor and the plan I am on. After that, I have to figure out a lifestyle that works for me and we have all seen how well that has worked in the past.

I paddle frantically down this River of de-Nile looking for life, looking for support, hell even looking for a rock to crash into so I can stop paddling and just take a look around. I just need one minute to stop and appreciate the beauty behind what I have done for myself. I need a moment to stop self sabotaging and start loving myself again (if I ever really knew how). Maybe spending all this time harping on these things is helping me realize the issue, deal with the issue and find a solution. Only the last 4 stages of grief will determine that.

So, as my first step, I say to the world….

Hello, my name is Lisa and I am a food addict.

*HI LISA!!!!*

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