Motivation

It's late, but I've been trying to get this post up for a few days now. I have all these thoughts swirling around in my head, and just can't seem to articulate them very well. This is actually the third post on the topic that I've written, so please know that I approach this subject with a great deal of caution.

Now that I've started my post with such loaded words, can you guess what it's about? It'll probably be anti-climatic!

Mostly it's about having surgery done to augment losing weight.

(See? I told you it'd be anti-climatic!)

I have a cousin who had the stomach stitching done, which is pretty scary stuff. There's a 10% fatality rate with that one, and to ME it doesn't warrant the surgery being done, but I have also not lived my entire life overweight, nor do I have 100+ lb's to lose. I really can't judge.

Recently I've learned about this surgery that involves putting a saline belt around your internal organs, specifically around your stomach, so that it compresses it and you can only eat smaller amounts of food at a time. It's much safer, can be inflated or deflated as desired, doesn't have to be permanent, all these good things going for it. Well, except for the cost, of course.

I know someone having this surgery done, and I'm not going to judge. Again, I am not them, I have walked in their shoes, and I can't pretend I'm better at making decisions for them than they are.

I do have a lot of feelings surrounding the surgery, though. That's what has been swirling through my head of late.

I'll be honest here. The first thought that popped into my head when I heard about it was jealousy.

No, I wouldn't have the surgery done. But I'm jealous that they no longer have to deal with wanting more food, and needing to use so much self control to not eat more. I'm jealous that they don't have to fight for their body and their weight loss. I'm jealous that they don't have to worry so much about reverting to old habits. Yes, I'm jealous.

Have you ever wished that you'd all of a sudden become allergic to your favourite foods? That some doctor, or someone with authority, would tell you that you'll die if you eat it, just so that you had something to REALLY shock you into making the life change that you've been meaning to make but have never got around to?

I feel like the surgery is like that. I wish I hated chocolate and sweets, and that it wasn't a temptation for me. That my body would reject it, or SOMEthing to keep me from eating so much of it. In short, I want all the benefits of a healthy lifestyle without any of the work involved. I feel like the surgery is skipping the self-control and work steps. I know that having a surgery is not easy, but I can't help but feel that it's the easy way out.

That smells strongly of judging. Perhaps 'easy way out' is the wrong way of putting it. Portion control would undoubtedly be easier to someone who has had this surgery than someone who has not, though, wouldn't you agree?

So there. That's one feeling surrounding it.

And the other feeling is going to make me sound like a jerk when I don't mean for it to.

Basically I feel panicked, that my friends all around me are going to get thin and I'm going to be left in the dust as the fat friend. That's a scary thought. I don't want to be the fat friend.

I've often wondered what would be harder - growing up overweight and struggling with it your whole life, or growing up thin, like a little stringbean that never had to worry about weight or body image, and then all of a sudden, as an adult you gain a lot of weight and have to deal with self-image issues as a result.

I fall into the second category, as is evidenced by how many words I used to describe that state of being as compared to the first case, which I really can't write much about because I didn't experience it (notice how I'm rambling? I should be in bed.)

Growing up, I was the thinnest of my friends. Then in highschool, I was about equal with a few friends. But it probably doesn't come as a surprise that I LIKED it. Much as my one friend secretly liked being short because it made her cute, I liked being thin because it made me attractive and desirable. I totally flaunted my body, I'll admit. I should have known it'd come back to bite me!

[caption id="attachment_1444" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Seriously, how cute was I? Granted, I was 17, and you'll never be as small as you were in high-school. Nor would I want to be (for the record.)"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1445" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="But I also don't want to be this me again. I don't remember my face looking so pudgy...this picture is from almost 5 years ago. I fear that me."][/caption]

So there's the old me that was thin and loved it but did nothing for it, and then there's the 5-years older me, that didn't do anything for her weight either.

I was browsing pinterest the other day, and I read something that really struck me. It was so simple, just a plaque saying that we earn our bodies. How true is that, though? Okay, maybe it was not true when I was a teenager. Teens just have the advantage of youth on their sides, which makes up for how funny-looking they are otherwise.

As adults we come into our own, and the majority of us have to decide what kind of body we are going to have. If I'm going to do nothing about my weight, then that is MY choice, and no-one but me is determining my looks. If I'm pudgy, then I've earned it. I have my reward for eating all the sweets I want and not trying to portion control. If I'm thin then I've definitely earned that too.

So anyway, big tangent there.

But yeah, I'm afraid. I have a good friend who went through a divorce a few years back. She was rather insecure about her weight, probably partly because her ex at one point told her that he didn't like how she'd let herself go and got fat (up to 160 lb's. I seriously want to punch this guy sometimes.) She's worked her butt off and is now completely smoking. I see her when I go out with her and my other friend who has a 7-month old daughter, and she tells us candidly that she puts on her best clothes and does her make-up perfectly for when she goes out with us, because she figures that if we're going to be happily married and have cute babies, then she at least can have the one-up on us by having a smoking hot body. I love it, and I love her. And she totally succeeds.

The other friend I mentioned (with the 7-month-old baby) was overweight her whole life, then did this weight-loss regime and became this teeny little thing. Then she got married, had a baby, and is now working off the weight. She'll do it too, she's very determined, and I have no doubt that by the summer she'll reach her goal and be all svelte again. I don't begrudge her her success, but I do envy her determination.

Another friend of mine did this Japanese thing that talks about eating according to what parts of your body are ailing you (totally butchering this description...) She learned that she needs to cut out starch, and to me it sounds like a fancy way of saying "Atkins diet" but it's had success and now she's down 20lb's.

And now this friend with the surgery. I know that it'll be successful, with a surgery like that you can't help but see results, and quickly too! I'm happy for my friend. I truly am. I'm really (REALLY!) curious to see what she'll look like thinner. I've never seen her thin (heck, SHE'S never seen her thin) and that kind of change fascinates me. I fully support her doing it, and I'm excited for her.

Part of me feels a little abandoned though. We were both trying to lose weight, get more active, and although we weren't doing it together, in my mind, there was someone close to me who was working towards the same goal the same way I was. Now I feel a bit like she has skipped ahead of me, to a point where I'll always be in the dust behind her.

All of my girlfriends are now thin or are on the path to thinness, and I really do think they'll succeed.

Which, I admit, leaves me with the previously stated feeling of panic, at the thought of becoming the friend with lifelong weight and self-esteem issues.

I suddenly feel like I have GOT to lose weight. I've just got to.

My no-sweets thing? Still going strong. Want to know why?

Because every time I consider caving, my mind involuntarily thinks, "No! I WON'T be the fat one!"

I hate the word "fat" for the record. It sounds so rude to me, but I don't know how else to word it.

Either way, though, I want to walk with more confidence and be comfortable in my skin. I want to pack away the maternity clothes, and wear something that makes me look fantastic.

Actually, I took Josey up on her advice and went shopping with my two girlfriends (Baby-Friend and Smoking-Hot-Friend) who are my fashion guide. I'm really terrible at fashion, and if left to my own devices, I'd probably live out my days in cardigans or yoga pants, maybe even at the same time. Anyway, I bought a pencil-skirt, a pair of pants that don't button up (or rather, they barely do, but I don't button them because it hurts. BUT they fit awesome everywhere else, so they're my motivation jeans...) and a couple tops. I feel great in this outfit. I love it, and I want more, but I won't allow myself more until I lose more weight.

Oh! This morning when I weighed myself I weighed 165. WOO!

And now I'm so tired that I'm starting to spout off random things. Please forgive the major lack of proof-reading going on in my post today. I mean, I often forget to proofread, but today I'm choosing sleep over proofreading. Such is life sometimes.