Waxing Philosophical

I was noticing the other day that since I made the decision to have the VSG surgery I have a whole new awareness of my size and those of the people around me.  The only thing I can think of is that before I just buried my head in the sand and refused to acknowledge how far I’ve fallen.  But now?  I SEE my hugeness… and my rolls… and my pain.

Can I also tell you that I’m astounded by the number of different sizes I have in my dresser, closet and in storage tubs (just in case, right?) I am currently a size 22/24 and I found a tub with size 16 in them.  Really?!?  Who am I kidding?  Without surgery I will never see that size again.  Even with surgery it might not be possible.  I have, after all, had 6 children since I wore those clothes.

I often have to choose clothes for each day depending on how bloated I am!  I never know what’s going to fit from one day to the next.  I’m pretty sure surgery isn’t going to make that go away.  As a women I have changes in my weight and bloating depending on things as simple as the weather or if I get enough sleep.  BUT because I have the added burden of weight I have, not just the discomfort of bloating and shifting scale numbers, but the discomfort of swollen joints, clogged internal organs, and simply… weight!  The fat is a huge weight!!  Its stifling!  But only when I am strong enough to see it…

These days I am spending a lot of time trying to find myself inside all the fat.  In my delusional mind I am still about 175 lbs and quite good looking. I have a pretty good physique and I’m strong. My  clothes fit me well and look good on me.  I see other fat women and think, “naw, I’m not that big!”…. and then I’m ALWAYS shocked when I see my reflection.  Wait a minute!  Where did that ginormous roll of fat on my belly come from? My pants waistband rolls down?!? What?!  Where are my biceps??  Someone stole my muscle definition last night while I was sleeping!  No, sorry love, you’ve been slowly becoming this physical manifestation for 22 years now.  It hurts, you know?  It’s not just physical, the pain of being fat, it’s mental as well.

This is the game I play with myself each morning; I tell myself, “I feel fine and I look okay, maybe even pretty good!” My logic justifies these thoughts because my husband never complains (he never would, you know, he’s the best man, ever!)  “How can I be 281!  The scale must be broken and what’s up with the clothing industry changing up the sizing now-a-days?! ” AND I go on with life..  I decided I don’t dwell on these things overly much but I’ve noticed these thoughts in passing and, on my lucid days, wonder what the heck happened to my sanity.

Love and God’s blessings,
Sarah

 

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