Sitting here thinking about the upcoming surgery and getting nervous so I've decided to write it out, get it off my chest.
I'm in this weird place between being excited and being sick to my stomach with worry of the unknown.
I've struggled with weight for so long I don't even remember a time in my adult life when it wasn't an issue. I've always been about 30 pounds overweight, fluctuating with whatever torture of a diet I was on. I overeat to help deal with anxiety. Anxiety is an issue with everyone in my family. I feel like I cannot escape it, though I can hide it very well. My counselor says I am a high functioning agoraphobic. There was about a year where I didn't leave home except to the store, and even that was a huge issue for me. I lost my job, I got fired because of missing so many days. Some days I would call in sick from the parking lot because I just couldn't face going inside. Slowly I got back to where I could function on a normal routine, and I went back to work. Then I met my future husband, on eharmony of all places I weighed 135 pounds. We moved in together and got engaged. He has three kids so I inherited a large family all at once. At first, this was really stressful for me. They are all very loud and boisterous whereas I am the type of person who hates to have the TV on in the background. Anxiety started to creep back in and I ate more to deal with it. By the time we were getting married two years later, I was up to 155 pounds. As a wedding present my husband told me I could have anything I wanted (thinking I would say a new car) I wanted a tummy tuck. Afterwards, I felt great. I was still overweight but I had a flat stomach and it made everything I wore look better on me. I used to be so self concious of my pooch I would always wear bulkier clothes to hide it. I also loved being married. Two yrs after that, my company closed. My husband makes really good money and he was happy for me to stay home and take care of our busy home life. I thought I would be too. Six months in, I was miserable. I felt worthless, and my anxiety started coming back. I started to be afraid of more things. Then my aunt, my favorite, my godmother, the person I wanted to be just like my whole life was diagnosed with cancer. It only took six months before cancer ripped her away from us, and we were helpless to stop it. She died in horrible pain, a shell of the vibrant women who lit up the room when she walked in it. After that my anxiety became focused within. I used to be afraid of of things like the building collapsing, a stranger breaking in and stabbing me to death, getting in a car accident, things like that. Now I constantly scanned my body. Any tiny discomfort became a sign that I was going to die. Also I was home all the time so I would make huge meals and comfort myself with food that was terrible for me. I'm Sicilian, so bread and pasta and cheese became my best friends. My flat stomach has slowly started to protrude again, My current weight is 200 pounds. I cannot stand how I look. I don't go out with my friends because I'm always the fat one. My clothes look bad on me, I stay in sweats mostly now. I cringe at being in pictures, every time I see a photo of my full body I am just horrified that is how people see me. Im scared because I am starting to have real health problems. High blood pressure. Ive always had body aches because I am a DDD bra size but now I have to use aleve a lot to deal with aches, not just my back and shoulders but my knees, my ankles. I am sick of being this way.
I also have hypoglycemia, and if you have ever felt the jitters from a low blood sugar episode, it feels a lot like the beginning of an anxiety/panic attack. Most of the time my low blood sugar spells came when I was dieting. I would feel sick, panic, overeat, blow my diet, feel terrible, and give up. Then I would get disgusted with myself and go back to the diet with a vengence and repeat the cycle all over again. Im just ready for a change. Of course for someone with severe anxiety, going to a foreign country for a life altering surgery is no picnic. But after reading many of the stories of women who have done the same thing, I feel a growing admiration. It takes courage to do this, and I have decided to be courageous and brave - like them.