MelRose

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It's been four years since I decided that the only way I could possibly finally win this lifelong battle with my weight was to allow a surgeon to open me up and remove most of my stomach. Drastic?  Uh...yeah.  My last resort? So I thought.  The answer to my problems?  Not even close.

In a nutshell, here it is:

• I am failing miserably. *Daily*
• I know what’s causing the downfall, but I have no idea why I am doing this to myself. 
• I am so sick of myself that I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hear any of this.

However, I am even more sick of the constant merrygoround in my head, and since I really have no one else to talk to about this, I’m posting it here.  Beware…it’s long, maudlin, self-indulgent and whiny.  Proceed at your own peril.

On October 11, 2005, I did the craziest thing I thought I would ever do and went under the knife.  My Multiple Sclerosis pretty much dictated the surgery I would have…no foreign bodies to inspire an immune response, and no rerouting of innards to potentially screw with the meds I might have to take for future flares.   I had all of the best intentions. I passed my psych eval with flying colors because I *knew* that this was it.  I was no longer going to even have the slightest inclination towards my previous self-defeating attitudes.  How on earth could I?  Even if I wanted to, I would only have a 2 ounce tummy.  How much damage could I possibly do even if I did go back to eating carbs or drinking alcohol?  I mean...come on!  It would take some serious effort to undo what Dr. Cirangle did.  How f*cked up would I have to be to do something this dramatic and then deliberately screw it up??

Pretty f*cked up, as it turned out.  On September 28, 2005, I was 279 lbs.  I lost 13 lbs pre-surgery, and then On January 12, 2007, I hit my goal of 159 lbs.  (For all of about 36 hours, as it tuned out...those last 3 lbs were primarily due to the stomach flue I had that kept me puking my guts out for three days.)  But still-- 120 lbs in 15.5 months.  It was surreal and wacky and as I look back on that period now...a total blur.  Then, I got engaged.  Wedding planning brought out the stress snacking tendencies that I had squelched pretty successfully for the previous few months (For the first year or so, I couldn't even dream of snacking..it was enough of a chore to get in all of my protein and fluids.)  But it was my wedding!  Of course I was stressed out…even though were planning a small, non-traditional event.  So I put back about 12 lbs before the wedding.  No real worries, right? 12 lbs out of 120??  10 lousy percent?  No problem!  Turns out, it was a major problem, because what it did was allow me to dip back into that mind set of ignoring the tiny slips.  And the "slippery slope" that we've all heard so much about began to erode underneath me.  Every time something happened (and with the exception of our wedding, 2007 was chock full of sad happenings), that slope became slicker and slicker.

3 months after the wedding, the store I worked in closed and I was unemployed.  Since that job had been merely a stop gap anyway as I tried to figure out what I really wanted to be doing, I decided that I would take the time to really focus on figuring out what I wanted to be doing instead of just going out and getting another job.  I was lucky...my husband was earning enough that we could get by on his paycheck alone for a few months while I sorted through it.  Alas, amidst all of the other wacky things that happened that year,  the other thing that occurred right then was the re-occurrence of a nasty little health issue I've been battling off and on for many years: Hidradenitis suppurativa.  If you've never experienced it, thank your lucky stars.  Because H.S. is incredibly painful and embarrassing...it's makes it really difficult to sit, much less walk or do any kind of exercise that involves moving your legs.  (Much less have sex with your new husband.)  SO-- there I was, unemployed and unmoving and frustrated in many ways.  So guess what I was doing?  Sitting/lying down.  Bored.  Eating.  Yeah. 

By March 2008, I had put back a total of about 40 lbs.  But then I finally found a job that I thought would be a FAR better fit for me.  Used my education and skills and had something at least vaguely do with my musical background.  And we decided that it was as good a time as any to stop throwing our money away on rent and buy a house.    So-- I started a new job and we bought our first house and moved all within about 6 weeks of each other.  Exciting, right?  You betcha!  Except that exciting things are stressful, too.  Especially when you're only working 25 hours a week so most of the logistical planning of the move falls on you.  Plus exciting things give you just as much of an excuse to eat (this time more for celebratory purposes) as the boring stuff does.   Yet still, even though I was concerned about the weight gain, it wasn't a HUGE problem...I had lost 120 lbs, man...40 was not any where NEAR as big a deal.  (Amazing how we can delude ourselves when we put our formidable talent for it in the limelight.)

Fast forward to a year later:  A year of working in a place with bakeries on either end of my commute that I am somehow unable to pass by without stopping, and what has now become nearly 16 months of constant problems with H.S. meant that I was 225 lbs and a tight size 14/16.  My exercise schedule was nonexistent except for the walk to and from the train and home/job, and the great new job that I thought would be so much better than anything else I'd ever done?  Pretty disastrous.  At the end of the day, my sexy title of Asst. Director of a Community Music Center boiled down to counting other people’s money: collecting tuition from students and paying wages to teachers.  There was very little about it that took advantage of any of my so called skills and the organization I worked for was in a state of nearly complete disarray.  So I quit in April 2009.  And I've been unemployed AGAIN since then.  Back to being bored and isolated.  Back to being an emotional eater.  Back to feeling frustrated and non-contributory and a complete leech on the goodwill of my husband.  And still hurting in unmentionable places that make it nearly impossible to lead any kind of normal life without a pretty major surgical procedure that holds no hope of any permanent fix...just a stopgap to- hopefully- get a break for a few months before it comes back.   Plus we got a puppy in June…a wonderfully sweet but rambunctious little creature named Zumi…a Bullmastiff who is already 67 lbs and isn’t even 6 months old yet.  I’ve been a full time puppy mom to her for the last three months, which – while often fun – really just serves to isolate me that much more since I can’t leave her at home alone unless she’s crated which means 2 hours max before she gets all rowdy and ready to run around…which I can’t do with her since both the Multiple Sclerosis and the H.S. (not to mention the extra weight) make running nearly impossible.  SO where do I find myself now…October 11, 2009?  245 lbs.  A size 18.  Basically back to where I started. And crying as I write that, because despite the novella of excuses I listed above, I have no one or nothing to blame for this situation but myself.

 

Ultimately, I know exactly how to fix it.  I know all the ways and means.  But I guess there must be some self-destructive or self-loathing part of me that would just rather be fat and a failure than risk success.  Because if I defeat myself before some outside force can do it, then I know what to expect.  And what the hell happens if I succeed?  What else will be expected of me?  And what the hell right do I have to complain about ANYTHING when I have an amazingly patient and loving husband, a family who loves me unconditionally, a sweet little house in a great neighborhood and a puppy who just wants to wiggle and smooch everybody she meets?  The fact of the matter is that I simply have no faith in myself anymore.  I don’t believe any of the promises I make to myself.  I don’t trust any of the pledges I make to change. 

 

Now you all know why I’m so seldom here.  I hate bitching, but if I’m honest, I can’t say anything positive about my wls journey of late.  And since I don’t feel like there is any wisdom I can give those who have traveled this road after me –unless it’s the example I can provide of how NOT to travel it— I’m not sure what purpose it serves to come here and be a total downer.  I find myself in dire need of help, but completely unwilling to accept it.

 

Again, I ask you…how f*cked up is that???

...of myself.

I wrote this post on the VSG board after many months of absence.  It was inspired by a lot of things.  I actually wrote an update to this blog on Aug. 20 that I decided to let sit and percolate a few days before I posted.  And man-- I went back and read it a few days later and realized that these were the words of a woman who had reached the bottom of a very deep hole.  I won't post it here now, because it no longer reflects my state of mind.  but I will show you my latest post that reading my own words inspired and let it speak for itself:

It has been so very long since i was an active participant on these boards, but I do hope you will forgive me for interjecting so randomly after such an egregious lack of attention.
For those of you whom I don't know and who don't know me:  Hi.    I'm Melissa.  I'll be two years out from a VSG with Dr. Cirangle at LapSF in October.

As of Jan. of this year, I was--albeit briefly-- at goal.  159 (down from 279) and in a fairly reliable size 8 (down from a 22/24).  And then...oh boy....and then:

On the good side:  I got married! (See pics on my profile if you are so inclined). I had a fabulous honeymoon in Canada with my amazing new hubby.   Gael made me the coolest tapestry known to human kind as a wedding present and several of you contributed to it and it made me all weepy. :)  Then I finally got to meet Nano, Marie and Saucy Vee in person a few weeks later.  It was all very lovely.

On the not so good side: My maternal grandmother died in February; two dear old friends  (who are blissfully pregnant in my wedding pics) lost their babies in heartwrenching late term still births this summer; another good friend lost a really ugly battle with lung/brain cancer in July; our dear sweet little dog died very unexpectedly from congestive heart failure in August;  my paternal grandfather died a week later after three years of steady degeneration from emphysema, chronic bronchits, COPD and a host of other lung and heart related ailments in August (the aftermath of which put my dad through some of the most unbelievable family drama I've ever witnessed,); my husband quit/sort of got laid off from his heinously dysfunctional job (not unexpectedly and quite welcome-ly, actually, but they really jerked him around); and my sweet friend Susan (another LapSF VSG-er) ended up having to close her store, in which I worked, and declare bankruptcy due in large part to a really vicious lawsuit that ate up all of her time, energy and capital.  I am so sad for her because she really put all of herself into that place.  And now my husband and I are both unemployed at the same time.  All in all-- it has been a heart-breaker of a year thus far and I have found myself in nearly constant states of stress, sorrow, or fearful transition.

And man, did I find ways to circumvent my tool to mourn it all "old-school."  We VSG-ers may not be able to eat much, but we can a.) make bad choices and b.) snack away those calories without even paying attention.  Within 6 months,  I regained 18 pounds.  I'm sure you can all appreciate the sheer terror I was feeling when I saw the beast re-emerge.  This is why I cringe whenever I read "such-and-such pounds, gone for good!"  DOn't count on it.  Not unless you really and truly address the underlying causes for your obesity.  Most of us aren't overweight because we just ate too much, so simply limiting the capacity doesn't undo our ability for self-sabotage.   We have been engaged in psychological warfare with ourselves and our bodies for many years, and those battles still rage.  Even though I had all of the percentages down intellectually (90% tool/10% me becomes 10% tool/90% me) I just wasn't prepared to deal when the sh*t came down.

But a couple of weeks ago, I was doing some research that led me to something that almost instantly stopped my precipitous decline.  It's called EFT - Emotional Freedom Technique - and it is a really mind-blowing therapeutic tool.  It comes across as very woo-woo and California, I know.  (Hey-- I do live in Berkeley, afer all! ) But it has been a tremendous boon for me and has, in no uncertain terms, changed my whole perspective.   I'm not going to go too far into it here.  Let me just point you all to these web pages and encourage anyone who is still battling their demons to do some careful reading and research.

This is the guy who started it all, so I suggest you start here and watch the video:
http://www.emofree.com/

Then, download and read the free manual he has put together.  It's 80 pages long, so be prepared.  But it is a real eye-opener and will teach you just about everything you need to know:
http://www.emofree.com/LearnEFT.htm

Finally, start reading some of the articles on weight loss and addiction on his site, specifically this one: http://www.emofree.com/addictions/weightlossseries.htm

In particular, the last part of that article about "Patti" changed everything for me.

I have only been practicing it for a week, but I can tell you that this week, I've been eating fresh, healthy, *real* food (I've decided to stay away from all fake/processed/toxic stuff...which also means no artificial sweeteners) while having significantly fewer cravings, seeking out and enjoying opportunities to exercise for exercising's sake, and lost 4 lbs in the process.  I've found myself more motivated to be productive with my time; I'm not engaging in self-defeating dialog or patterns, and I just feel...well...hopeful.   AND-- I've been able to reduce the amount of insomnia drugs I've taken nightly for over 4 years *in half*.  In a week!  I'm hopeful that I will be able to kick them completely in another week or two. Most importantly, EFT has allowed me to make reparations to myself that I have needed for most of my life.  Being able to truly forgive yourself is incredibly empowering!  And, I might add, I have not yet spent a dime.  This has all come about with free information.  I may, as things progress, seek out some intensive one-on-one training or purchase some videos, but as of yet...gratis. 

I really don't want to sound like I'm trying to sell you all something, so I apologize if it seems at all like a hard push.  It has just been so helpful to me, and I'd love to think that someone else might find some peace with it.  Read read read, print stuff out to read it later, and follow links to more information...you never know where you might end up!

Be *well*!!!

Do we ever learn The Lesson?  We’re learning; we’re shrinking.  (So is it The Lesson or The Lessen?)  And if we’re REALLY lucky, we don’t stop doing the former once we’re done doing the latter.  We’re figuring out what is actually important as we move further and further away from being “The Fat Girl.” (Or Boy...) and closer to being a “normal” person.   And we realize that as we live more of our lives as a “normal” person, we don’t want to dwell as much on the journey as we traverse it everyday. 

Part of being “normal” (and I will ALWAYS have to put that word in quotes since my dad drilled it into me from early childhood that “Normal” was nothing to which you really wanted to aspire,)  is the idea that you don’t marvel at everything you do at every moment you do it…you just *do* it.  It doesn’t occur to you that walking up the stairs to your front door without getting out of breath or bending over to tie your shoe laces, or having 90% of the shops in the mall catering to your size is a big deal.   And so you find yourself with less to say about it.  You find yourself --gasp!-- going about your business without realizing that 6 months or a year or two years ago, you couldn't have DREAMED of doing any of it.  You find yourself forgetting the little things that made this journey so momentous in the beginning.  And so you find that 4 or 6 or even 8 weeks goes by before you remember that you have a blog/journal/profile to update or that you were once addicted to reading these boards a gazillion times a day.  You find that you are just...well...living.  You're no longer a fat person.  You're no longer a "post-op".  You're no longer getting used to being "normal." You're just a *person.*  Living your everyday life like all of the other *people* around you.  Good days, bad days...you're just a person. 

But every once in a while, it's a great thing to look back here and remember how far you've come.  While the goal was always to just live my life in the unremarkable way that it always seemed the other "normal" sized people did, I never want to forget entirely that being "normal" is, in many ways, a totally remarkable thing.

 

Good grief, it's already 2007?!   I swear that I just got used to writing out '06 on things...not to mention the fact that I still don't know what we even call this blasted decade...the Zero's? The Oughts?  Oy.  Either way, they're moving pretty bloody fast...but I guess time's fun when you're having flies. :)

Not that I'm having flies.  I'm not having much of anything these days because I've been completely bowled over by a very sudden and very nasty stomach flu.  I swear I was completely fine on Monday.  Worked late at the store...tired, but no biggie.  And then 12:30 that night...WHAM.  I'd put late Mon night and early tuesday morn as one of the lowest physical points of my life.  Let's just say that when my body decides that it doesn't want  whatever is in it, it isn't kidding around and it will find an exit, north or south...often at the same time.  Really unsavory stuff  (And I'm sure you saying, "Gee, MelRose, thank you SO much for that visual.") But wow...it was (and continues to be) most unpleasant.  Not nauseated anymore, but I'm still running for the bathroom every 15-20 mins...it definitely puts a crimp in one's lifestyle. 

But-- just to get in touch with my inner Pollyanna...it did definitely do one thing good for me:  As of this morning, I had officially hit my goal weight of 159.  120 lbs less than I was when I started this journey in Sept. 05!!  Now, I know very well that the sudden loss was mostly water and that that number will rise again once I can actually eat, but I must admit that even though I'm a HUGE proponent of forgetting about the pounds, it was awfully nice to see *IT*.  That magic number I'd envisioned when I started all of this.  Especially since I've been fighting the same 3 lbs or so up and down for several months now...anywhere from 162-166.  (Alas, working in Susan's store, while still much fun, has not done as much to kick up the metabolism as I'd hoped...but that's because I'm working next to one of the world's most dangerous bakeries...and guess where we tend to get breakfast in themornings?? Sigh.)

All of this just reinforces my resolve not to get caught up in the pounds. But it also reinforces the major warning signals I get when I see anyone on the boards post about this-many-pounds GONE FOREVER.  Guess what, folks?  They aren't gone magically...we still have to work.  This is not a permanent fix if your behaviors don't back up your intent.  It is possible to screw yourself up.  So-- I intend to use this involuntary back-to-liquidsness to get myself back on track a bit...concentrate more on the protein and fluids, and less on the croissants at La Farine Bakery. :) 

Well, it's looking more and more likely that a once a month check in is the way things are going to be around here...life just really gets ahead of me these days.  I can make all the promises in the world to be better about updating this thing, but the reality is that I just suck at it.  Good thing I don't "blog" for a living!

Speaking of a living, I'm now making one again.  And this time, I find myself actually excited to go to work.  Some of you in the OH community may remember Susan M who had her VSG with Dr. Cirangle last January.  She and I became immediate friends after meeting in an informational seminar last year and have been bosom buddies ever since.  Well, Susan chucked her old life as a "corporate lackey" (as she put it) and decided to open her own business here in Berkeley.  Behold "Urban Forest Home"...an amazing store that helps people in urban environments create green and eco-friendly harmonious spaces in their homes even if they don't have an outside space to use.  She's been working her ever-shrinking tuchus off for many moons to get this off the ground and it has finally taken wing.  And since she found herself in need of help (and I found myself with A.) a lot of time on my hands and B.) no income) we decided to combine our needs.  Hence, since Tuesday of this week, I've been an employee of this wonderful store and learning about SUCH cool stuff.  Susan really wants to live her values, which include making as little an impact on the planet as possible...so everything is made from post-consumer recycled products, rescued materials from landfills, all of the living things are organic and very hardy...it's really astounding what she's done.  And I am honored to be a part of an endeavor I can believe in...I get to learn all sorts of great things about plants/flowers and both local and international artisans who contribute their efforts, plus I get to go play with my sweet friend and her delightful pooch (Bella-- the 80 lb Bernese Mountain Dog who is the official Urban Forest Puppy and Greeter) every day  So-- YAY! 

And just to add ANOTHER bonus to this whole situation,  I'm not sitting around on my butt all day...I wore my pedometer to work the other day just to see how much moving around I did, and after 7 hours in the store, I was up to almost 2.5 miles...just in the course of my normal work day!  So...the scale, which had been firmly stuck at 163 since I left my old job, has started to move again...after 3 days of work!!  YIPPEEEE!  Now I'll have to wait a bit before I get my wedding dress altered...mayhaps I'll actually reach my goal. (Will wonders never cease???)

And yes...I bought a dress.  It's not the one I was describing before, ( I just couldn't find a bra that would keep the droopy girls under control with such a low back)  but it is still green.  Olive Green Silk Chiffon with spaghetti straps, cut on the bias with gorgeous beading around the bodice and down both hips.  It's very 30's-ish..sleek and stylish and amazing and I'm thrilled with it.  AND it was on humongous sale, so Amy P will be very proud. ;)  I had a negative experience in a bridal salon with a pushy saleslady who didn't want to accept the fact that I wasn't interested on spending $1000 on a dress, so I said "SCREW THAT" and went by myself to Macy's the next day...and there it was.  In the back of the clearance rack in the formal salon...50% off and an EXTRA 50% off if you bought it before noon.  How could I pass that up!!??  It's a size 12 to accommodate the "girls", so I'll have to have it taken in at the waist and hips, but it was such a bargain that I can afford to have it well tailored. :)   Man I LOVE being a normal size.  Shopping is just so much more fun.

The one not-good thing that has occurred in the past few days is that my maternal grandmother has rather suddenly taken a turn for the worst. She was fine on thanksgiving, but she has since fallen twice...once requiring stitches in her head, and last week she broke her hip.  She's had bad and very painful infections in her digestive tract and she's been less and less coherent as the days pass...we're all making our peace with the fact that she is probably not going to recover.  For her sake and the sake of my mom and Mom's sister (who have been taking care of her), I hope she doesn't linger in pain.  I think she's ready to go and be reunited with my grandfather...she's 85 and has lived a very full and mostly happy life.  I'm just sad that she's had to be in this much pain already and that she probably won't be able to see me get married.  At least she knows that I'm happy and healthy and that she's very loved.

If I don't manage to update here before the holidays are upon us...MERRY MERRY AND HAPPY HAPPY to all!!

Well, as many of you know, life has changed significantly (AGAIN) since my last post.  First and foremost, yes, it's official:  I'm gonna be a "Mrs" in May.  Matthew popped The Question on Oct. 22 and I gave him an unqualified "YES!" in front of a dozen family and friends.  Well, to be precise, what I actually said was "Of course I will!"  followed closely by "You shmuck!" as I realized all of the deceit that had been perpetrated--not only by him but by my parents as well--in the name of the surprise.  Granted, this was all good deceit. :)  But still...I didn't have a CLUE and, in hindsight, there were so many things that should have tipped me off!  Nonetheless, it was a lovely evening, a wonderful surprise and I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend and a shiny ring. :)  (See photos to the left)  All good!

 We've decided to have a very small wedding at my parents' house (my childhood home) before they move out of it next year...sort of a last hurrah, if you will.  It's a really meaningful place for both of us, and a warm and lovely space to boot.  Plus, the 'rents are having all sorts of renovations done to get it ready for sale, so it will be all nice and purty... we may as well take advantage before new owners get to enjoy all of that new granite and stainless steel!

So, as you can imagine, my life has shifted gears into major planning mode.   I just had no idea how many seemingly silly details and decisions have to be dealt with in anticipation of even our low-key non-traditional event.   The really wonderful thing is that we have a lot of talented and generous people in our circle that have offered to help with so many things ranging from getting us wholesale flowers to arranging centerpieces to doing my makeup...and since the ceremony and reception will both be at home, we are going to be able to hold the costs waaaay down.  Which is a good thing since what we'd really like to do is be able to buy a home before we retire...and in the Bay Area, that's no small thing.

ANYWHO, the blog-worthy part of this whole saga comes in when I think about buying a dress.   Like I said, we're going the non-traditional route, so that means I get to "Just say no" to the poofy-princessy white dress!   Not that I ever would have worn one even at my biggest, but there just weren't too many classy options available to me then.  There is just so much more available to me as a size 8 than there ever were as a size 22!  Just yesterday, I found a dream of an evening gown in a little boutique in Rockridge...one of those places I used to walk past and dream about patronizing some day.  So, there it is...an olive/ivy green sleeveless satin bias cut sheath dress with a cowl neck,  a stunning low draped back with a spray of bronze and black beads along one hip.  It's hard to describe, but trust me on this:  It's totally unique, tastefully sexy, so elegant and fits me like a dream.  Now all I have to do is figure out if there are any backless bras out there that will actually hold the ever droopy girls in place. *Sigh*  But if I can find one,   Oooh baby-- Matthew's eyes are going to pop out of his head.   What a total turn around from what I would have thought about wearing a year ago!   It's not a done deal yet (that was the first dress I tried on!) but I'm thinking it's not going to get much better than that, and at this point, all I can do is confuse myself by adding in more options!

The one decision I *have* made in the past couple of weeks is not to pursue plastic surgery until well after the whole wedding thing is over.  Yes-- I'd love to have all of that done to minimize the droopage and slackitude that seems to be a gimme after massive weight loss.  But the fact of the matter is...to get it all done would cost about $20,000 and with a wedding coming up, (not to mention me STILL out of work and thus unqualified for any financing,) that's just not realistic.  Sad but true...so we're moving on and I'll just hope that i can revisit it in a year or so when things have (hopefully?) settled down a bit.  But if the last year has taught me anything, it's that life changes on a dime.  You just gotta go with what you're given and hope that you can turn it into something golden.  (Or maybe shiny and sparkly like what's on my left hand now! :D )

Alrighty then... yesterday was the One Year Anniversary of my VSG.  Alas, this posting is a day later than I intended because all hell broke loose this week.  Good god, I don't even know where to begin.

Some of you know that I haven't been thrilled with the job I took in June.  It had some potential upsides which was what convinced me to take it to begin with...I just had to wait out the "slow season" and then it would, supposedly, get busier once the school year started.  Well, the school year started, and...nada.  There were more tasks to do, but nothing really changed.  I was still sitting in a room by myself most days and getting more and more frustrated by the day.

The upshot is this:  My mid-probationary-period review was yesterday, and due to some crystallizing moments I've experienced this week, (more on that later!) I had already decided to tell my bosses that while I was ready and willing to stay through the end of the semester so that I didn't leave them high and dry,  I wasn't feeling like it was a good place for me.  Well, they beat me to the punch and had already decided to exercise the "at will" option in our probation agreement.  Apparently, the feeling was mutual, but they didn't see the need for me to stay when no one seemed to be that happy in the situation.  I was glad we were all on the same page, but I was rather taken aback at the abruptness of the termination.  Though I can't say I'm displeased with the outcome when all is said and done.  It simply wasn't a good fit...and aside from the fact that I generally walked to and from work, it wasn't any good for my health either.  I had a lot of time on my hands to be bored and frustrated...two MAJOR triggers for emotional eating.  And guess what?  I succumbed to it several times...hence my entry on September 21.

The fact of the matter is that they hired me because I am a people person...they felt that they needed someone to be the first point of contact for the students and clients of the center...the "Face" of the program, if you will.  But that's has only proven to be about 20% of the job.  The other 80% is mindless busy work, scheduling the director's calendar and babysitting the room.  You can't hire an extrovert and then put her in a room by herself where she rarely interacts with anyone.  What they really need is a meticulously detail-oriented, independent office manager to standardize their processes and get a University-approved framework in place within which they can operate their fledgling department.  I'm just not any good at that.  Give me people with a problem or a question, and I will do my damndest to solve/answer it.  Give me paperwork that involves diving headfirst into the morass of "university policies and procedures" and I lose focus and interest VERY quickly.    I'm just not great at inventing ways to stay busy, dealing with minutiae and sorting out bureaucratic processes that don't seem to be based in any sort of logic.  And that being the case, I'm not sure how I fit into the public university environment...I'd be pretty hard pressed to find a position for which I'm actually qualified that wouldn't drive me batty and/or suck me into the massive bureaucracy vortex every day.  And *that* would sabotage my health in a major way...not just physically but mentally as well.

SO-- long story short:  I was "let go".  95% of me knows that this is for the best for SO many reasons.  But 5% of me is the brusied ego part that says "what do you mean, you don't want me???"  I know, I know...I didn't want them either.  It's a win-win situation for everyone, and it's considered a "no fault" situation, so it doesn't reflect badly on my personnel record if I want to work for the Uni. again.  The director even told me that he'd be a good reference for me if I wanted to use him as such.  But it still stings when someone tells you that you aren't good enough...sort of like ending a relationship when you both know it is doomed and unworkable.  You totally agree with the outcome...you just wish you could have said it first.  But I'm glad I took the job to begin with...learning what I could NOT tolerate was something I really needed to know first hand.  And what I need is to be in a place in which I am a part of a team, part of a community of people I enjoy.  I have been acutely missing the comraderie of workmates who become friends, and I now know that I am not good in a position that limits the social interaction I crave.

And that leads to something else that happened this week.  A good friend from my previous job collapsed with what seemed to be a stroke on Monday.  She was admitted to the hospital and in the course of doing CAT scans, the docs found a couple of masses on her lungs and brain.  They did a biopsy and yesterday the word came down that it was positive.  This amazing woman has cancer.  This is one of the most kind, spontanously generous, joyous and sparkly people I've ever met and I'm so scared for her.   I went to see her on Tuesday, and she was surrounded by people...most of whom were former employees of the company my friend still works for.  Walking into her room was like walking into a mini-reunion.  I didn't particularly like that job, but MAN I worked with some good people.  So when I left the hospital, I was more certain than ever that I needed to find another job where I could both do something I was GOOD at, and be a part of a community like that again.  Looks like the fates were listening.

SO-- that was my anniversary.  I found out that my friend has cancer and I got canned.  Matthew had no idea whether I wanted to celebrate or mourn...and neither did I.  I guess it was a little of both.  There are a lot of lessons to sort through here and it will take me some time to really figure out how I feel about all of this.  Relieved, scared, indignant, free, pressured, released...it's all a jumble right now.  But I'm still far better off than I was a year ago.  I'm healthier, I'm wiser, I'm more experienced, I'm seasoned, and-- of course-- I'm smaller. :)

Oct. 11 now seems to represent  a day of upheaval.  Of rebirth.  Of major change.  Of celebration.  Of sadness.  Makes me wonder what future Oct. 11's hold for me.

So I'm not going to go into too much of it now, but the outlook is MUCH better than it was a week ago.  I guess I'm just in a more hopeful space.  Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that for the first time in my adult life, I bought jeans in a SINGLE DIGIT SIZE on Wednesday.  That's right, ladies and germs...I now fit into a size *8*.  I'm flabbergasted...when I first started this journey, I remember saying to Matthew that I'd be happy to be a size 12 again  (I figured that that was as far as my body would happily go) but that my ultimate dream was to be a size 10.  And then a couple of months ago, I was pondering the fact that I still had a fair amount to go before I hit my very reasonable weight goal, and since I was already a size 10, that there was a possibility that I'd be an 8.  But in my secret self, I totally dismissed that as a viable hope.  Me?  A size 8?  Guffaw!!  Well...the secret's out:  See the photo album titled "Single digits!")

The possibilities are out there, folks...you just gotta grab on.

So—it has been many moons since I posted anything here.  Sometimes the thought of capturing every step I take along this path is daunting (to say the least!) Especially when it hasn’t been all great…I hate the thought of bitching or whining about things I think should have under control at this juncture.  So, in keeping with my usual tendency, I withdraw... keep the negative stuff  to myself…don’t let ‘em see you sweat. ;)  But the reality of this situation is that everyone has ebbs and flows.  And everyone needs to know that even the most seemingly successful of us has doubts, weaknesses and battles that get fought on a daily (sometimes HOURLY) basis.  It’s not fair or realistic for me to keep that stuff to myself when other people might benefit from the shared knowledge…so, here it goes:

Basically, I have allowed myself to get completely derailed in the past month.  Matthew had surgery on his knee in mid- August.  It was done on an outpatient basis and he came through it terrifically well.  But I was afraid at the slight chance, however remote, that I might lose him. And I dealt with that fear with the old standby…soothing myself with food.  I also soothed him with food—buying him some of his favorite guilty pleasures that we never keep around the house in order to make him feel better though the worst of the recovery.  But he wasn’t the only one eating the chips or ice cream.  Between that and the fact that my new-ish job can be mind-numbing and a bit disheartening, I’ve had some major emotional eating bouts that I have not been able to squelch.

I haven’t lost a pound since early August…nor have I gained anything.  But having gotten only 8 lbs from my goal, I am totally disgusted with myself for losing accountability when I’m so tantalizingly close to where I want to be.  I was 168 a month ago, I'm 168 today.  I have traded up and down the same pound or two, and up or down a percentage of body fat… nothing is changing muscularly, nothing is changing in the way my clothes fit.  And yet—I have this nagging terror in the back of my brain that says, yet again, I will have started only to fail before I get to the goal.  The only thing I can say I’ve done with any consistency is walk daily, since I walk to and from work. (35 mins in each direction.) But even then, I’ve been taking the bus a couple of times a week, too, and I’ve never added in any other exercise.  I’ve been snacking rather than keeping a regular eating schedule, I’ve eaten refined carbs on a much more regular basis, (not junky, processed foods, but a scone for breakfast, or some kettle chips with lunch, fresh sourdough bread or falafel for dinner…that kind of thing).  I don’t think that these are the sorts of things that got me in trouble to begin with.  But  then I think that it’s only a matter of time before I buy a small candy bar or a bag of chips while convincing myself “a little won’t hurt…it’s not like I can eat the whole thing!” and then all hell breaks loose.

I haven’t been posting on the board either, because I haven’t wanted to feel like a hypocrite for offering advice to newbies when I’ve been in such a floundering place.  Neither did I want to “whine” about it.  And I’d never want to scare anyone with the potential for trouble down the road.  But I cringe everytime I read someone write “that’s x-amount of
pounds GONE FOREVER.”  That is NOT a given, folks.  You have to stay diligent and aware.  This surgery makes it FAR more likely that you will be able to exert control over your physiology.  But it’s not a guarantee of anything.  The work is still ours to do. 

It’s a slippery slope, people.  Everyone is right—the more sugar/carbs you eat, the more of it you want.  I’ve found that I’m fighting all of those old battles again and losing more frequently than I’ve ever wanted to admit.  I am so grateful to have my tool, though—it keeps me from indulging in too much at any one time.  Nonetheless, this is a good in- your-face kind of lesson that this surgery will NOT cure you of an eating addiction. 

I guess I just have to fall back on the old clichés…One day at a time, as they say.  The road seems pretty effortless in the beginning.  But the mountains are there in the distance, and you’d better have your low gears in good working order because they are a bitch.

First and foremost...look at the pics (in the "My New Boyfriend 8/13/06" folder) of Matthew's sexy new do!  It's almost like having a new man in my life... his, too, frankly, because this was the first haircut he'd had in *18* years!!

Okay, movin' on...Well-- I have now seen the TCM doc several times, and while I can't put my finger on anything specific that has changed, I will tell you that I feel LIGHT years better.  I still have lightheadedness, and I've made an appointment with another neurologist to get a second (or rather, THIRD) opinion as to what is going on in my head aside from MS.  But (and Matthew will attest to this) my whole outlook and attitude has changed.  I have so much more consistent energy.  I don't feel like someone with a chronic illness.  And my passions are coming back.  I didn't realize how detached I'd been of late...not really "not caring" per se, but just not as engaged or enthusiastic about in anything around which I used to have a lot of energy.  And i'm finding that I'm slowly rediscovering that passion.  I have no idea if it can be attributed to the acupuncture/ herbal treatments, to the lack of hormonal birth control in my system, or the general increase in health that occurs as
I shrink.  Who knows? 

Actually, the question really is-- WHO CARES??  This is probably one of those situations in which I should just accept the gift and not nitpick about why. (This is not in my nature, but I'm trying ;-) )  I'm also not obsessively charting my progress with the weightloss anymore.  I was
uber-organized about it for the first 6 months-- writing down everything I ate, doing caloric conversions, keeping daily tabs on my weight/body fat percentage.  And then, slowly, I realized that charting my progress so carefully was just as unhealthy as ignoring it completely.  It's all about balance...obsessing about every lb/percentage point/inch is
still just that-- OBSESSING.  i had this surgery so that I would NOT have to focus on food and weight all the time.  Now-- this is not to say I'm not paying attention.  Or that I don't need to notice how I'm treating my body and what I choose to put into it.  But it's not healthy for ME to agonize over it and quantify every little thing.  i choose to put
good, healthy fuel into my system 90% of the time and I walk all over the place.  Occasionally, I have a small piece of cake at a party or some potato chips, but I'm not binging and I don't feel out of control around it.  It's a treat, not a way of life.  It's normal!!!  (Good god...did I just call myself the "N" word?? ;) ))

The numbers don't matter in the end.  How many calories I had that day, how much weight i've lost or still have to lose...who cares?  I am energetic.  I'm having FUN shopping for clothes.  I can (and DO) walk for hours without pain or fatigue.  I'm flexible.  I glow!  I'm living the life of a healthy person.  THAT is what counts.  That was the point all along.