So Sean (the boyfriend) has been blogging again. Not daily (as his name implies) but whenever he feels like he has something to say. Well, he’s inspired me to attempt to do this again, too.
I found as I attempted to write this blog (which was really just for me but if anyone else read it – bonus) I kept writing as if someone who might judge me or make whatever decisions might judge me so therefore it wasn’t 100% honest. It was the same as a teenager, when I attempted to keep a hard-copy journal. I kept writing as if I expected my parents to read it so I’d write things for a reaction (or keep them out to avoid a reaction) and really, at that point, what’s the point? Isn’t a journal to write your innermost feelings? And if I couldn’t write them without fear of repercussion then what was the point of writing at all? I’d rather go out and have fun than sit and write things that were insincere.
So, for those of you who may have read previous posts and now see this and are wondering, “what happened with her weight loss adventure?” I’ll give you an update (with some background info, too).
Highest recorded weight: 320 lbs
Weight on day of RNY surgery (May 21, 2014): 277 lbs
Current weight: 143 lbs
Goal weight: 160 lbs
I don’t have my measurements, but basically they support the fact that I’ve lost over half my excess weight and show about the same (I’ve lost almost as much as I currently am, size-wise) so, bottom line, I’m pretty happy. To be 100% honest I’m not thrilled – I feel too skinny (very weird, I know) and hope to actually gain a little more weight. My 1 year follow-up appointment confirmed I’m still losing about 1 lbs a week but, at this point, it’s actually not a good thing. I’m still considered “normal” on a BMI scale, but the clinic (and me) are concerned that I’m still losing too much (approximately 20 lbs more loss and I’ll actually be considered underweight!!!) I want to stop losing and actually gain a bit. It’s so odd though, because (mostly when naked) I still feel that I look fat. I see pictures of me and I don’t feel fat but it’s when there’s no clothes to mask anything I feel badly about myself. I guess surgery can address the physical eating issues but not the mental ones. It’s actually pretty important to know this going in and having support ready for you when the depression hits (I say “when” because from what I’ve seen EVERYONE goes through a “WTF did I do???” phase after a couple months and lasting a couple months.
So, attached, are some pictures. Hope you enjoy them!
As for life, this is what’s going on: July 2014 I left my “hometown” (I wasn’t born there, but have been there 26 of 33 years) and went to Guelph, Ontario, Canada, to be with my boyfriend. Other than my daughter I had nothing here – my job was making me very sick (depression/anxiety made it so I could barely leave the house and I was off on a disability for over a year), my daughter was (technically is, still) suffering from depression/anxiety and self-harming behaviours, money was tight due to the disability and not having ANY payments for over 3 months while they worked on paperwork, and I was miserable with my weight and how I looked/felt. I was diagnosed with diabetes, couldn’t walk more than 300 metres without being in bad back pain, out of breath (and sweaty) and stopping for a break and totally hated how everyone saw me. I knew I had value as a person and if people could just get past my fat they’d see that…
So, anyway, I left my daughter behind with her dad and stepmother, thinking their structure and discipline was stricter than mine so maybe they could help her better than I could, and moved in with Sean. Things were very tough. I had to not only find a job but pay off all debts that had accrued during my disability and non-payment periods. I had just financed a new vehicle that would be suitable for Sean’s disability needs as well as damn sexy. Plus we had to deal with me, who had been single for years, and Sean, who had also been single for years, trying to re-learn to cohabitate.
Anyway, I love Sean. He met me in February of 2014 and before even knowing I was considering surgery he fell in love with me (FOR me, not for what I COULD be). When he did find out I was approved he was so happy. He never said anything about my weight or me being gross – the surgery was “applied for” way before I met him (here in Ontario, Canada it’s about a 2 year wait from referral of your GP to actual surgery – if you want more info on that part look at my old blogs) – and even though he said he wouldn’t ban all sweets and “bad” foods from his home he was COMPLETELY supportive in my decision.
Back to my life story… so moved to Guelph in July of 2014. September/October of 2014 the landlord tells us he’s selling the place so we decide to move back to the Niagara Region. Sean’s thoughts were that I have family/friends here and, (SUPER unfortunately) while he does have family in the Guelph area, since no one actually talks to or visits with him he figured it would be smarter to move back here. In November of 2014 we moved to Port Colborne, Ontario, Canada. Cute little town, but if you’ve ever heard the phrase “they roll up the sidewalks at 5 pm” it’s probably because it originated there…
The house we rented was a piece of crap. I hated it from the minute we drove up to it (sorry, Sean, if you’re reading this – I know I didn’t say anything and it was because the house appeared to be fine, I just didn’t like the area from when I was a kid – we knew that was a bad area – and because we had a nicer place in Guelph) but Sean loved it for the location and there was nothing legitimate that I could see that would make me say no to it. Well, big mistake. We thought we had found a gem; granted, the floors were uneven and tilted dramatically, but the neighbour was nice and a potential friend for Sean (fail – turns out neighbour likes talking A LOT but not listening AT ALL so very frustrating to try to be around), and the location – well, it was a 15 minute walk to downtown, had a nice sized yard and was 5 minutes from the beach but in the winter (cold, yes, but bizarrely cold? I don’t actually think so…) our pipes froze.
So, like any responsible tenants, we alerted the landlords that there was a problem. They acknowledged that they knew this might happen as it did last year when they lived there so we should just keep water running constantly in the kitchen (pipes on other end of house in laundry room were affected) and put heaters in the laundry room. So we did. It didn’t work. Not only did the pipes freeze again, but they actually burst. I woke up to a sound of rushing water and a freezing house one night… I checked the “basement” (which is just a crawlspace) and the water spewing out of the pipe was mid-calf which was high enough to kill the furnace. We spent hundreds on extra heaters since the furnace was broken (not to mention the cost of the hydro from running the electric heaters – almost $1000 as opposed to a “normal” bill of less than $200) and the landlords were going to get the issue fixed. After a month they still hadn’t fixed the pipe or the furnace – supposedly waiting for insurance. They offered to send us to a hotel until it was completed, provided we submit an insurance claim as well. Well, here’s the thing – Sean is disabled. Not completely, but enough that leaving his custom-decorated/accessible home is completely inconvenient AND add to that we have a nervous/barky 12 lbs dog AND we’re smokers AND at the time I didn’t have a vehicle AND my job was in a town where there were no pet-friendly hotels I’d actually be willing to step foot in AND money is already tight so upping the premiums isn’t cool and so we had a BIG problem. We told the landlords we were going to break the lease and leave early – they agreed, with no penalizations.
In April, 2015, we moved to Welland, Ontario. Not my hometown, but I’ve been here basically forever so I was happy to be back. I’m now (physically) close to my dad, my 2 sisters, my 1 brother (other one lives a couple hours away), my 2 nephews, 3 nieces and friends I’ve known since I moved here at age 8… oh and BEST of all my daughter moved back home with me! .
I’ve tried out a couple jobs (who knew I’d LOVE being a maid when 2 years ago I couldn’t walk 300 metres!) and am currently employed by one of my best friends’ husbands (even though we’ve lost touch for a couple years she still reached out to me when his office had a position I’d be suitable for). I leased another car (I had wanted to buy one outright so I’d never have to deal with the repo man again, but we couldn’t find anything that suited my tastes and Sean’s needs at the same time for our price) and we LOVE our new place. The floors are even, the pipes have not frozen (yet, at least) and we’re having a visit from a great friend from Australia in a couple months. All in all, while money is still tight and depression takes a toll on me and my daughter, I think we’re doing well. I hope Sean is doing well. I know he’s been having a rough go lately, but he won’t really open up to me so it’s hard to fix it (and my goal in life has almost always been to fix things – it’s a curse, actually).
Anyway, so I’ve been having a VERY VERY VERY difficult time sleeping lately. I can’t seem to get more than 2 hours at a time and I’m very very very frustrated. Today I decided (at 5 am) to drink screwdrivers to try to get sleepy. It’s now 7 am and after two screwdrivers containing 1.5 shots of vodka each I am completely drunk (yay for RNY – before surgery I could drink between 7-11 screwdrivers before feeling this messed up) and I can’t think so I’m going to go back to bed, and hopefully FINALLY sleep. (I went to “bed” at 11 pm and haven’t slept yet even though I’ve been desperately trying everything I can think of). Sean just woke up and (as shitty as this is…) I’m completely drunk now so I have to go to bed. My fingers are numb. I don’t recommend this approach to sleep… just I’m so desperate I’m trying anything. Will blog again soon about some side-effects I’m having, but for now feeling too numb to care.