This is a Really Real Mental Health Post.
and a Really Real Health post.
I worked my ass off and got approved for bariatric surgery.
My final appointment is at 10am today and I will schedule surgery.
Except, I’m not going. I sent a note in last night cancelling my appointment and dropping out of the program.
My therapist never wanted to write my recommendation letter, even though she spent 5 months trying to. She finally had a long detailed talk with me about it late last week. She didn’t think I was really thinking about this, she thought I was only looking at the outcome I wanted and not the actual challenges.
She thought as much as I’ve grown, as far as I’ve come in the last 3 years, this would be a huge setback to my mental health.
I wanted to ignore her, especially since I’d just spent $200 getting the recommendation letter from an online therapist. I called my older sister, the voice of logic in my life. I wanted her to cheer me on like she’s done in the past.
She pointed out everything my therapist did, and more.
I have worried that my therapist is just against the surgery in general, but I know my sister isn’t. She’s been a major support to me since the first day I talked about it 7 or 8 years ago.
I’ve come so far with my mental health. It’s fucking amazing the growth that has happened in the last 3 years. I sit here as an entirely different person.
I still can’t keep myself on a healthy eating routine.
I still can’t keep myself from binge eating.
I still can’t keep myself going to the gym.
I still can’t keep myself focused on school work.
I still can’t control my spending.
I’m really good at starting stuff, I’m really good at that initial push. And I still have zero follow through.
Right now, falling off on healthy eating sucks. I gain weight back and I feel like a failure.
After surgery it could put me in the hospital. Surgery isn’t going to magically give me the follow through and the willpower to succeed. Surgery isn’t a quick fix, it’s just a tool.
As much as I fight it, food is still a coping mechanism for me. I react to stress, to depression, to boredom, by turning to food. I fight it, but it happens, often.
What happens when I completely remove that avenue of coping because it’s physically impossible? What happens to my mental health? What do I replace it with?
What happens if I can’t replace it with something healthy?
What happens if I can’t cope without it?
I’m not typing this all out to convince anyone else, I already know I’m not getting the surgery. I’m typing it out because I need to see it in black and white. I need to type it and grieve it.
I feel defeated.
It isn’t fair that, yet again, my mental illnesses are getting in the way.