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.
This is a Really Real Mental Health post.
I really have felt good the last few weeks. This is fucking amazing.
Of course there’s a but.
I’m finding little things slipping and that scares me.
I’m no longer interested in crafting, I’m halfheartedly playing games on the computer and mindlessly scrolling facebook. I don’t want to clean and the house is a bit of a disaster right now. I have to fight to do the dishes instead of following my normal routine.
I still feel great, but those are warning signs. This is a case of what comes first, does depression cause a lack of motivation, or does lack of motivation cause the depression. When I’m not motivated it’s easier to get bored, boredom lets my brain be an asshole.
Except right now it’s not being an asshole. Not too much anyway. It’s making me want to eat the house cause I’m bored, and that kinda sucks.
The question is, what do I DO about it? How do I find a way to stay engaged in activities that I have no interest in? How do I keep myself busy and keep my brain occupied? How do I beat back the demons if they try to take over?
How do I stop eating my way through the kitchen? Seriously, that one frustrates me the most right now.
I’m not sure what the answers are and I’m not sure that anyone else can give them to me. Therapy tomorrow should help.
At least I’m back to writing daily, that’s always a good thing.
This is a Really Real Health post. Mental Health and Physical Health, one effects the other. This is also one of my longer posts.
CW: Weight talk. Mention of Suicidal Stuff.
I’ve been really down on myself.
The first year after Parker died I lost a shit ton of weight by seriously working hard at getting active. I got sick, gained some back, got back on track and kept losing. The gym was my sanctuary. Can’t tell the sweat from the tears. Work it out. All that happy-crap.
Over time I’ve slowly slacked off at the gym, and it became apparent that my diet had to change in addition to the gym for me to get anywhere. I gained some weight back, enough that I was uncomfortable in my own skin.
About 4 months ago I started doing Noom and went back to working out as often as I could. I lost 30 pounds. The same 30 I had gained in the previous year and a half. And then 7 weeks ago my mental health took a dive.
I came out of the hospital going back and forth between binge eating and restricting my food. I couldn’t stop eating some days and on others I couldn’t force myself to eat. I was skipping meals, refusing to eat dinner because I knew the scale would be down more the next day. It was really really unhealthy and not typical behavior for me. Well, the restricting food was new, binge eating was what got me in trouble in the first place.
Luckily I mentioned it to a close friend who told me that maybe I should give weight loss a break and focus on my mental health. Ya kn
ow, keeping myself alive was more important than getting myself skinny. I backed way off for a few weeks. Still kept weighing every morning (it’s a Noom thing) but stopped focusing so hard on what I ate.
I tried to get back on track with Noom, kept rewinding the program and kept slipping. Finally I dropped Noom, I had at least the basic idea and knew what worked, I couldn’t justify paying for a program that I couldn’t keep up with. I’m GLAD I started with Noom, I learned a ton from the articles, weighing myself daily is a major game changer, tracking food is key for me. Even when I wasn’t sticking to the program I maintained my weight, even if I didn’t lose any.
Now I’m using another program to track food, I’ve tried to get back on track with doing this consistently for the past 2 weeks. I start off great, tracking breakfast and maybe lunch and then when I realize dinner is going to be something quick and unhealthy, I don’t bother tracking it and then forget for the next 2 days.
I’ve also only been to the gym a handful of times in the last 2 months.
I’ve been really down on myself.
About all of this.
And then today I came across a picture from the day I first cut my hair short.
My jaw dropped.
I’m an entirely different person than I was 5 years ago.
The weight loss is striking, but so is the smile. My smile goes up to my eyes now. (I swear, in some ways Parker left that to me, she used to smile so big her eyes would squint shut.) I’m happier, so much happier, I’m also So So So much healthier.
Five years ago I was letting myself die slowly, a slow suicide through food and inactivity. And I mean that, I was done with living and was just waiting to die.
Two months ago I didn’t want to live for another moment. I had the plan and the means. I was ready to end this all.
I need to stop being so down on myself. I’ve come a LONG way. Even though I still have periods where I’m suicidal, it isn’t an every day, all day problem. Most of the time I’m living so much larger than I ever would have before.
And as a small bonus I’m 100 lbs lighter than I was in that picture.