Yesterday marked a truly momentous day for me. Not only did the day mark exactly 4 weeks since my sleeve (Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy), but I had my first real "Aha" moment. Are maybe it could better be described as an "Oh shit!" moment....
Did I mention that being the overachiever that I am, that not only did I have WLS, but I decided to quit smoking at the same time. Yep, figured if I could go the two weeks of my surgeon's required pre op liquid protein diet without even cheating once, I could give up cigarettes and make a real commitment to my overall health and well-being. I must admit, until yesterday, wasn't even having a real issue with the smoking thing. Until...
Until I had to cope with an issue--one of the many demons a WLS patient must actually confront head on. Yes, the sleeve has provided me an awesome tool with which to enable me the power to achieve my weight loss goals. But what the sleeve can't do, is manage the "head hunger" for me--the eating as a coping mechanism. That's right, unlike what I've told myself over the past 18 years, I'm didn't get this fat just because I'm a "foodie" and I truly love food. Nope, turn on the Food Network, lots of slim foodies on there. Part of the reason I got this fat was because I used food as a coping mechanism. Wonderful delicious food provided pleasure while also helping to shove those problems and issues I didn't want to deal with wwwwaaaayyyy down. Then I could focus on guilt for overeating or making bad food choices instead. Or maybe focus on the physical and emotional pain that being over 300 pounds deals on a daily basis. Focus on anything but solving the problem. And if the food didn't medicate me enough, there was always a cigarette to help with the stress.
When the moment came last night I was lost. Seriously, I was floundering, I had no clue what to do. I couldn't eat--okay, I could've eaten, but I knew that with my sleeve, I wouldn't be able to eat enough to shove this issue down and to make matters worse, I had no cigarette to spark up to deal with the stress I was feeling. What to do, what to do, what to do????? I know...I got dressed ( I was already comfortably in my PJ's at this point), put on my sneakers, and I went for a walk. Not just a walk, I walked fast, and furious and with purpose. Not only that, but I felt and I dealt. I thought over the situation, I mulled over my anger & frustration, and I made a decision to find my voice and stand up for me. But guess what else--I felt better. There was no guilt and no anger at myself. I actually felt empowered. Yes indeed, I am woman, hear me roar!!! I felt pride--pride at faciing this head on, finding my voice, not crumbling and falling apart, at feeling good and strong and powerful. And what a workout I got!!
Victory is mine...
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