Take Two.

Tuesday the sixth.

I was called back by the surgeons office this afternoon. Woo! 🧑🏻‍⚕️ They were willing to set my appointment for tomorrow, but I can’t do that – I work tomorrow. So I told them Tuesday’s are best for me and I am free for whenever. So next Tuesday it is…

Normally I would ramble on and on about thoughts, worries, etc. But today will be short because I’m using my cell phone to write this. Why? Don’t laugh! 👀 One of my cats, Odis, was asleep in my computer chair && I didn’t want to wake him up. So I left the room to use my phone. ☎️

But I will say this much. My “fat brain” is freaking out && I know that it’s going to take a lot to calm it down. However, I know I need to do this to survive – I’m just, probably like everyone else on the planet that has done this surgery, scared of how it’s going to change me.

The thought of taking an hour to eat one scrambled egg terrifies me. Although, I’m pretty sure by 30 minutes in, I’m going to get bored of eating. 🍽️

I did have a check up with my doctor today. We didn’t do much so I have nothing new to go by. I did tell him that when I eat I sweat, which is weird – asked if I should be worried. He said no – he is pretty sure it’s because of my Trulicity. I also asked for a prescription of antacids because BOY! Woo! All I get anymore is heartburn. Sucks. I have an appointment next month to check my A1C. Hopefully it has gone down. I know my daily numbers are lower. Send a prayer up for me on that.

I will stop on that note && will pick it back up again later on.

Untitled.

When I was released from the hospital earlier this year I was told to weigh myself everyday. For the first few months I did. Every morning. Ass soon as I woke up, used the bathroom, I went straight to my scale and weighed myself. I did it for so long that I eventually starting getting irritated and upset everyday because I wasn’t seeing any change.

So I stopped that.

I understand why they want me to watch my weight. I do. Completely. But at the same time, my mental status is something I have to keep up with. That’s a huge thing nowadays. Everyone talks about how crazy and incoherent they are, so I should keep mine up to par too.

Yes, I know I’ve discussed weighing myself before. But I decided that I would weigh myself only on Monday’s. Tuesday if I forgot. I weighed myself today and I gained 0.4 pounds in a week. Now you’re thinking, that’s not terrible. Which it’s not, I agree, but at the same time it drives me a little crazy because I want to keep losing.

&& sometimes, I don’t.

I know for a fact if I would start walking – yes, still in that rut – that I would drop it. I have seen it happened. Year after year. I always do that to myself. I’ll start losing weight && feel so great then something happens. Which I’ve told y’all about before too. Right now, I have nothing to stop me except the fact that I just don’t have oomph. I think about it daily and I tell myself, “I need to go for a walk today.” (I even said it to myself today.) I just… never do. Then I complain because my weight loss is stalled.

It’s quite ineffective if you ask me.

&& until I do it, I’ll never continue doing it.

My job has this thing every year that is called an IDP, which more jobs have it that I didn’t realize. One of the parts is wellness && we can do a walking calendar and I feel like I’m behind. Our 2022 IDP’s started on 10-1 && I have not walked a single day. I’m wasting my walking days.

&&& I still haven’t used my jump rope. It’s still just sitting in my side drawer staring at me when I open it. It screams, “COME ON BARB, LET’S JUMP ROPE!” Where as my body says, “You don’t want to do that, you want to go back to bed.”

I don’t do either, usually just end up in my chair, which I call a fat chair. It’s one of those larger recliners && I made jokes that I can grow to fit in it. Boyfriend didn’t find it quite as funny as I did.

Upside, I’m 8 pounds away from my first goal. Remember me saying I wanted to weigh what my driver license says. I’m 8 pounds away && 8 pounds from being able to say I have lost 100 pounds since January. So there’s that…

Beat Myself Up!

(Originally wrote 5/21/2021 – finally was able to upload it.)

I have eater’s remorse. It’s kind of like buyer’s remorse (which sometimes I have that also), but instead it’s when I eat something. Food is something that has always given me comfort, whether I was happy/sad/mad/disgusted – I knew I had food and it wouldn’t let me down. The last few years I have been attempting to get over my struggle and fight with food and my bad eating habits, which probably isn’t as bad as a lot of people, for me, it’s bad. But all I’ve noticed is that it has turned even uglier because now when I eat I feel bad for hours afterwards && start trying to think of a way to get rid of it. (No, I don’t make myself puke.)

I told Boyfriend once, && it’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t feel it, that I feel bad after eating. Not “feel bad” like in a sick way, but like, I feel terrible because I ate it. I told him I wanted to be the type of person who can go into a convenience store and buy a corn dog, eat it with some good ol’ mustard, and not hate myself for three hours afterwards. But I can’t.

There is a store here in my town that has the best corn dogs. They are always crispy on the outside and juicy yummy on the inside. I would stop by there sometimes && grab a couple and go home. Then afterwards, I was trying to make sense in my head why I was so mad at myself for eating two corndogs when I barely eat them as it is.

Since all of these doctor appointments my eater’s remorse has gotten worse. Today for lunch at work, I wanted to treat my people so I told them if they wanted something from Taco Casa that I would pay for it. (They work really hard && sometimes you just need to show that you care && appreciate them.) So I took everyone’s orders && my manager went && picked it up. I paid. I decided that I would get something from there, nothing huge, not a lot, just something. I really like their nachos – well, okay, I like their chips && cheese which I add the crumbled meat and just dip my chips in it. It’s not even a large set of nachos.

I sat here && ate it. Got full && stopped, tossing whatever was left. Then I sat here && thought about what I had just eaten. Thinking to myself, ‘why did I eat that? Why didn’t I just eat what I brought?’ (A healthy choice frozen dinner with some veggies.) But now, it’s even worse, because I also ordered a tea because it sounded delicious. I mean, who doesn’t like a good glass of tea? That was also on my mind. I kept thinking I didn’t need to drink that especially since it wasn’t unsweet (which is what I wanted but that’s fine). Why did I eat it? Drink the tea?

Sometimes I feel if I eat certain things that I’m basically saying my life isn’t good enough to keep going && that I am wasting what I do have left. Then I start feeling like crap, this time I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest.

But I don’t feel like this with all food – last night for dinner I made salmon && creamy rice. I didn’t feel bad after eating that. I felt great! I wasn’t overly full && I didn’t feel horrible afterwards.

Before the hospital stay I ate how I wanted knowing that I can lose weight without changing a lot of what I eat. But now, I feel like everything I put in my mouth is a death sentence. Nothing is good, nothing should be consumed, when the logical part of my brain knows that isn’t right.

My relationship with food has always been complicated && now I feel like I should be breaking up with food all together. That it && me just can’t go on like this && I have no idea how to fix my issue.

&& yes, I do have buyer’s remorse. The only two things in my life I do not regret buying was my first car when I was 18 && my house when I was 31ish. Well, I say I don’t have it with the house. I didn’t. Until this year when I found out everything in my is trying to shut down && stop working that in 30 years (the note length) I may not even be here to finish paying for it.

This may not be completely about food && more about possibly not being here for as long as I had planned. I feel like I need to start doing everything that I wanted to in life so I can be remembered as the girl who did it all. I want to finish my book, open a restaurant, help people – be known for something. If I died tomorrow – what would people remember me as? The girl who showed up for work every day that didn’t help anyone anywhere. I don’t want this to define me but I’m in a spot where this is what it is. This is me. This is my life. I will be dead && no one will remember me. I will have left no mark whatsoever on anyone.

I always imagined great things for myself && that by now, I thought I would have already achieved most of it. The ONLY thing I have gotten was a house && found the love of my life.

I know what you’re thinking – if my dream is to finish the book && open a restaurant – then what’s stopping me? The book – I hate reading it to edit it because I hate my writing. Always have (story for another day unless I’ve already wrote about it). I am trying to finish editing the book so I can get the junk out of it that I know exists within the walls of it, but I can’t seem to read enough of it to finish the editing process. I know – I could just let someone read it && edit it for me. Problem! I don’t want anyone to read it right now because of the junk inside of it. I know it can be better than it is && before I offer to let people read it I want to fix it. But to fix it, I have to read it. To read it I have to get over my insecurities that I have about my writing.

Restaurant? I found a building I want. It’s in the perfect location in the town I life in. In fact, it’s on the end of my road – I could walk there. I know with a little tender love && care, a little bit of renovation, that it could be the greatest little restaurant anyone has seen in my town, population of 483 in 2018. Sounds great, right? A little too great, of course. The building is 178,000$ && unfortunately, I do not have 178,000$ to drop on a building that I would need more money to renovate (it wasn’t a restaurant to start with.) Actually, I do believe it started out as a bank then it was turned into the water department, which just recently moved down the street to a building they built just for it. Now it’s empty. It even still has the window when it was a bank that I could turn into a drive thru. Yes! I have given it THAT much thought.

I think I’m rambling now.

The other night I got sick. Wednesday night. After I got done filling my trash can, I laid there alone && wondered if this is a new symptom. Is this something new telling me that I’m slowly deteriorating and that soon there will be no more of me? It’s a scary thought when you’re only 33 years old that tomorrow my heart could just stop working. I mean, it’s barely working as it is.

I am pretty sure my depression is sparked back up && last time it nearly drove me crazy. But last time I didn’t have Boyfriend. I have him now. Hopefully he has enough mental stamina for the both of us. But even in that sense, that’s a lot of worry to put on a man that could still decide to leave.

I think what bothers me is that I don’t feel bad. I don’t feel like…. I should feel… for someone that has heart && kidney issues. I feel like… I should feel worse. Don’t get me wrong, I do have my days. But on those days do I feel bad because of my heart && kidneys or do I just feel bad? Like Wednesday – people puke. People eat stuff that doesn’t agree with their stomach && the puke. Maybe I just got sick. Boyfriend said he didn’t feel good either. He can’t get sick because of MY heart && kidney issues.