Today, I decided to unveil myself. Well, actually decided last night, but I was in bed at the time, and just having taken my night-time meds, it didn’t seem so smart to try to keep my thoughts gathered, somewhat, while being chemically lulled into sleep.
This is me before I even realized what I looked like on the outside. I mean, I knew I was fat, but my mind kept thinking of myself as no SO fat. Pictures like this really showed me that something needed to be done. I didn’t have any health issues aside from sore knees from carrying their daily load, and sometimes a child or two;) But look at that. That is diabetes, heart disease and other serious health issues just begging to happen.
This is me at the end of January, where I have been exercising almost daily for over 6 months. You can see a big improvement in the number of chins.
This is me about last month. That means it was about 5 months after the operation, The exercise is still almost daily. My hair is too bad today to take a picture. Going to get it cut later this afternoon. As you can see, the surgery and the lifestyle change has been working for me.
I am still not at the weight that I want to be. I am still wearing women’s 2xl tops (44) and larger cut jeans, about a 37″ waist (42). I am starting to find more clothing options, but I still need to look at the shops that carry a Big Girl range. I know I still have a lot of work ahead of me. The first 6 months are easy. The surgery is doing the regulating. Now it is my turn. I am up to the task, but the lack of proof that it is working will be hard for me to take. As I said, I have been encouraged to eat more, and in my mind, that is a bad thing. Until I lose these last 30 pounds, I feel I have to keep it low. I will amp it up to sustaining caloric intake when that happens, but I am not going to stop exercising. If I do that, I will easily slip back onto that beach, though this time my daughter won’t be on my lap, because I will have none.
Mental Issues
I had an appointment for my son’s ADHD. He will begin medication for it Saturday. This scares me. I want what is best for him, but I am scared that the meds will turn him into a zombie. I have had that happen to me. It wasn’t cool. Damn, I have already started crying just writing these few sentences. And then to the final meeting with his current caseworker, because she feels there is nothing more she can do for him. She has referred him to another team that deals more with his type of issues. But, she made me breakdown in the meeting. Not a complete spider type breakdown. but I had to close my eyes, and try to not scream. She wants him tested for Autism and Aspberger’s. He don’t need any more fucking labels!. He doesn’t need any additional challenges.
I am just tried of people looking at my mothering skills and JUDGING me. They say that they are not, but that is bullshit. When they “kindly” point out what I am doing wrong, and making suggestions to fix it, I get mad. These people are so far into our business I swear they know what my shit smells like. I am being judged as handicapped because I had a nervous breakdown at the same time that they decided to start evaluating. They act as if nothing has changed from the days that I couldn’t control my shaking, and my stuttering, and my general lack of togetherness. Now it only gets bad when I am stressed. Of course all these meetings stress me, but only to the hand-wringing and easy tears stage, which I am doing now just thinking about how much this stresses me. My daily life with my children is uneffected by it. As long as I keep a minimum of outside stresses off me, I feel I do a fantastic job with overcoming the extra hurdles my family has to tackle. My son tells me many times a day that I am his favorite person in the world, and that he would even give up body parts if it could keep me with him. If I were such a bad mom, that wouldn’t be happening. BUT these PEOPLE!!!! ARGH!
So of course, of own mental state is a bit of a mess. Keep distracted. Do your exercising. Plan your vacations (Less than a week before I go to Ireland to tear it up with my best friend! WOOT!) I wish I could get my tearducts removed. I would seem more “acceptable” if tears didn’t run down my face every time something upset me. Then people might think that I am sane, They might believe that I am a FUCKING CAPABLE mother who does everything in my power to be better and make it the best possible world for my kids. Why can’t people understand that just because I cry?
So, this is me. The good, the bad, the ugly. Time for me to get some crunches in before I start my day.
thinnerthoughts 