There are more important things going on in the world. People are killing people. Iran is in Chaos. Natural disasters are everywhere. But what's going on with me is a very personal battle, one I've waged my whole life. This one is with my weight.
Long ago, I suffered from the obsession and the compulsion to use drugs or anything that would alter my miund or mood. Thankfully, I got past that era, and am clean and sober for 14 years TODAY! YAAAAY! But I remember the obsession and compulsion to use drugs. I remember that, for the first year, after acknowledging that I had a problem and wanted help with it, I still struggled, mightily, with the desire to use drugs. The high they provided was like some kind of super emotional palliative. For someone whose emotions were as frayed as mine were, a normal palliative would have been ok. A super palliative became instantly addictive.
But a lot of prayer and confessions and internal work and a whole lot of meetings and support helped me recognize the danger signs, made me aware of my self-destructive patterns, and allowed me to come to a place where I could first help myself and then be of help to others.
Fifteen years later, I'm still fighting the obsession and compulsion, only this time it's with food. My stomach is stuffed with two days' worth of food I haven't wanted but haven't been able to stop eating. Greasy spoon Mexican is the gastronomic equivalent of crack. It's cheap, there's nothing good in it, it's ultimately damaging to your body's systems, but it gives some momentary pleasure, so you continue to do it. And do it. And do it. I had some guac in here that was brown when they brought it to me. I should have given it back to them. Instead, I ate half of it before tossing it. And it wasn't even tasty.
All of which are things I consider as I contemplate bariatric surgery. I've lost 68 lbs and, as I said, losing weight is not the issue. Keeping it off is the issue. As soon as I started looking almost normal, that obsession and compulsion came right back, and suddenly I couldn't control my eating any more. Even if I journaled, I just didn't care. It was like the disease of overeating had repossessed my soul I had to eat at all costs.
I've now gained back at least 60 of those lbs. THis is the third or fourth time in my life I can remember doing this. I can't go though it again. I'm gonna let them cut my stomach. I was praying about it, and remembered the scripture that says if your eye offends you, then pluck it out. Well, my stomach offends me -- it makes me sick on many levels -- and I'm going to have it cut out. I'd like a sleeve gastrectomy, but not sure insurance will pay for that. If they won't, I'll try for a Roux n-Y, but Proximal, which will, theoretically, allow me to not suffer the maladies of malabsorption (I won't lose my hair, I 'll get more vitamins). It's important to me to be able to work out -- to swim and to lift, and to max out on the bike. I'm thinking that if I can stay hydrated, get enough vitamins into me, and get enough protein into me, that I can do this. Maybe I'll go with the gel shots. Mauybe I'll invent some nutritional source and make a lot of money from bariatric patients and sports people.
At the end of the day, I want to walk upright and not waddle. I want to be tired from a monster workout, not from just the warmup. I don't want to have to take a needle and a dozen pills to keep my blood pressure and blood sugar, and cholesterol within normal limits. I don't want to have to use a machine and pills to sleep. God gave me a body that functions quite well, but I haven't been a very good steward of it. If I can do some damage control, repair it a bit, then maybe I can do a bit better with what's left.
So that's where I am. More about this later.
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