Back to the Basics

Over the past week, my life has resembled the travel scenarios from the movie "Planes, Trains and Automobiles". Needless to say, I am glad to be back at home with all my creature comforts. I experienced a lot of different emotions over the past week, and the following post is truly a jumbled collection of them all.

Part 1: Emotional Eating
This holiday season was my first since by WLS in January 2012, and it was definitely a learning experience. There were days where I ate really well. Then, other days when I ate okay with a few splurges. Prior to the holidays, I had done a lot of planning. Written down recipes, and even made a few low carb, sugar free mini cheesecakes to take with me to my family's home in Iowa. Yet, life happens, and in the middle of last week my 90 year old grandmother unexpectedly ended up in the hospital with a grim prognosis. I hastily left the Twin Cities and my well planned meals flew out the window. Once I arrived in Iowa, chaos ensued: a massive snow storm, power outages, my grandmother's surgery, hospital food, and high emotions. In the midst of the chaos, I realized how much I love Starbucks (due to its absence) and their lovely WLS friendly mochas. This was one of those situations where I once again realized that I still turn to food to cope with my emotions. For example, one night I bought an egg nog in the hospital cafeteria. I told myself that it was Christmas, and I could have this little splurge. I told myself I would use it instead of milk in my coffee. But, instead, I took a sip. It tasted so good, I took about five more sips. Thankfully, I was able to pull myself back out of the fog of delusion and throw the remaining amount away. And, sure enough, no more than ten minutes later, my heart was racing, I was dizzy, and hot - oh, so very hot. Dumping. Dumping. Dumping. Cause and effect - you eat something crappy, your body will react accordingly...

Part 2: Dealing with Physical Change and Going "Home"
For the past ten years, I have lived in Minneapolis. During this time, I have been heavy - very heavy to heavy. Just varying degrees of fat to put it bluntly. I have always struggled with going home to Iowa because the majority of people who once knew me, knew me as "normal sized" not morbidly obese. It was awkward to see people, I tended to keep my eyes down to avoid recognizing people - not wanted to say "hi" only to be met with looks of bewilderment, leading to my explaining who I was, etc. Now, I am struggling with the opposite. I look normal. I actually want to run into people. I want to see them. And, it makes me sad. It makes me sad to remember how much I would hide to avoid people. When I was home this time, I wanted to go out - hoping to run into my former classmates, friends, enemies - frankly anyone, just to say "hi." On the other hand, people who had known me want to know how much weight I have lost and talk about it. This is wonderful, but I also feel a lot of shame about how much I weighed. It's so odd - being so happy to look the way I do now, but yet, ashamed about my appearance over the last ten years.

Part 3: Guilt, Self Acceptance, and Worthiness of Love
My grandfather got remarried recently, about a year after my grandmother's death. In moving on with his life, he gave back all the family photos he had of his seven children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. This big box of photos was at my parent's house, and I had an opportunity to look at them during my time at home. These photos, many of which I had never seen, provided me an opportunity to look at myself over the past 32 years (through the eyes and lens of my grandparents' camera. Many of which were quite unflattering). Something very striking was how they provided an account of my weight struggles, the up and down throughout my childhood, then the up, up, up of adulthood. There was a full length photo of me after graduating from law school that took my breath away - because I looked so uncomfortably large. So swollen. So unhealthy. I don't remember being that big. I remember being fat, but not that fat. It was so painful to see. I really had a hard time to be recognizing myself. I also saw a photo of myself with my former fiance. My face looked so young, but again, didn't realize how large I was. (Even when I married my now husband, a few years back, I was huge.) How could he really love me? I kept asking myself. How could my current husband love me? I was huge, I was so big, I was so unworthy... how could these two men (former and current loves of my life) actually love "that version" of me? The answer, as difficult as it is for me to believe, is that they always could see me. The real me. Not just the exterior package. They loved me for who I was, not how big or small my pants were. They saw and loved what so many people could not see; what so many people looked past because of the packaging. And for that, I am truly thankful. They are better people than I ever have been. They loved me, even when I didn't love myself.