When we remember

I’ve been thinking a lot about my dad today. Tomorrow is Father’s Day – and he’s dead.

He died on January 20, 2016. This will be the third Father’s Day without him.

He didn’t particularly like Father’s Day – or his birthday – or really anything that focused on commemorating him. He just wasn’t that kinda guy. He was sentimental in his own way on his own terms but certainly not in traditional ways.

Thinking back about my childhood, teen years, and young adult hood I could always envision myself physically in a positive light. It wasn’t until I hit 30 that I realized and was cognizant of being morbidly obese’s because I never felt morbidly obese if that makes sense.

Then one afternoon I was at an air museum and there was an infrared exhibit that shows your body heat. I took my photo.

What I saw made me stop and catch my breath. I came face to face with my obesity.

I have been struggling ever since.

Struggling – still

(This was a place holder originally for June 1st)

Several times a day I say to myself-

“You can do this. Three pounds a week times 52 week is 156 pounds. It’s doable.”

I am then motivated for like seven seconds.


Break it up in five pound increments. That’s like 33 increments of 5 pound losses I guess.

I’m pissed off at myself. Seriously.

Am I running out of time

Am I running out of time?

I jumped on the scales this morning and it is not where I want it to be. I wanted it to be more. I’m counting calories. I’m trying to exercise.

I wonder if it’s too late for me. I wonder if all of the years of not eating right and abusing my body with food have just caught up to me.

Why can I not get my act together – I know I’m working hard at losing weight but it’s not coming off fast enough.

And let’s say even if I do get to be height weight appropriate how do I know that the damage I have done is reversible?

The reality is I don’t. I’m terrified of a heart attack, stroke, cancer or any one of those really awful traumatic things. I’ve already gone through trumatic thing and you would’ve thought two years ago when I had the opportunity to get my shit together I would’ve done it. But I didn’t.

I took almost 2 years of trying to heal as an excuse not to be serious about this weight loss. And so now my diabetes which is slowly getting under control is really kicking my ass. My anxiety is kicking my ass. I’m terrified of exercise and I need to do it. I am so frozen in fear that the idea of getting my heart rate up just paralyzes me. I panic all the time. I don’t know what to do. Sometimes it would be easier just not to eat.

I don’t even care if I’m pretty anymore. I just want to be strong. I want to be healthy. I want to watch my kid graduate from high school, college, grad school, – I want to watch him get married or partnered and I want to be a grandmother. I don’t want to be remembered as that fat woman who loved her family but just couldn’t get it together.

This feeling of isolation and loneliness is just overwhelming.

I have this fantasy of waking up tomorrow being height and weight appropriate, having body parts that work like they’re supposed to, and being strong. But that’s just a fantasy.

No one could’ve prepared me for the fact that getting older, staying healthy, and working to lose weight would be so fucking hard.

I feel like a huge disappointment to my family – just huge.

The no no list…

I’m a colostomy patient. What is that you might ask? That means that I’m missing a part of my colon or intestinal track. To allow my colon to rest they rearranged my intestines and brought my colon up to the left side of my waist and that’s how I now go to the bathroom – I’m known as a front crapper. I shit in a bag. My issue began as I had an undiagnosed disease called diverticulosis, and it became diverticulitis, and I had a perforation of my bowel. I went septic during this process and almost lost my life. I underwent a major surgery and woke up with a colostomy – the dreaded bag. Because my surgeon removed the damaged/diseased part of my large intestine called the sigmoid I was told I could now eat anything I wanted.

Not true. Big fat lie.

So I begin a list of things that didn’t digest well and cause me issues which I have deemed my no-no list. In no particular order-

  • Pizza
  • Mushrooms
  • Pineapple chunks
  • Fresh vegetables of any kind
  • Any fruit or vegetable with a skin
  • Popcorn
  • Hi fiber foods
  • Sautéed green beans
  • Fibrous meats
  • Any food that is not thoroughly chewed

So right now I’m working through a partial bowel blockage which really sucks. Sigh. I’m not sure when I’m gonna have the sucker reversed but I’m really working on becoming height and weight appropriate first.

Universe cut me a break…

Even though I realize I did this to myself.

I’m in this vicious cycle.

Morbidly obese.

Joints, body, bones, hurt all.the.time.


Blood sugar levels suck.

Colostomy due to diverticulitis.

No motivation/fear/shame of exercise.

Even though I realize I did this to myself.

My food choices are super limited. No raw fruits or vegetables. They get stuck.

The foods that digest the best are high in carbs and cause my blood sugar to sky rocket.

So let me run down my list.

No more dairy.

No more sugar.

No more refined white flour.

No more alcohol.

Low glycemic/carbs.

No more fresh/raw fruits and vegetables.

No nuts or seeds.

No more chocolate.

No caffeine.

What else is there to break up with?

sad. frustrated. mad.

I don’t pretend to have all of the answers.

Weight loss is probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever attempted to do. There’s nothing pretty about it. There certainly isn’t anything easy about it. And you know what, it’s not even fulfilling. Yes, yes, yes, I get the whole you feel better, look better, and are healthier when your thin. But being thin doesn’t just hit me up my core or somehow uplift my soul.

It’s just one of those things that I can no longer ignore and it’s something I have to do. I can make all the excuses in the world about why am fat but the reality is it’s my responsibility I’m this way. It’s my fork I left to my mouth too much. It’s my bad choices I make. And again, I can whine, cry, and kvetch about unfairness of it all. However, The reality is I eat too much, it’s a fact of life, it’s impacting my health physically and emotionally, and it’s time to stop making excuses and do something about it.

As I’ve read hundreds of blogs, weightless journals, and self help books about weight loss it seems like the easy part is the actual investment of time to get to the goal weight that’s appropriate for your body. The hard part is making it a lifestyle choice and keeping the weight off.

I continue to screw around with my brain and I hear things in my head like:

If I could only lose 50 pounds I would have that much more energy and exercise every day. Well that’s bullshit and I know it. I’ve become sedentary just like most of America – and I’d rather sit on my ass, watch TV, play on my iPad, talk on the phone and get up and go for a walk.

If I had someone to cook for me and just put the food I’m supposed to eat in front of me then everything will fall into place. That’s bullshit too – I know myself and as I drive past any fast food place my car can find a drive-through like a heroin addict can find a fix. A Chef can fix three meals a day but what about the rest of the hours in a day.

I just have to want it enough. Fuck that shit. I want to be thin just as badly as the next fat person I know.

I just continue to hear things like if I had, if I could only, etc. etc.

Bottom line is I’m going to have to deny myself shit I like to eat. Going to have to find a new way of eating. I’m going to have to get up and try to move regardless of how painful it is. And I’m going to have to endure very well-meaning people making all kinds of comments that are not helpful about how I need to go about doing this, not giving up, etc. etc. etc..


The one thing I do know is that this is really overwhelming. Take your number one fear, insecurity, or phobia that makes you just feel incredibly overwhelmed and times that by about 1000 and dunk yourself in it, and that’s how it feels to me when I think about losing weight. I don’t know where to start.

I want…

We all have wants, desires, dreams, goals…

  • Walk. I want the ability to walk my ass all over any place anywhere without pain, limping, hobbling, or fear of falling over.

  • To stand in line for an hour if I have to without burning, pain, or cramping anywhere.

  • To sit in a movie seat comfortably.

  • To sit in the backseat of anyone car and use the seat belt without fear of it not buckling

  • To fit comfortably in any plane seat and not use an extender belt.

  • To use the tray table on a plane.

  • To fit into a booth at a restaurant.

  • To exercise comfortably at the gym.

  • The ability to go from sitting to standing without pain.

  • The ability to stand and cook in the kitchen, blow dry my hair, etc..

  • To ride in a car, garden, perform housework, have energy…

To do all of of those things everyone else seems to be able to do that I can’t.

That’s what I want.

This is overwhelming.

My message from the universe today

I get these very cool messages from the universe- and this is the one I got today and damn I really needed it.

There will always be people in your life, who hold you back, who cost you too much, and who fail to see all you’ve done for them. But, of course, they’re just there to teach you that you do have time, that you’ll always be rich, and that your own high standards are all that matter.

You knew that,

The Universe