I’ve spent the last few days hitting the treadmill in an attempt to get into an exercise habit.  It’s been really enjoyable, which is something I wouldn’t have thought I would say about exercising.  I’m currently only doing 30 minutes a day, but in a month I hope to be up to two 30 minute sessions a day.  Normally I exercise in the morning, when I get up, but yesterday I did 30 minutes just before I went to bed to see whether it made a difference or not.

I haven’t slept so soundly in a long time.  It was great.  I won’t have a chance to do a late night session tonight so I’ve already done 30 minutes.  I’d like to keep a night time session, but I know myself well enough that if I don’t get it out of the way as soon as possible I’ll find an excuse not to do it later.  So while I’m in these early stages I’m not going to risk it.

I’ve moved on to solid foods, mostly mashed potato and baby food.  Yesterday I made egg salad in an attempt to mix it up a little and get some more protein.  I really enjoyed eating the egg, but it’s so frustrating.  I have two tablespoons and I’m full to bursting.  It’s the same with fluid at the moment.  A few mouthfuls in a row and it’s like I’m going to be sick.  I feel like I’m taking a slide backwards.

The frustration at not being able to eat a “normal” meal is also getting to me.  I try and think rationally about it, but when it’s happening it’s hard not to feel cheated.  I know this is something I chose, but sometimes it’s just so hard.  I don’t think any amount of talking with other patients, the doctors and the dietitians can prepare you for this.  Also, I guess everyone is different and different things turn out to be important at different times.  I never thought portion size would be an issue, in fact it was one of the things I was looking forward to; feeling full sooner.

I’ve also gotten into a really bad habit of weighing myself everyday.  It’s crazy and I shouldn’t be doing it.  Especially since my scales keep returning the same number for the past few days; no matter what time of the day I weigh myself.  It’s a risky move to be doing.  It’ll either inspire me to keep going or cause the wheels to come of my wagon.  I need to just wait patiently until Sunday.  But patience never was my strongest suit.

I’ve become addicted to cordial.  I seem to have reached my limit for plain water and now I taint nearly every glass with cordial.  I think cordial may be my new Coke Zero.  I used to drink up to three cans of Coke Zero a day prior to the operation.  In the two weeks on Optifast I cut down to one a day.  However in the summer heat I have found myself craving a Coke, especially when we’ve been at the movies.  They say to avoid fizzy drinks in the first four weeks, but I’m going to wait until my 40 days are up and even then I’m going to see if I can kick soda altogether.  Although, if I’m going to insist on drinking full strength cordial I really should do the math and see which one is “better” healthwise.

We’re heading to a NYE party tonight and as has become the custom I shall be taking my own food and drink supply.  It makes me feel like a freak to have to take my own food.  I hate standing out because of my size and now I stand out as well because I’m the fat girl that has to eat special food.  I hate it.  I wish I’d had the smarts to stay home, but the socializing will do me good.  I tend to get stuck in my own mental patterns otherwise and it’s a downward spiral.  I need to be focusing on the positives.  Like I managed to wear jeans I haven’t been able to wear in over a year.  Or the shirts I bought while on holiday can now actually be worn.  Or the fact that I went through and packed up to donate half my current wardrobe because it no longer fits (in a good way).  So many positives and I seem to be able to only see the negatives.  It’s crazy how the mind works.

I also seem to be thinking more about my early twenties and the things that I did then.  I had such a good time growing up.  I wouldn’t change any of it – well that’s not true.  I’d like to go back and smack my younger self upside the head for thinking I was massively overweight.  I wasn’t.  I was five kilos outside my goal weight.  I’d also like to warn myself about the perils of emotional eating before it really got out of hand.  But, hindsight is always 20/20 and if I hadn’t done those things I might not have met the wonderful man that is now my husband and that would have sucked.  (Understatement of 2009 there!)  But I digress, this summer is reminding me of those times.  The partying and the laughs.  I would love to have that again.  I was confident and outgoing and I feel like I’ve let my weight dictate my mental image which has seen me collapse in on myself.

I panic when we go out that I’ll run into someone who hasn’t seen me in a long time and have to watch the “man, you got big” look come into their eyes.  I’m reminded of a trip home I made when I was twenty kilos overweight and I ran into a guy I used to party with and he said to me “What happened to you? You used to be hot!”  It’s funny how that one encounter has stayed with me for so long and now I’m 60 kilos overweight.  Imagine what he’d say now!  Probably nothing.  People get scared of the fat.  When you’re a few kilos overweight they have no problem with calling you fat, really put on the pounds and they shut up.

That’s when you know you’re in trouble; when the silence comes.  People no longer comment on your appearance.  They gaze in wonder when they think you’re not looking, praying that it doesn’t happen to them.  I remember thinking when I was 19, “How do people let themselves get that big?  It’s not like you wake up one day and you’re fat.  Surely they can do something about it?”  Oh how those thoughts haunt me now.  It’s true you don’t wake up one day and think “Shit, I’m huge!”  You wake up everyday and think, “Man, I need to lose some pounds.  I’ll go on a diet.”  You make it through breakfast and then hit lunch and think, “Mmmm… those chips smell awesome.  I might just duck down to KFC, but I’ll only have the small.”  Then you’re at KFC and the kid behind the counter says “Would you like to upgrade for $1?” And you find yourself saying, “Sure!”  Before you know it you’re waking up again in a few months and thinking “Man, I need to lose some pounds.  I’ll go on a diet.”  Only this time you’re ten kilos bigger than last time.  And the cycle continues.  Before you know it you’re sitting in a Bariatric Surgeons office talking over the best way for them to surgically assist your fat ass to lose a few pounds.

The thoughts of “Man, I need to lose some pounds.  I’ll go on a diet” are replaced with “How did I let myself get to this stage?”  It’s hard not to feel like a freak when it comes to thinking about the surgery.  Sometimes I feel like I took the easy and lazy way out, then I think about the four weeks that are behind me and I wonder if I didn’t take the harder option.  But it’s no use dwelling on the past or the actions that have gotten me here.  I need to focus on the taking one day at a time and making that day count.  Which is a thousand fold easier to type than it is to do.