Bread In My Ears

Weight: 184.0 lbs.

…and pudding for brains.

I was reading some old magazine in a waiting room recently and found a great article written by a foodaholic who although she never gained to really fat, had a lot of the same issues that the rest of us who struggle with weight do. She eloquently described how when she is at a restaurant and there is a basket of bread between her and whoever she is with, she can’t concentrate on a word that is being said. She becomes completely obsessed with the bread, and either must eat it all, or is rendered deaf by its presence.

I laughed when I read this, but totally can relate. If there is food available to me nearly anywhere, and especially carby things like bread or snacks, I am vitually incapable of taking my mind off its availability. I either must be eating it, staring at it, or planning how to get at it. I can’t ignore it until it is either gone, or I am stuffed to the gills with either it or something else. It is like being possessed by food or being in a Peanuts cartoon where when people talk in too close a proximity to the desired item, they begin to sound like “whah whah whah whah” and are drowned out by the sound of carbohydrates going” EAT ME!!!!”. And this hasn’t changed no matter how much my anatomy got fiddled with and “mutilated”. My brain, unfortunately, remains the same, and has the same too large or active of a food center as it always has.

And I still have no idea what the “cure” or remedy is for this. Except perhaps a lobotomy and I don’t think this is either viable or legal. Darn it.

So, I am left with most of the same issues and struggles that existed before stomach tampering. Except that perhaps I can’t quite fit as much in. Even when I stupidly try.

 Not yet, anyway.

Making a compelling case for the fact that I should have “worked the program” more from the get go, learned new techniques for dealing with the real issues, and addressed the underlying addictions through whatever means apparently were available to me.

But, I didn’t. And now I weigh about 120 less pounds, but continue to have a fat mind or “bread head.”  And myself to blame, and clearly much more work to do if I hope to even stay where I am weight wise. While I am looking over my shoulder at those who purport to have done much better than I have with their cravings and their addcitions and their weight loss and their issues. Those who have now run marathons and embraced active and athletic lifestyles and who use words like “never again” and “so many pounds gone FOREVER” and who have never looked back. And who may think that I am a numnut and a failure and a bariatric antichrist and a bad influence  to those who are trying to actually be successful and do the right thing.

And to all of this, I say that I never meant to represent the masses, to credit the field or stand behind the choice to have the surgery at all. I am simply one who has had it, and who has written from my own perspective and journey, where I am at with it each step of MY way. Which may or may not be YOUR way, or even remotely approximate the RIGHT way. And try as I might and despite amazing feedback and support here and elsewhere in the cyber world, I haven’t yet figured out either just what this “right” way is, or how to embrace it as I should. Mostly the latter, I think.

Largely because I continue to have bread and other goodies ringing in my ears.

And, with this having been said, tomorrow will remain my last blogging day, and it is with a mixture of resignation and sadness and relief and apprehension that I say this. I will post final pictures and try to sum up my journey, as well as say goodbye as best I can. For which I say: “ Sniff, yippee, sigh and hooray.”

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