Monday, February 6, 2012

~What WLS Didn't Do~

This has been a very tough post for me to write.  The thoughts, feelings, swirling has been more than I care to admit.  This post is for me more than it is for anyone else.  If you happen to get something out of it; great.  If not, as I said...it is more for me more than anyone else. I hope and pray that one day I can look back and have the same thoughts/feelings that the young lady I will link to in this post has about herself.

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A fellow blogger and trauma momma wrote a blog post today that didn't settle so well with me.  Let me be sure to point out....I love her post. I think it is awesome on all LEVELS.  It just didn't sit well w/in my own personal self....thus the reason for this post.  Over the last several hours, I've started to email Christine and then deleted it.  I've started this blog post and then deleted it.  Rinse and repeat about 20 times. 

Yet everytime I go back and read her post, I get something different from it.  Something that hits a very raw wound with in myself.  I try very hard to not think of myself as broken.  The broken mantra has been brought up in therapy several times.  Often J* tell me she thinks that I have this mindset.  Often I think to myself she must be crazy because I've never made this comment to her; nor do I think about it.  I understand where she is coming from in her theme with this.  Yet, when I read this blog post I can't help but think and feel broken. 

When I had gastric bypass 7.5 years ago, they gave me all the tools that I needed to loose weight.  I had nutritional appts, psych appts, surgical appts,  group support, and all that jazz.  I attended every single support group meeting AND was a SPEAKER at several of them over the course of a 2-3 year span of time pre and post op.    Sure, I was given the tools to keep the weight off, kind of.  What was never addressed was how I went from being 135 lbs to 330 lbs. And when I went back down to 145 lbs....everyone freeked the hell out!!  I was dx with anorexia.  I was hospitalized for anorexia.  It wasn't until that low point in my life....was anything EVER addressed in the realms of how I went from 135 lbs to 330 lbs to 140 lbs.  The tools at that point were to medicate me.  And that began an even larger battle...a 5-6 year battle.  I'm no longer 140 lbs.  I've gained a ton of weight back.  The negative self-dislike (hate) for my body is off the charts.

I learned from this experience it was better to stuff those things that got me to 330 lbs.  My current battle with my self esteem is as raw and broken as it ever has been.  There, I said it...broken!  You can say distorted or whatever you wish. 

Telling myself:  The truth is: you are sexy.
By: WelcomeToMyBrain.net ....is really stinking hard.  It is all I can do to be present and accepting of my body during a massage let alone feel sexy or anything else.  I dont' look at myself in the mirror other than to blow my hair dry. Having sex repulses me on so many different levels (some abuse related and some pure self hate for my own body).  I can't tell you the last time I looked at my butt.  Dear Lord, taking a picture of my butt...just thinking about it makes me physically ill. 

I've rambled. I know that this post is all over the place.  The moral of the story (remember this is for me) is:  Trauma sucks, abuse sucks, I know first hand how loosing weight will not change the the disorted (broken), stinking thinking.  OI!  Do I ever. 

I also know...it is high time that the issues need to be addressed.  I've attempted to change my thoughts around Christine's theme of Sexuary.  My dh and I've had several conversations over the last few weeks on this very topic.  And it all comes back to the core issues at hand.


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