I will start from the beginning. Food. I don't know where I learned to love it, but I know where I learned to find comfort in it. Growing up in an abusive household, rice cereal, fried potatoes and pancakes and fried chicken were always the 3a.m. peace offering. Food was how I knew it was over and my mother would be ok, and my little mind could rest and my heart could begin beating at a normal pace.
That mind frame followed me through childhood. I was never physically abused, but emotionally and mentally I was battered, not to mention the teasing and bullying I endured by other children. I reached for food to find that feeling of peace--always hoping it would be over...On top of all that emotional mumbo-jumbo, I really love food. I love to cook, feed others--I have a impressive palate and love how food can change things.
At 29 years of age, I refused to allow myself to be a victim of "fatness" anymore. My knees hurt, I developed asthma and found out that I had severe sleep apnea. The final straw (at 356lbs.), was laying beside my "special friend" with that whack ass c-pap mask trying to be sexy, lol. I might-as-well have been wearing a friggin' sweaty jockstrap! Well, that's how it felt to me. Then, while car shopping with friends, I tried squeezing through cars and knocked the mirror off of a car (sorry).
Since surgery 10 months ago (March 2009), I have lost 145lbs total. I think I'm cute now. Shopping was therapy for me before, but now it's a indescribable feeling to be able to shop in the Women's and even Junior's section. I can run upstairs, or on the treadmill without turning colors, and that mask--is somewhere rotting (I hope). WLS changed my life, while I changed my mind. I would do it again, and again, and again...
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