Archive for May, 2009

They’re out there, somewhere…

Summer, ohhh summer, it is here. It is hot as hell. The a/c in my car doesn’t work. Hooray!

Instead of toning up for a “summer/beach figure”, I’ve fluffed up a bit. Yup. My guess is I’ve gained like 15 pounds. Everyone says I’ve “settled” where I need to be. And you know what? Fuck that. Because I am not comfortable here.

So what do I do? I don’t know. This is the point, post-op, where there are no more answers. You get so far out that no one can help you anymore. You’re supposed to know everything. Like graduating from college. Here’s your diploma! Now, go away. I’m getting the feeling that I will never know how to be an A+ WLS patient. My head is still in fat land. I still have the urge to eat like everyone else and/or eat like a total moron more than I should.

Soo here we are. I did the Last Diet Ever. I can/will never diet again, sure. But the way we have to eat is like a diet. I’m still trying to find my way around in the dark. And right now I feel really alone. To complain/sound whiny/bitch and moan. But I’m 2 years out and don’t know anyone else out there who is where I am, or close to my age, or whatever. I know they’re out there.

Where, though? is kind of dead now. At least, I don’t really relate to anyone there anymore. Is it too much to ask to find people my age who are past the whole “omg this is amaaazing I’m losing 10 pounds a week!” stage? I dunno.

Oh well. Other news? I’m going to the beach next week. Looking forward to it, yes. Even though I turn red like a lobster EVERY single time I go, no matter how much spf 75 I roll around in. But it’s my first “not hugely fat” trip. So it should be interesting. I might make the children cry with my batwings and legjiggle and such. But who cares? It’s my vacation. And I have a cute suit.


May 29, 2009 at 11:44 pm Leave a comment

Blah blah blah.

Okay, so here’s what I think.

I think that Celexa is making me fat.

I think eating like a shithead with a bottomless pouch for carbs is also making me fat.

I think looking at pizza on other people’s plates is making me fat.

Watching the Food Network/Good Eats is making me fat.

Really. I want to sit in a sweatbox for a month and stop letting all this life crap make me gain weight. I am terrified to actually stand on the scale and look at it myself. It’s pathetic: I got my boyfriend to memorize what I weigh. I don’t want to know. I know I’ve gained probably 10-15 pounds. Which is a lot in a little time. And enough to scare me shitless. After the RNY “honeymoon” is over…we’re on our own. I’m catching myself. I refuse to buy bigger sizes. I swore I would never have to buy a bigger size, ever. But right now I’m having muffin-tops that rival those giant ones at Costco.

I’m so over this pity party, almost. I was supposed to go to see Death Cab this week and I ended up having panic attacks and sleeping in bed instead. My childhood dog had to be put to sleep yesterday. None of my cute clothes fit. Wah, wah, wah. Life.

I’m just ready to live again. I want something to make me laugh. I should probably stop watching Six Feet Under so much.

May 9, 2009 at 12:18 am 1 comment


Griffin H. Bat was very, very fat. She had WLS in 2007 and has gone from 314 pounds to 120ish, and often wonders where her mind went along with all that gooey adipose matter. Even with new guts, she still thinks about cupcakes and their confectionary goodness. She feels like a bear that has lost its stuffing, but she won't hesitate to tell you how lovely you are.