August 10, 2017

I've decided to name my pouch. I've been googling to see what names might work.

I'm leaning toward Marge. As in "large Marge, in charge".

I'm transitioning to regular foods. So far, not terrible, but I'm being careful. Veggies seem to be an absolute no no. I have not eaten veggies successfully. Total puke fest.

I can eat meats carefully, cheese, avocados, tomatoes, every fruit that I've attempted so far.

So Marge hates veggies. Bad Marge.


August 8, 2017

The last week has been rough for several reasons. One thing I was not prepared for in this process was losing like crazy the first few weeks after surgery, then it stopping for 3 weeks.

When you've failed really hard repeatedly in one area of your life, you come to expect failure in that area. Regardless of what measures I've taken, my internal expectation is failure. I'm afraid to fully hope for success.

Yesterday, the scale went down two pounds. Today, it went down another pound and a half. I'm so relieved.

I'm still in the game.

I didn't really realize how terrified I was of failing. Even to the point of being sure I would ultimately fail. But today, I'm back in.

The weird part is that my body changed significantly over the past three weeks. I could look in the mirror and see changes throughout my body, but that scale doesn't lie. Or does it?

This week, I started having trouble keeping my wedding rings on. No change on the scale for 3 weeks, but I had to continually push my rings back on my finger after moving my hands, and almost slung them off several times. It was time to put them away.

That's one of many changes.

But my fear and doubt in myself in this process screamed louder and louder till the scale started moving again.

This is a major emotional process. It's exciting, and scary, and is exposing my deepest insecurities that pertain to my weight and about my ability to ultimately win this battle.

There's so much riding on this to work.

Today, I'm back in the game, though.