Everyone is entitled to a good cry now and again. We all
have them. You know the one I’m talking about, too - the ugly cry. Where your
eyes are puffy the rest of the day and your face is red and blotchy. The “I just
watched ‘The Notebook’ ugly cry.” When I began to document this journey on my
blog, I promised you the good, bad and the ugly. Well, I had an ugly cry today.
Twice in fact. All before 9:30 am. and it lived up to its descriptor (Ryan
Gosling and Rachel McAdams not included.) It. Was. Ugly.
(Depending on how you
know me and how long you have known
me, this news will either confirm what you know about me or shock you as I fall
into one of two categories for people that know me- I cry all the time (as in
when I was in elementary school) or I never cry (as in something
happened to me in adulthood and I became a person who doesn’t even cry when
most people cry. It’s weird.) But it is who I am and I have no in between,
really.
First, let me just say, I’m not asking for your sympathy.
Everyone cries, I understand that. Everyone has bad days, and in reality, the
reason I ugly cried will sound ridiculous to some of you. Heck, it would
normally sound ridiculous to me. You all have been amazing to me over this
journey and your support has meant so much to me, and while I appreciate even
the thought of your sympathy for my crying today, spare me. Your sympathy is
not what I need right now.
Today I had my six-month post-gastric sleeve checkup, and
never could I have ever imagined that losing weight would make me feel like a
complete and utter failure. But I do. (Hence, the ugly cry.)
First of all, I will tell you that I had some anxiety about
this doctor’s visit. I didn’t sleep well last night and I’ve been dreading this
visit for a couple of weeks. Why, you ask? Well, I don’t get on the scale too
often, but when I did over the last couple of months, I noticed my weight
wasn’t going down the way it once was. I was stalled. So I tried to push that
out of my mind—sometimes I can compartmentalize like a dude (sorry fellas), and
I apparently did. I just buried it on down somewhere and chose not to deal with
it. I knew the reasons why the weight wasn’t coming off like it had been, but I
pushed them down deep into a place in my brain I don’t visit often. And I
convinced myself that everything was fine. But it wasn’t.
So here goes… the reason for the ugly cry is that in three
months, I have only lost four pounds. And that, according to my doctor, is a
complete failure and I have done poorly. I have “reverted back to the same bad
habits that got me here in the first place.” And as much as I hate to say it,
he is right. (Ugh, that tasted like vinegar just typing it.) He’s right. That’s
why I was compartmentalizing it. I knew I wasn’t doing things right. I knew I
had lost focus. And I knew this doctor’s appointment would be the day of
reckoning.
Now, before I ugly cry again, let me say that losing four
pounds in 3 months is MUCH better than gaining any weight. (Well, not according
to my doctor; he said it is the same as gaining and the four pounds doesn’t really
count. But I can guarantee I would have cried a heck of a lot more had I gained
some weight.)
And after nearly 12 hours of processing this and feeling sorry
for myself, I know that this is all going to be okay. I know that I will be okay. And I get it. I have lost a lot of weight—70 pounds!!!! If anyone
would have told me that a year ago I would not have believed them. So what’s
the problem??? Statistics show that the weight you lose from months 3-9
indicate how successful you will be going forward. So what about the first 3 months? According
to the doctor, “it’s easy to lose weight the first 3 months because we cut out
your stomach,” so going back after 3 months and having only lost 4 pounds in 3
months is a failure. And if I stay on this track, I will have failed at this
surgery. But more importantly, I will have failed myself. So, while I was
considering it a huge success that for the first time EVER in my life I didn’t
gain weight from Thanksgiving until New Year’s, I actually failed. Miserably.
And the sad part is, deep down, I knew it. I didn’t need my doctor to tell me
that.
And sure, I have excuses. Always do. Excuses are what got me
here in the first place. But instead of giving you excuses, dear friends, I
will give you the reasons why I have let this happen. I’ve actually known them
all along—remember, I buried them deep in my brain!) Today, I was forced to
confront them. And I confronted them with an ugly cry.
So, let me outline the reasons (not excuses) for this “poor
performance”:
- I got lazy with the food prep: this gets me every time. We’ve got people going all over the place in our house – sports, school, work, sometimes travel for work and I’ve been focusing on making exercise a part of my regular life and some days I feel lucky just have gotten dressed and out the door on time. So yep, I got lazy with the food prep. And I grabbed what was in the fridge. And I didn’t always grab the right thing. And chips. So… chips.
- I totally forgot I had a nutritionist at my disposal… How could I have forgotten this? That’s what she is there for. DUH!!! I was struggling with the right things to eat and a nutritionist was there for me the whole time. As I have reflected on this, I know exactly why I forgot about the nutritionist. It’s because I associate everyone and everything in that office with the doctor- and I want to see him as little as possible. So I put the nutritionist out of my mind. Also, I thought I could do this myself. “Hahhahaha! Yet again, Dawn, you can’t do it by yourself, you silly fool!” And to answer your question, yes, I’m going to see the nutritionist.
- I found the candy bucket: “My stomach is small, so a little small piece of candy won’t do any harm, will it?” Yes, Dawn, yes it will. (Of course, one little piece of candy every once in a while doesn’t hurt anything. But it adds up. And I’m proof.) Result? I have given up candy for lent. ☺
- I convinced myself that what I was doing was enough: “You are exercising, so you can have a couple of French fries or a cookie at night. Or a small piece of cake. The exercise will take care of it.” No, it won’t. If I eat that way, I will NOT lose weight. PERIOD.
- I convinced myself that exercising was going to take care of it: One bright note in all of this is my exercise habit. I will say that I am very proud of my exercise regime. I am exercising 4 days a week (usually 5) and I don’t hate it. But exercising isn’t enough. And I know that. It seems I was so focused on patting myself on the back for exercising that I lost focus on the other stuff- like making good food choices. And … chips.
- I didn’t make smart food choices: see candy bucket, chip consumption and cake confession above.
- I had no goal: for me, I think this might have been the biggest one. I need a goal to work toward. Since surgery, my doctor hasn’t given me a goal. He’s said vague things like “everyone loses at different rates, so you might lose anywhere from 70-80 percent of your excess body weight within a year.” I thought I was doing so well the first 3 months that I would just keep on going and would eventually get to a goal. But I needed a tangible GOAL in MEASURABLE terms. I don’t deal with “excess body weight percentages” or even BMI. I deal with and understand pounds!! And that’s what I have needed.
And
this last reason is a tough pill to swallow, but the truth always is…
· Hubris
(simply put, I got cocky): here I am, losing so much weight, so quickly.
Looking good. Got some new clothes (I just bought a large shirt y’all, a
LARGE!!!) 😃 Getting
so many compliments, and I got cocky. “Sure, I can have a glass of wine. Just
one won’t hurt.” WRONG! (insert your favorite Donald Trump WRONG meme here.) I
gave myself permission that I could,
but that certainly didn’t mean that I should.
Now pride is a good thing. But hubris is a
dangerous thing. Ultimately, it’s what killed Walter White on Breaking Bad. (If you are a regular
reader of my blog, you know I consider that to be one of the best shows ever
made.) Sure turning into a drug kingpin didn’t do him much good, but his hubris
– his overwhelmingly excessive pride and self-confidence that he wouldn’t get
caught -- is ultimately what killed him. He had more than enough money to
ensure his family was taken care of, but his pride at making the best meth and
taking control of the entire meth ring was what ultimately led to his death. Come
to think of it, it was a major character flaw for Don Draper on Mad Men also. (well that, alcohol and
being a sexist womanizer.) Damn! Did I
not learn anything from Walter White and Don Draper??!?!?!?!
Of course I realize these examples are a
bit dramatic, but are an example of how excessive pride can impact you to the
point of no return. That, and I always seem to find flawed male TV characters
oddly relatable.)
So that’s it. That’s why I ugly cried. (Truthfully, I still
may again one more time today.) And ’m not mad at my doctor- well, I still kind
of am because he is a complete a$$hole, but I’m really mad at myself more than
anything. But I guess I had to learn the hard way—seems that is always the
case, huh?
But after today I will move on. I will hit the reset button.
My husband reminded me in all of this blubbering ugly crying that every journey
is filled with bumps, detours and sometimes even crashes along the way. And
that’s what this is, just a bump and a slight detour. It’s definitely not a
crash.
And as we always tell our kids when they have a bad day—the best
thing about tomorrows is that you can start over. You can hit the reset button.
So that’s what I’m going to do. Because I can. In the end, Walter White couldn't do that.
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