Update - with face pic + Notes on depression

First, a few quick updates on how things are going. I seem to be recovering very slowly. I have regressed a little as far as exercise goes, but I think that is mainly due to the way I have been feeling, but I also blame the god-awful humid Florida “Spring”. I am sick almost all of the time. I am dizzy every time I stand up or bend over. I have not been getting the nutrients or the water that I need and that is mainly because there is simply not enough room in me for it all. Ideally, I should have a 2 oz. breakfast, a protein shake, a 4 oz. lunch, a protein shake, and a 4 oz. dinner. I usually get in about 6 oz. a day total and I never get a protein shake in at all. The nausea after I eat is so overwhelming that I sometimes throw a portion of what I eat right back up. Also, I should be drinking plenty of water and taking my medications between all of this. There is no way. I often miss medications because of nausea. Every time I eat or drink I feel nauseated. It is discouraging and scary, but I trust that it is a phase that will pass eventually.

I can say with some degree of certainty that I have lost some weight. I cannot guess how much exactly since I still do not have a functioning scale, but I can wear an actual pair of jeans now. Also, more clothes that didn't fit before do now and it is a pretty great feeling. I will get to weigh in at my next doctor’s appointment, which is in one week. I am afraid that I will not have lost very much because I am fairly sure that my body has entered “starvation mode.” Many people in my online support group have upped their calories and been able to break weight-loss stalls.

I have noticed so many issues that I have to deal with somehow. I have to get over my self-hatred. Even after a 76 pound (at last weigh-in) loss I still look in the mirror when I am doing my make-up and literally feel like I am putting make-up on a pig. Now that there is less fat on my face I can see some of my features and I hate them all. My nose, my chin, my eyes, my general facial structure; I hate it all. I will never look the way that I want to look. I will never feel beautiful. I have posted progress pictures on my Facebook page and have gotten many positive responses – people telling me that I am looking good and that I look beautiful. For a moment it makes me feel good about myself, and then I am ashamed. I decide that they are only saying these things because they are nice people – that they are lies. It is insane. Depression is killing me. I thought that after surgery everything would be okay – it’s not. If anything it has highlighted my issues for me.

This brings me to my main point for this post – my after-school special, “the more you know” main point. Weight-loss is not a cure for depression. And actually, it goes way beyond weight-loss. I know that I have a few people that I care about that read this blog (thank you), and I want to stress this point to them specifically. If you are having issues, deal with them now before they become too much to handle. I am still not sure whether or not I can actually deal with all of this – I hope so, but I don’t know. Before I had this surgery I fought the depression really hard. I had a counselor that I was seeing (that I have stopped seeing because basically he sucked), I had medication...I fought hard but I felt like it was all for naught if I didn't lose weight. I thought the surgery was my only hope to lose the amount of weight that I needed to lose (I still stand by that). But I also thought that post-op all of this would just, I don’t know, melt away like the fat. As if the depression were stored in the fat cells and would go away as I lost weight; it hasn't and it won’t. The physical stress on my body right now has made my depression worse, in a way.

An example:
My mother died a few years ago. She had multiple organ failures and I watched her slowly decay away; a woman who loved life and laughed so much. One of the ways that I was told I would know that her “time was near” was her appetite. Her birthday was in February and I brought her her absolute favorite pie in the hospital. She ate a good, healthy slice of it. By Mother’s Day, when I brought her another, she had one small bite which she visibly did not enjoy. She tried to pretend that she enjoyed it for my sake. She died on May 19th, about a week later.

I feel this way. I don’t want to eat. Food mostly doesn't taste great to me. I suffer when I do eat. I keep wondering – is this my time? Is it getting close? Is that what this means? Should I just stop trying and save myself the pain? I ask myself these questions every day. I know that the reason these questions come up is likely very acute depression. I do not think this surgery will kill me, but I often wonder if the depression will – and that has always been a danger for me. No matter how fat or skinny I am, as long as this dragon that is depression is breathing down my neck I will always be in danger. And finally, that is my point – if you are battling your own dragon, slay it and try to get on with life. Stop ignoring it, stop pushing it aside, stop hoping that it will go away when things get better because as long as the depression is there things won’t get better. Sure, you may manage to get a promotion, find a girl/guy friend, or lose or gain weight but you’ll still feel like shit. And think of how much easier achieving those goals, whatever they are, will be without depression sludging up your brain.

The pic on the left is me at my highest weight (601);
the pic on the right is about a week ago.