I'm back, in two ways.
1. Back on my blog.
2. Back to my original starting weight.
Thank you to all of you who have written to check-in with me during these past few months. I'm sorry that I haven't been around to be supportive of your journeys.
I have found myself laying in bed late at night writing my next blog post- for the past TWO months. After starting to go up, Up, UP on the scale, I think there has been a part of me that was too embarrassed to get on here and admit failure. After all, I DID have weight-loss surgery. SURGERY! Sigh.
I wake-up EVERY morning vowing to start anew, but go to bed every night BEGGING our glorious LORD to please help me.
Besides my husband deciding to start a new career path, after putting almost 11 years of school into his current career, I really have no sources of new stress. Albeit, my husband's mid-life crisis (apparently he's not going to live past the age of 70) is definitely stressful, I SHOULD be able to manage my life efficiently, incorporating healthy eating and exercising into my schedule. How was THAT for a run-on sentence!?!?
After getting down to an all-time adult-low of 220, I am back up to 285. In less than 8 months! Is that even possible? Back in November, when my band had to be set free for a while, I decided to go on vacation with her. But instead of her returning after only a week away, she stayed away for two months due to my esophagus swelling to a dangerous size. It all went down hill from there. In that time, ALL of my old behaviors came tumbling back.
Around 260 pounds, my foot started hurting pretty badly, grounding me from jogging. Now, at 285, the podiatrist has said that the pads that are between my toes and the connection point to my foot- at the first MP joints- are torn. So, I am stuck in a catch 22. Exercising is extremely painful, so I HAVE to get some of this weight off to finally induce some healing.
My feet hurt. My knees hurt. I have fat rolls where I've never had fat rolls before. I am thoroughly depressed and discouraged. I am hot all of the time. I don't run and play with my boys anymore. I don't fit into cars comfortably. I don't enjoy my husband touching me again. I don't, I don't, I don't.
I need to start living my life again! Last summer, at 220 pounds, I felt like a whole new person! My life was so different in so many ways. If I listed all of the benefits of being at that healthier weight, I would be here at the computer for two weeks.
I have decided to contact a new surgeon on Monday in hopes that he will put some saline into my band (only after being fully informed about my history of course). At this point, I am willing to enlarge my esophagus if that means that I will live past the age of 45!