Neigh


Today I discovered that I’m a horse. I am no longer a human, I am a little pony. Seriously, neiiiiggggh. I hope that’s the sound horses make. Anyway, the reason I discovered I was a horse, was because I get bored easily. I like to have something occupy my attention constantly, and when I don’t, I turn to food. Food is something that occupies my brain, my tongue and me in general.

I graze. I’m a horse, and I graze on food all day to keep me from getting bored. I’ve decided from here on out, that I will visit my local dollar town and buy some crossword puzzles, and glitter paint, to do some arts and crafts all day.

Grazing has kept me from losing my weight quicker than most people. After my 6 month checkup yesterday, it seems as though, snacks I thought were healthy, were in fact terrible for me. I was grazing on seeds like a stupid koala bear. These seeds cost me 1000 calories PER DAY. My normal caloric intake is supposed to be less than that. I’ve learned that seeds should be eaten in two year old form, and basically, I just can’t eat a whole bag in an entire week.

It feels so freeing that I can admit to being a grazing horse. No more seeds for me.

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My Constant Battle


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Obviously with weight loss surgery, comes struggles and battles. Battles such as, losing weight in general, learning to love yourself, making the right choices, not going to restaurants etc. Right now, my biggest battle is dealing with that dreadful question that every person asks me. Showing off my weight loss, and broadcasting it for the world to see, I am clearly asking for questions, and remarks etc, but sometimes, that one question just brings me down.

“How many pounds are you down?”. Why does everyone care about the number of pounds? To be honest, the number of pounds lost, is the least important part of the whole journey. We’re trained to think that the number lost is the most important part of a persons weight loss journey.  If you want to ask important questions, and receive positive replies from me, or anyone losing weight for that matter, you can ask questions like: “do you feel good about yourself?” , “are you happy?” , “do you notice a difference?”, other questions and comments about how great I look and how beautiful I am are really appreciated as well. While my weight loss number may not have changed in the last month, my pant size has decreased, and my confidence level has increased. The scale is an evil tool that really only helps in bringing you down. Why should we care about the number? What’s so important about it? If I’m getting on the scale, and notice that I’ve lost two pounds, I’m going to treat myself, because I’ve lost. Had I not known about this little two pound weight loss, I would have continued on my merry little way and not treat myself to any treats. I’ve gone from the morbidly obese category, to just plain obese. That is HUGE! That’s an accomplishment in itself.

I personally feel that whenever someone asks me how many pounds I lost, I get discouraged. In my mind I think, “only xxx pounds lost in 6 months?, that’s terrible, you could have done so much better”. But I know that when I look at pictures, and when I see myself in the mirror, it’s more than just the number. Muscle weighs more than fat, and if I’m going to the gym 4+ times a week, obviously my weight loss will be less than a person who wouldn’t be working out.

Maybe some people don’t know, maybe it doesn’t bother anyone, but personally I think that this “number” is really an unimportant part of the whole process. I am proud to say that I am happy where I am. I am proud with how far I’ve come, and I’m proud to say that I’ve met my goals. I may be taking my time, but at least I can proudly say that I haven’t gained a single pound in six months!

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6 months post op. Side shot.

A Poem


Today is a tough day.

I want the pounds to go away.

I know that water is my friend

But I want Diet Pepsi until the end.

Snacks are always staring at me,

Always asking- “will you please eat me”

k I’m done, but seriously, I’m having a tough time again. Stuck in the same place, and I find myself grazing all day like a rabid horse. I wish they sold dog muzzles for humans so I could lock my mouth up all day. It’s also too bad that food tastes so delicious, I have to tough it out. I will beat food.

 

A Note To Skinny Parents With Overweight Children


Dear parents of overweight children,

While you may think that telling your plump child not to take a bite of that delicious ice cream cone, I urge you to think about the words that are coming out of your mouth, and the consequences they may hold. I myself came from a place where I was always told no (Mom, I’m not mad at you, don’t take it personally- this is strictly for entertainment purposes, and I love you)

I will do my best to prepare a list of things us plump kids hate the most:

1) Do not, I repeat do not, lift our pants up to our chins, and stretch our shirts down to our knees. While you may think we look absolutely marvelous, and slim, we actually look like moronic buffoons. Pants are supposed to be worn at waist level, not boob level, and unless I’m buying a dress, a shirt should be worn just above my pants, and not down to my knees. If you want us to dress like we belong in the circus for overweight children, please dress us in moomoos and tie dye tights.

2) If I want that cheeseburger, I will eat it. Little Henrietta over there may want to devour a delicious yummy double bacon cheeseburger with extra sauce and more meat- and you should let her. If not, she will go and have ten more when you’re not looking. How would you feel about that one, Mama Josephine?

3) Sprinkles and chocolate chips. You know those build your own sundae places? The ones with chocolate chips and sprinkles and whatever else, oh ya, chocolate sauce, and butterscotch sauce, and sauce in general and more chocolate and stuff.  How come the skinny sibling gets to have as much sprinkles and chocolate chips, and the overweight one gets twelve lousy sprinkles! Share the sprinkles, you sprinkle demon! Sprinkles are just sugar, it’s in your benefit to give your overweight child an abundance of sprinkles. They’ll get really crazy, then really tired, and sleep really well, and like magic– you will have a quiet night. So don’t be so mean, and share the sprinkles.

4) Bathing suit shopping. As much as it hurts to tell your child how bad they look in a bathing suit, let them wear whatever they want. One day they will look back at pictures and say to themselves “what was I thinking”, and then they’ll blame themselves and not you. Also, maybe the kids at the pool will make fun of them, and then they’ll ask you for help in the swimsuit department…better that way actually. Now, today I look back at pictures from when I was twelve and ask myself what I was wearing because I looked like a pregnant child in an eighty year old’s bathing suit.

Let kids be kids, fat or skinny, tall or short. I complain a lot about everything, but that’s because I didn’t get a lot of sprinkles, and never got to wear a bikini.

I’ve done all my complaining for the day

Sharing Is Not Caring


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I like to think of myself as a nice person, and a very caring and generous person as well. Since my stomach has dramatically decreased in size, those around me will notice that I love to share the meals and snacks that I cannot finish. It kind of feels nice that I can do that now, because I was always the fat girl picking off other peoples plates, when they were “full”. Anyway, aside from being dandy and sweet and nice and caring, my super sweet self just happens to get annoyed once in a while. People who chew with their mouths open, gum crackers, stinky people etc can make me go bonkers, and I absolutely lose it. What also is really beginning to bug me, is when people hover over me and watch what I eat. Dude, if you just back off and let me enjoy my delicious food in peace, I will give you my leftovers- as long as you are patient and understanding, because it takes me a damn long time to eat and enjoy my meal. And also Sir, may I add that when you make  comments like “that looks yummy” or “that smells great” or “I bet that’s mighty delicious in your mouth”, it makes me want to throw the food at your face, rather than share it with you.

The moral of this story, is that, I will give you my leftovers. I will feed you all day long. But please, let me eat in peace. I only get to enjoy three ounces of food per meal, so at least give me that.

Mr. Sun


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I love to tan. I know it’s not good for me, but it seems like it’s the only thing I do enjoyably that keeps me from running to the kitchen. In the summer, some people think I’m not white anymore, and I like to go by different, more ethnic names, because I’m cool like that. My face, shoulders, arms, legs and back are a dark shade of brown, which I like- because dark is slimming.

However, onto quite an important part of my body- my stomach. My stomach has never seen the light. No really. It’s actually whiter than the inside of an Oreo. When I wear nothing, while looking in a mirror (don’t picture it, sorry) I look like a giant Oreo. Seriously, I wish I could describe it, but I won’t. I think the last, or the only time I wore a bikini was when I was two, and was hanging out with my hot skinny self at the beach in Florida. Anyway, this past weekend, I decided that it was time that I expose this white ball of puff to the sunlight. Within minutes, I was instantly burnt. My stomach was instantly attracted to the sun, like they have never met before and they were soul mates. It was like a kid eating candy for the first time, like a skinny person enjoying deep fried food for the first time. It was magnificent. The shower after, however, was far from magnificent. I know I have dark skin, but I really should have put some type of protection on that white pasty bad boy.

Anyway, if I’m being honest. Seeing me with a half tankini on, probably wasn’t a sight to see. But it felt good knowing that laying down, floating in a pool, with half my fat hanging in the water and making me look half skinny, felt amazing.

I’ll keep floating on… with a higher SPF next time. I want to look like a Fudgee-O by next weekend!

Cheers To Water


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I only like water if its for boiling pasta, or to make water balloons. Other than that, I don’t really care for it. I have an addiction to Diet Pepsi, we all know how I feel about that bad boy. Anyway, I’ve finally come to the realization that not drinking water, at all, is causing me to stall. Like, I will go out of my way not to drink water. When my mouth feels like a desert in there, and it’s raining like a crazy thunder storm out there, instead of sticking my tongue out and taking some of that bad ass free fresh water, I decide that I will trek out in my cloth shoes just to get an iced tea or some type of juice.

I just feel like ever since this surgery, everything is so forced. I’m forced to not eat a lot, I’m forced to drink water, I’m forced to eat protein first- just lots of forcing. When it comes to drinks, I just need some taste. Water doesn’t really have taste. If I were to describe the taste of water as one thing, it would probably be just wet air. I know, this is a problem. If you’re going to judge me about this, shut up, seriously. Water is boring. I know, there are perks. Water is thirst quenching, and water is amazing, and water has nutrients. I know, water is good, water is great. I’m bored. I have ADD and I need something with a kick. I’m a very enthusiastic person, I love food, and can’t eat as much of it anymore, so if I can’t eat something extravagant, I want to drink it, get what I’m saying?

This last week, I headed over to the wonderful land of the Dollar Store; I go crazy in there. I saw a bag of dairy milk chocolate things that made me salivate,  Helga almost rose from the dead- but I just walked on by, over to the water bottle department. Getting to the water bottle department, I saw big ones, small ones , tall ones , short ones , green ones , blue ones . I picked up the green one that really resembled Shrek. I marked times on this bottle and made it a point to fill this water bottle up everyday. Every two hours was only one glass of water which came out to 1.65L during the day, which when you think about it that way, isn’t all that bad. 1.65L was way more than enough!

Today, this task was completed! I feel fantastic, and the bathroom has become my best friend.Just in case y’all were wondering, my pee came out crystal clear today! Go water!

Cheers!