I’m Back!


I’ve said it once, and I’m hoping this is the last time I have to say it….I’m back, and feeling better than ever! I finally woke up, slapped myself in the head a couple of times and realized that I was wasting such an amazing opportunity that I was given. I have been sticking to my diet 110% and the results are just beyond words amazing. This is the LIGHTEST I have been in ten years. I’ve been fat for a while. Honestly, things are only going down from here…in a good way. There are new changes going on in myself that I am just so excited about!!!!  I now look down, and can see more foot than I have ever been able to! I had no idea that my pinky toe goes a bit to the left. I have less cheek than ever. I can fit less food in my chipmunk cheeks, and I look more girly now than before. My hair is coming in wildly quickly, and super shiny. My collar bones are back, and they’re bonier than ever. These things are weapons and the next person that pisses me off is getting beat with my amazing new collar bones.

I finally realize that I was given such a gift and I feel like for the last sixteen months I just abused the fact that I had a smaller stomach. I’m finally understanding how to use it and it feels amazing! I love this feeling, I’ve never felt this before. I’ve never woken up in the morning and tried on clothes, to have them fit me, or to try on an outfit and have it be TOO BIG… that’s just not me! So many changes are happening, and they’re all positive changes. I’m so happy beyond words!

 

 

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Hillary, The Someday Olympian!


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I absolutely ADORE the Olympics! I like to watch the skiing, and the finger skaters, and all the pretty costumes. Sometimes I wish I had the ability to do any kind of physical activity. At time, I envision my face on the Olympians face and pretend that it’s me doing all that funky twirling in the air kind of stuff! I tried to do Olympic skiing on the Wii once, but that failed tremendously when I fell head first into my fireplace. I still have scars. Maybe that’s why I don’t like working out, I’m afraid of being hurt and then falling! I don’t know what it is, but no matter what I do, I’m unable to move around properly. I have no balance, no rhythm,  no grace. I’m a special kind.

If I could do any kind of sport in the Olympics, I think I would do interpretive dancing. You know, the ones with the ribbon wands! I’ve always wanted to hop around like a bunny and feel like a pretty elegant princess. Somehow though, no matter what I do, I always end up tripping on something, and looking like a buffoon. I swear, it can be standing on something so flawless, and still trip and break my face. My mommy always told me that I was clumsy and not very girl-like. She always told me to be graceful, but being graceful is just boring. I can do it on the weekends, and to go to special classy events, but to be graceful all day, every day just wouldn’t work for me.

For now, I think it’s best to stick to walking. To the bus. Because I really can’t go wrong there.

Happy Surgaversary To Me!


One year ago today, at this very moment, my life changed forever. I distinctly remember driving to the hospital, worrying why I wasn’t worried. I was hungry as I hadn’t eaten any solid food two weeks prior; maybe that’s why my stomach was rumbling. The admitting department at the hospital took me in so quickly, I didn’t even have enough time to hug Donald or my Mama Ronnie Ginger. The next thing I know, I’m sitting in some room with a man telling me I’m not fat and I don’t need this surgery. He also told me to get undressed into a robe and throw all my clothes into a garbage bag, how demanding, I’m not that easy– I momentarily thought I was in prison. After getting undressed, sitting on a hospital chair half naked, and waiting in a  waiting room with terrible magazines, for what felt like an eternity. The friendly nurse in a Caribbean accent yelled my name and told me to follow her. I was so excited because it was finally happening, my life was about to change. I was so eager to wear my shower cap and slippers, but truthfully, I just wanted to hug my mommy. I was sitting in a hallway, waiting and waiting for someone to tell me what was going to happen next. All of a sudden, an overweight man gets wheeled out of the room I was about to go into. I immediately hopped out of the bed they had placed me in, and began to have second thoughts about what I was doing. Just as I was ready to leave the bed, Dr. McDreamy came over, and told me I had nothing to worry about and that he was going to go eat something; I would have offered to join him, but given my current situation, I guess it’s best I didn’t invite myself.

So I get wheeled into the room, and all I see are these big huge lights everywhere, and TV monitors, and I really felt like I was on a terrible episode of some Hospital TV Drama. Some dude out of nowhere pops his head up, and I hear him say “ready for the Propofol now…”, I respond with “Isn’t that how Michael Jackson died?”…and then I woke up. Apparently after they injected me with this marvelous sleeping aid, I fell asleep for what felt like five minutes, and they removed my beloved stomach. Well they left me with 25% of it. The only thing I remember after that is being so thirsty and wanting to burp. I asked everyone around me to burp me because I couldn’t breathe. I was the worst patient ever, and to this day I can’t believe I acted like a wild rabid goose. Fun fact, when I got wheeled into my gorgeous studio hospital suite, I was greeted by my lovely mother videotaping the entire grand entrance. Since I was too incompetent to speak a full sentence, I just yelled at her like a fat horse and told her to stop it. She then told me I act like my grandmother, and I then politely made her leave my room. How rude.

Fastforward one year, and this has been the craziest, most extreme life change I have ever gone through. I have become a different person both physically and emotionally. I’ve found a new found confidence in myself, and I’ve also found a voice for myself. I never thought the day would come when I would say that I love myself and that I’m so proud of what I’ve accomplished. While I’m only halfway there, I’m still proud of myself that I was able to get here. I still have another forty more pounds to go, and I am proud of myself. I don’t compare myself to others in my situation, because everyone is different. I’ve learned to not let the little things people say get to me, and I’m really happy with that. Letting people out of my life has been a breeze, and I don’t hold on to the little things anymore. Of course I have my bad days, and I slip up, but I know that my journey isn’t done. While some people might say that I haven’t lost enough, or I’m not where I should be compared to other people, every persons body is different, and reacts to the surgery differently. Also, just another fun fact, losing the weight slower will help me in keeping it off for good. If I lost it all in five months, I know it’s easier to gain them back after, so thanks k bye. It’s really hard to say goodbye to something you love, in this case, I had to say goodbye to food. Food was just something that was always there, and always able to keep me company, and not something that ever did any good for me.

I’m eating to live now, not living to eat.

My weight loss struggle/story/battle/life is not over, and it never will be. I’m proud of who I am, and how far I have come. I know I have a lot more to go, but with the encouragement of my friends and family, and the pretty girl I see in the mirror, I know I can accomplish anything.

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My One Year Blogaverssary


 

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Today marks one year of my first blog post. One year ago, I was in a completely different place. I was just starting out by making people laugh about how fat I was and pretty much poking fun at myself. It’s been such an amazing year, and so many changes have happened. I’ve lost one of my triple chins, lost 6 pant sizes, and have smiled more this year than I have in the last ten.

I distinctively remember this day in 2012. November 26, 2012, I entered the hospital for my first ever INFO SESSION. Now, this info session, is a room full of plump people such as myself, with the nurses and doctors coming in to scare you with what to expect with your upcoming surgery. So what, they were going to cut my stomach open, big deal, I wasn’t scared. Then everything else started to sink in- the pills, my life after surgery, my clothes, my life in general.. everything. In the middle of the info session, I look up at the doctor, and he’s talking about all these complications, and I begin wondering if this surgery really is for me, or if I can actually do it on my own. I look around the room- a room full of overweight, discouraged people just like me, then back down at my stomach, while my triple chin hits my chest, and immediately I know that this is the last option for me.

I look down at my stomach now and still see the fat girl. I still am the fat girl. What people don’t realize is that it happens slowly. I don’t even realize it, and I’m trying to calm myself down everyday when I wake up every morning and realize that I’m still a fatass. Truthfully, I didn’t do all the research I should have done leading up to the surgery. I thought it would be a breeze, that I would lose all my weight by the summer, that I’d be able to wear a bikini. Truth is, I’m ten months out and I still am fat. I will be fat forever- maybe not physically, but mentally.

I’m so happy with what I’ve done, and I have learned to not let anyone judge me or make fun of me. I’ve learned that I am a special person, and I should be lucky for what I have. So what if I’m ten months out and haven’t lost all the weight, that doesn’t matter to me. I have come so far, and this has been the most magical year of my life.

During this whole blog life of mine, I’ve realized that people are asses. People are rude, and will really do anything to bring you down. In elementary and high school, I would hate writing, but look at me now- writing is my jam (I hate jam). I’ve learned that even if I’m losing weight, and even if I become 150 pounds, people will always have something to say or something to criticize about me. I’ve learned that no amount of weight loss will suffice to people who love me most. I have also learned that the young bullies from my childhood have and will always remain to be bullies forever. I have learned to love life, and to be happy. I have learned to love myself and learned to be happy with what I have. I have learned to realize who is really there for me, and to appreciate the love and attention I receive from my family and especially my boyfriend, and best friend, Donald. I have learned to taste food and not to devour it. I have learned to appreciate food and not devour it. I liked to devour food, what can I say.

Most of all, I have learned who I am, and I am proud of who I am. I can happily say that I am one hundred bajillion times happier today, than where I was on November 26 2012.

Thanks to everyone for their support and encouragement.

Screw You!


One thing I have learned post surgery, is learning to love me and learning to not let things that other people say, bother me. We all learned the sticks and stones in elementary school, we might as well practice what we were taught. When it comes to my blog, I have been told so many times that what I write  is offensive, or hurtful, or rude or mean. Frankly, I really don’t care. I also will not make this blog post to say the usual “it’s my blog, I’m going to say what I want” because I seem to say that a lot recently. But it is my blog, and I WILL say what I want.When it comes to my weight, I’ve been called every name imaginable, a pig, an oaf (I don’t even know what that means, it just sounds fat) lazy, dumb, stupid… everything.

The fat girl who used to be me, used to let people walk all over her. Used to be the person that cared too much what other people thought. I used to be so self conscious, I would bury myself in food because I didn’t want anyone to criticize me (look how that backfired, and look how far it got me! When someone insulted me, I would take it, and walk away without fighting back. Who does that? Who just takes that. Over the last nine months, I have learned to stand up for myself, and I have especially learned that the people who criticize, are the ones who have the most deep rooted issues. You see, friendly people of the blogging world, my so-called deep rooted issues, aren’t so deep. I’m not hiding anything, I’m not keeping anything a secret, or leaving it up to anyones imagination. I’m me, and shesjustpleasantlyplump.com is who I am! I say everything that comes to mind, every feeling, every emotion I have. I write it down. I truly believe that this has made me a stronger person and made me who I am today. Being able to openly discuss my struggles, and be comfortable enough to share my stories, and to share how I feel makes me a better person than anyone who has ever called me a name.

Whether it be someone on the street, a friend, a boss, whoever. People say hurtful things because they want to feel better about themselves. I’m no angel. I’ve spoken terribly about some people; but I will admit that the reasoning for that is because I’m masking something, and hiding other emotions. I’m not going to pull the Bully card out and feel bad for myself. I don’t choose to be bullied by those around me.

I use this post as one to stand up to those mean people. So here it goes, I don’t swear, so I will try to be as mean and tough as possible. To the people who are demeaning, and make you feel useless and worthless, screw you. To the people who sit behind their computer screens, and be bullies through e-mail or other social media avenues, screw you. To the people who choose to only see the bad in you, and the people who choose to believe that you’re nothing more than just a living thing, screw you.

 

I have made something of myself, and I have come so far. If you don’t like me, goodbye.

Just Say No To Cake, or Just 6 Bites!


Yesterday was my birthday, and the rest of the week is birthday week. In honor of birthday week, I gave myself the opportunity to go nuts. Well not really, because I didn’t eat the entire piece of cake. I guess I’m starting to see how this whole smaller stomach thing is working. I’ve trained myself to not finish the last bite, and to not eat until I want to throw up and die. My mom, for the first time ever, encouraged me to eat cake. She bought me my most favorite ice cream cake in the world. Mint Chocolate Chip. Just thinking about it kind of makes me want some more. I tasted it, had a couple of bites, and then was able to tell myself when to stop. I think that was my biggest accomplishment, and best birthday present to myself. Today at work, we had cake again for me, because I’m really special and people like to spoil me. I had Carrot Caramel Cheesecake. This cake is so delicious it needs its own blog post, but I won’t do that, because it’s an extremely fat thing of me to do. Anyway, this cake was the perfect combination of cheesecake and carrot cake. I ate six little bites. I savored each bite, and then I gave the rest of my leftovers to someone who was 2 pounds soaking wet and needed it more than I did.

I’m expecting candles in at least one meal per day until Sunday, considering this is birthday week. So far, I have accomplished a lot by not finishing the cake. It’s never the last bite, and at the end of the day, who needs an entire piece of cake– my fat bum sure doesn’t!

Las Vegas


So, Donald and I decided that it was finally the right time to take a vacation. While some may argue that my time off from work after my recent surgery counted as a vacation (seriously, if you think that, then you are a sad individual in desperate need of a hobby) I believe that this is something I really need! Anyway, so while looking for a vacation, my first one since July of last year, I’m thinking to myself, “what would a skinnier person want to do?” Beaches are fun and all, and an Alaskan cruise can be fun….but the last time I went to Las Vegas, I was a whale. I wanted to experience Vegas a little bit of a skinnier weight.

After booking our trip, it has now come to my attention that I am not a prostitute looking model, and I don’t think I’m ready for Vegas just yet. To try and fit in, I decided to buy myself one of those high waisted bikinis; oh my goodness, TRAINWRECK. Well, Ronnie says I look good from the waist up, and I would have to agree. From waist down though, I look like I’m wearing one of those crossfit tires I need to flip over a thousand times over. Anyway, so now I have decisions to make, monokini, bikini (haha), tankini (obviously) or just a plain mommy looking speedo bathingsuit!

Help! Suggestions! Vegas in 5 days… I’m stuck in such a large floating pickle right now!