I was going to write one giant post but I’m going to write two separate ones because they two so totally different topics. Today is dedicated to the scale victories and what it means to me. The next post will be on the Non-Scale Victories (NSV) and how those can mean so much more.
On Wednesday, I had my 9-month check up. I’ve been feeling pretty good about my loss up to this point, just based on my clothes. No, I still don’t own a scale and I’m not sure at what point I will get one, if ever. I can see myself becoming neurotic and causing that OCDness in me to flare!
So back to the visit. I love the folks at Transformations. They are so wonderful and encouraging. One of the first things that happens when you go in the back is the walk to the scale. Now, before surgery, it was the walk of doom but now I can honestly say it’s becoming alright. I was down 28 pounds and I was pretty hyped about that. When the doctor came in to look at my chart, she said something that took my breath away and almost caused me to bawl my eyes out. What was it?
“Do you realize you’ve lost a whole person?”
A WHOLE PERSON!!
My total loss since the surgery is 166 pounds and that, my friends, is a whole person. She stepped out of the room for a moment and I had to fight the tears. I texted everyone I knew and used up all the Kleenex in the tiny box on the shelf. How did I feel?
I know you’re wondering how depressed made the list. Depressed comes in because I can’t believe I let myself get to the point where I had to lose a whole person. What a lot of people who have never had to fight with their weight don’t understand is how easy it is to let it get out of control. It’s not like you go to sleep one day and wake up overweight. It’s a gradual process and before you know it, you are there. It’s easy to ignore, at least at first. That’s when you start going up to the next size. You ignore the aches and pains caused by the excess weight on your knees and feet. Before you realize it or even recognize it, you are more than just overweight, you are obese.
Being the control freak I am, the very realization that I had actually let myself get that far gone hit me in the core of my being. I understand now how close to dead I had allowed myself to come. How could I do that to my family, my friends, to myself?
In the midst of all this, there is a beacon of hope.
Hope because I took the first steps to take back control of my life.
Hope because I feel better that I have in a very long time.
Hope because I am conscious of what I do to my body and the effect it has on it, long-term.
Hope because I lost a whole person and they are not allowed to come back.