Saturday, September 20, 2008

Journey's End? . . .

Today is my 18-month-ary. Yep. That's right. It's over!

I won't (unlike for my Surgarversray) be asking people I know and love and admire to fete me. I won't be overly dramatic and heart-string-plucky in discussing it with you because, frankly, today is a VERY complicated day for me, emotionally.

Here's the rub . . .

It is SCARY to be this far out. I don't remember my pre-surgery life. I really don't. So much has changed since then. We've moved. Ava has learned to walk and talk. Joy is on the cusp of finishing the first stage of school - a 15 year "journey" of her own about to come to an end. I've lost almost two hundred and fifty pounds. 250! Two Hundred and Fifty. CCL - for my friends in Rome!

If it was not ME that did it - I would be in awe of the person that pulled it off. I would want to know all about how they did it and how great they feel and how different life is and what they are going to do next. As it is me that pulled it off though (but for the grace of God and the love and support of some wonderful people) . . . it just sort of scares me.

I'm not at my goal. I didn't "make it" and I don't like to "fail" or "fall short" or "not succeed." I know, I know . . . I did accomplish a ton of wonderful things. I can wear a white dress shirt now without being confused for a vessel competing for America's Cup. I can see my feet. I understand what a healthy portion of food is. I've severed all ties with Little Debbie and her band of delicious treats. I can walk without getting winded. I don't fear stairs. I can RUN around with my daughter and not fear falling and breaking every bone in my body or having my heart just straight-up explode while playing "tag." I've added 20 - 30 years to my life. QUALITY years too (not those lazy-boy sittin', remote control clickin' years I used to dream about (smile)).

But - this is it. I'm on my own now. All the Danbury Hospital did for me and all the prep and all the post work is done. It's my life now. I don't even think about the surgery as part of my diet any more. Sure I still avoid and live in fear of sugar/dumping and I try to not eat fatty foods and I try to avoid the pitfalls of a life poorly fed BUT - let's be honest - I'm not just eating chicken breast and reduced fat cheese any more either. I'm livin' life.

I've spent a lot of time on the mental and emotioal parts of "me." I have done every bit as well there as I have on my weight itself. Shedding a couple of 1,000 pound anger and rage gorillas helps with weight loss and maintenance. I've tried to address the parts of my life that got me to 530 pounds. I've tried to look at who I am, who I've been. My mistakes. My correct decisions and my in-the-middle actions, words and deeds and I've tried to make ammends to those that I've hurt, harmed, ignored and alienated. I'm ready to move on.

SO - it is complicated. I have been given a great tool for living a long and healthy life. I've used it. USED it. And now it is gone. Time for new tools. New strategies. New goals. New discipline. New benchmarks. New outlooks.

Much thanks and love to ALL those (especially my Pop Tart and Bidders McG who, every day, give me two wonderful reasons to be better and to aspire for greatness) who have loved and supported me and for those who have become friends through this blog and this shared journey (much love to my BGBFF Kate, Christine, and Techia, etc.) and my regards, encouragement and admiration to all the people who are through, on or about to start their journey.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take my daughter to the park!

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