A letter to my Math teacher: Letting it Out

Dear Mr. Waldron: It's been about 45 years since I was that stupid little girl in your math class. You must remember me, I was also the girl who spoke English with an accent.

I was a bit intimidated and afraid to speak in your class because of your caustic teaching style. If someone didn't have the correct answer, you'd scoff or say something cruel. This was not setting a good example to young, impressionable minds as a teacher or adult. However, if it was a pretty, young female student, then you'd say something sweet or cute. Your students were 12 to 14 years old, we were all coming of age, some of us came from poor homes, some of us had alcoholic parents and some of us were abused. We needed adults in our lives who set good examples, were good leaders and gave us guidance, but you must have skipped class were out sick the day you were taught civility and leadership in college.

I remember watching you walk through the school, you were a young man back then. You wore a Marine haircut, had the body of a football offensive lineman; you scuffed your feet as you walked through the hallways, sometimes the sound of your shoes clicking on the hardwood floors echoed throughout the school. I never understood why you walked with a constant angry scowl on your face; and I remember the rancid smell of underarm odor that followed wherever you walked. You scared me, but being a young, innocent and naive child, I thought if I was quiet, did as I was told and stayed under the proverbial radar that I would be okay. I remember how much you enjoyed those girls at school who wore short skirts or dresses and make up. I watched you as you flirted with them; your scowl turned to a smarmy smile and as they turned to walk away, your eyes fixated on their backsides. I didn't know then what you were thinking, but I know now.

That's not the only way I remember you as a teacher.

I know you didn't like me. That was apparent from day one. I wasn't the prettiest girl in school or your class, my hair wasn't straight, I wasn't allowed to wear make up or short skirts. I didn't have the nicest clothes, and I was a little overweight. Whenever you called on me in class and I didn't have the right answer, you'd say something in retaliation. You told me several times in front of the class that I was stupid. I trembled every time you looked my way and my stomach turned to knots when ever you asked me a question.

I remember the day books were being offered for sale at school. I loved books. I spent a lot of time in the library reading. These books were special, and I really wanted them. I asked my mother for $2.00 so I could buy some. She gave me $1.50 instead because it was all she could afford. I bought 3 paperbacks and proudly carried them to math class anticipating reading them when I got home from school. I was so happy! That day in class, you had your back turned to the blackboard, one of my books slipped off the desk and fell to the floor. You turned around to see where the noise came from and saw me picking up the book. I remember how red your face got as you marched towards me, I remember the nasty smell from your body as you stood before me. You said the reason why I was so stupid is because I didn't pay attention. I tried to explain that the book fell, but you wouldn't hear of it, you picked up the books and tore them into pieces in front of me, then tossed them in the wastebasket. I could not buy those books again. Those books were paid for with my mother's hard earned money. I wonder if you thought about the actions your anger caused you to do. Did you ever feel any regret or remorse?

I wanted to cry, I wanted to run home but I couldn't. I sat there shellshocked, while feeling the eyes of the entire class on me; burning into my skin. I kept my head down for the duration of the class, unable to concentrate on what you were teaching. I dreaded coming back again.

You see Mr. Waldron, my parents were immigrants, and unlike the other students, I was different. I interpreted English for my parents, I wrote out the rent checks and did other things that required an interpreter. I taught my father English so he could get his driver's license. Both of my parents worked 2 jobs. I was a latch key kid. After school I picked up my brother from another school and walked to a neighbor's house to pick up my 3 year old sister. I would make us an after school snack, clean up a bit, wash laundry by hand and do whatever chores were left to me until one of my parents came home, then I'd do my homework. My parents were not rich and struggled to pay bills. This is why I wore the same outfit several times a week and brownbagged my lunch; every day I ate peanut butter on bread with an apple and a cup of water, when most kids bought lunch in the cafeteria.

Mr. Waldron, you got away with what you did. I did not tell my parents, nor did I go to the principal's office to complain about you. Math was difficult for me, as a teacher you should have picked up on that, but you didn't. I have kept the anger you displayed that day inside me for 45 years. I hope you know that what you did affected me mentally and emotionally throughout the rest of my school life, and even though I can live with it now, I do every so often remember your face and what you did. Yes, it was that traumatic.

Since then I've had many great teachers who have had a profound effect on my life; whose sage words still echo through my mind. I am not stupid, I never was. You took advantage of a child that needed help in Math and abused your role as a teacher. You took your anger to the classroom and used your students as proverbial punching bags.

I can't imagine what kind of horrible human being you were. I often wondered why you chose teaching as a profession when you were obviously unable to perform your duties. I hope you got the help you needed for your anger issues and I hope you've somehow learned from what you did to me, because I'm sure I wasn't the only one you humiliated and used to direct your anger. However, regardless of how much it satisfied you to hurt me as much as you did, I wish your children and grandchildren a better teacher than you were to me.

Much peace to you whether you're still on earth or have passed over to the other side.

Sincerely,

The stupid girl in the second row, 5th desk

Depression

I’ve been suffering from depression for quite a while, but some days I feel like my depression is over the edge. Like I could fall off and never return. Depression hurts like no pain that anyone has ever felt. I’ve even entertained the thought of dying.

I haven’t seen my sister since my father died 6 years ago. In most of those 7 years we’ve had a pretty strained relationship and barely spoke to one another, but our relationship has gotten better. She has her family and her life so she’s happy. My niece was 10 years the last time I saw her, now she’s 18 and calls me on the phone several times a week to tell me what’s she’s up to. I enjoy our conversations, because I’m getting to know her, but she’s not getting the full benefit of who her aunt really is because of my depression. I don’t want her to see the side of me that I’ve become so I fake it. I don’t even laugh anymore. Which brings me to to why I’m feeling exceptionally depressed today.

My niece is going to New York with a group from school and my sister is going with her. From the way it was explained to me, they can basically do what they want while there, so I thought if that’s the case, I could take the train and we can spend a day together. Yesterday I got the train schedule and look at hotel prices and was ready to make my reservations when I got a phone call from my sister telling me they will have so much to do with the school and she doesn’t know if there will be any time to spend together, but I’m still free to go if I want.

What?

I called my sister last night, she wasn’t home and spoke with my niece who read the itinerary to me. She said, we can have dinner between 8 and 9:30pm. Why would I go at this point? To spend money on the ride there, just to sit in a hotel room, not see my sister and niece and go home the next day?

So it looks like I’m staying home now, and once again I’ll have nothing to look forward to.

On a positive note, when I found out the news last night and made my decision not to go to New York, I didn’t eat. I made myself a drink, but only drank half of it. I planned to take a sleeping pill because I knew after hearing the news I would be up all night walking the floors. I didn’t want to mix alcohol with ambien. So I didn’t use food as a crutch, that’s a good thing.

It seems lately whenever something is planned with friends, it falls through. I was supposed to to Cape Cod for a Fall weekend getway with friends. I looked forward to this for weeks and the week before one of the girls realized she had something else to do and plans fell through.

Today, as I sit here looking at the snow falling outside my window, ending my life seems very tempting, but I won't do it.

Maybe I just need to find new friends.

My Empty Holes

One of the reasons why I self medicate with food is because food fills all those empty holes in my body. The holes that make me anxious, sad, depressed, lonely and happy. Those are the holes that need to be fixed by me and need some TLC from me. The problem is I know where some of those holes are and I know why they exist, but the rest are just too confusing. Someone once told me to start with loving myself. How does one begin to love themselves? To me love is food. When I was a child, my mother would give me something to eat to make me feel better, so naturally I associate food with love and happiness. She didn't know any better. No one gets directions on how to raise children or be a mother.

My mother grew up during the second world war in Europe. When she was 7 years old, the German Army bombed her village. She was with her mother (my grandmother) when it happened. My grandmother, in an effort to protect her from shrapnel or from being killed threw herself on top of my mother. These were times of war. Food was scarce, electricity was rationed, fear was everywhere. My father was from an adjacent town, and his mother hid him deep in the mountains in a cave. Nonna told me the Germans came into town looking for young men to recruit for Hitler Youth Camps. My grandmother had already lost her husband and was raising a family of 3 children (one adopted) on her own. She wasn't about to lose her son.

Both parents grew up in poverty, so when they got married and came to the US, life's necessities were at their fingertips. They worked hard, made money, socked some of it away and lived within their means. They had children who, unlike them, were well fed. Having slightly chubby kids was a sign of status. It meant the family was doing well. I wonder if that's where my addiction began? I don't eat them anymore, but when I was a child I loved cold cuts. My dad would come home with the groceries on Saturday nights. Among those groceries was a fresh loaf of bread and freshly sliced Italian cold cuts. Either I or my mother would make a sandwich of mortadella, salami and prosciutto (I disliked cheese) on freshly baked bread. I remember scoffing the sandwich down. The salty, greasy, spicy goodness sliding down my throat to fill my already filled tummy. You see, my dad would go shopping on Saturday nights after dinner. I had no reason to be hungry, I just wanted to taste the sandwich. Why? I don't know. I just know I wanted it.

Were the holes starting then? What was missing in my life when I was 7 or 8 years old? Yes, I was a little chubby and yes some kids did tease me about it. I remember my 4th grade teacher asking me to go to the board and complete a long division equasion. I couldn't do it. My mind went completely blank. She bullied and humiliated me in front of the class. When that wouldn't work she sent me to the principal's office with a note. I read the note on the way there. It said something like, "Nica weighs 100 pounds and cannot do math equasions." It hurt that she used my weight against me. I couldn't understand my feelings at the time so I may have just buried them deep inside me. I wonder if that's when my addiction started?

From Psychology today:

"Addiction is a condition that results when a person ingests a substance (e.g., alcohol, cocaine, nicotine) or engages in an activity (e.g., gambling, sex, shopping) that can be pleasurable but the continued use/act of which becomes compulsive and interferes with ordinary life responsibilities, such as work, relationships, or health. Users may not be aware that their behavior is out of control and causing problems for themselves and others.

The word addiction is used in several different ways. One definition describes physical addiction. This is a biological state in which the body adapts to the presence of a drug so that drug no longer has the same effect, otherwise known as a tolerance. Because of tolerance, the biological reaction of withdrawal occurs the drug is discontinued. Another form of physical addiction is the phenomenon of overreaction by the brain to drugs (or to cues associated with the drugs). An alcoholic walking into a bar, for instance, will feel an extra pull to have a drink because of these cues.

The most addictive behavior is not related to either physical tolerance or exposure to cues. People compulsively use drugs, gamble, or shop nearly always in reaction to being emotionally stressed, whether or not they have a physical addiction. Since these psychologically based addictions are not based on drug or brain effects, they can account for why people frequently switch addictive actions from one drug to a completely different kind of drug, or even to a non-drug behavior. The focus of the addiction isn't what matters; it's the need to take action under certain kinds of stress. Treating this kind of addiction requires an understanding of how it works psychologically.

When referring to any kind of addiction, it is important to recognize that its cause is not simply a search for pleasure and that addiction has nothing to do with one's morality or strength of character. Experts debate whether addiction is a "disease" or a true mental illness, whether drug dependence and addiction mean the same thing, and many other aspects of addiction. Such debates are not likely to be resolved soon. But the lack of resolution does not preclude effective treatment."

Yes, I eat/self medicate for pleasure. It satisfies the pleasure center in my brain. How do I kill that?

works cited: http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/addiction

Food Triggers

Today I was thinking of food triggers.

I have certain triggers that set off my food addiction. I can’t have crackers in the house, because they lead to cheese and more crackers, or they just all end up in my mouth if they’re salty and tasty enough. One or a few crackers are not enough because once I get started, I go into some kind of trance. It's the only way I can describe it. It feels as if I've left my body and something else is controlling my mind. Whatever is controlling my mind is causing me to put too much food into my mouth. I'm not satisfied with a few crackers or the suggested serving, I have to eat them until I'm full; sometimes overly full to the point where I'm sick. Also, I can’t have candy of any kind in the house. You know those little Cadbury eggs that come out at Easter time and gummy bears? I have been known to eat an entire large bag in one day! I keep these things out of the house on purpose.

Out of sight, out of mind. I don’t crave them, but if I see them while I'm out, I begin to have a mental conversation with myself. It usually starts off with, “I can control it, it’s alright.” Then it becomes, “you fool, you can’t control it, you’ll have the bag scoffed up by evening and you’ll be complaining about how sick you feel the whole next day!” My behavior is very similar to that of an alcoholic or substance abuser. It sucks. The conversations in my mmind go back and forth, up and down and all around. It becomes a whirlwind of conversations that eventually turn into so much noise, I just give in. I lose. My psych told me to make peace with the triggers. Tell them, they’ve served their purpose but are not useful to me anymore. I guess that can work if I really want it to, but something inside me continuously wants me to fail and give in. And I do.

I don't know how this addiction began or where it came from. I could go back and blame my parents, my bad marriage, events that happened in my life, but in reality, those are all just catalysts. I'm the one with the addiction, I'm the one who can't stop hurting myself. And that's what it all comes down to. WHY AM I HURTING MYSELF?? What happened to me that I have to constantly punish myself by making myself sick?

Something to think about.

Yesterday, I made myself one of those healthy smoothie drinks for lunch. In a blender, I added some frozen peaches, half a banana, about a half cup of cooked, frozen kale, some almond milk, water and a half serving of protein powder. It was so good, I sucked it up through a straw, and by the time I realized it was gone, I wanted more. I drank it too fast and I was mad at myself for doing so.

About an hour or so later, I took a nap. 20 minutes into the nap, I woke up with the worst acid reflux I've had in quite some time. It felt like a cold, steel sword coming up from the bowels of hell cutting my esophagus on the way up and laughing as I suffered from the burn. I began to cough as some of it had reached into my throat. I drank a huge glass of water, but it still burned. The burning wouldn't stop. I took two good swigs of Maalox and it only burned more. I didn't know what to do, but I thought about something that would coat and soothe. I thought about how people who eat hot, spicy peppers drink milk afterwards to stop the burn, so I poured a tiny bit of milk into a cup and drank it. It felt good going down and the burning stopped. I don't drink milk, in fact, I despise milk, but I'm glad it was in the house.

In looking up some of the causes for acid reflux, I noticed I had a few. One was obesity, that's me! The other was eating too fast and drinking liquids while eating. I remember being told after my sleeve surgery, to not drink with meals, and if I had to, to take small sips. Naturally, I ignored it because I figured if I drank water it would fill me up. It does, but it distends the stomach and water empties out pretty quickly leaving one hungry mere minutes later. Today, I was cognizant of what I ate and paced myself while eating. I have to keep doing this.

xo

It starts with the Food Hangover

Hi Everyone,

Today, being the first day of a new year, I woke up with a food hangover. It's that sick feeling where your stomach feels like a cat was trying to claw it's way out, succeeded and vomited all at once. I needed coffee this morning because it's the only thing that helps when I've got that sour food hangover tummy.

I stay home on New Year's Eve. I don't mind it. I've been doing it for well over 25 years. We usually have something fun to eat, watch funny movies toast with sparkling apple cider at midnight, then we both crash. Last night I made nachos. We haven't eaten nachos in several years. I had a little bit of leftover chili in the freezer,a package of shredded cheddar and a bag of blue corn tortilla chips. I put them all in an oven proof plate and baked until everything was melty. It all went down nicely with a tall glass of spiced rum and coke. Last night all bets were off. I felt comfortable giving into my addiction because I felt it was an occasion where I could. I shared the evening with the husband, but had my own little "addiction" party going on in my head. I ate until I was sick, but never crossed the line where I would physically get sick. The way my addiction works is by indulging with just enough to bring myself to the edge, then I take a break, mainly until the nausea wears off. When that happens I continue and repeat. Before I went to bed, I took a few good swigs of Maalox.

This morning when I woke up, naturally the first thought on my mind was breakfast. However, I did something new this morning. I fed the cats first, then I made coffee, washed a few dishes left in the sink, fed the birds outside, and then I thought of breakfast again. I baked a loaf of fresh spelt bread the day before. I cut myself a skinny slice, toasted it and fried an egg in spray coconut oil (like Pam). By the time I was done, the coffee was ready. I didn't feel bad about eating the bread because it was spelt, not white and I wasn't about to make it my fall off the wagon reason. I can't worry about carbs right now.

Right before lunch I ate a cup of mixed grapefruit and orange, then attempted to eat lunch. I was still doing well and not thinking of food. In fact, I went the rest of the day without falling off the wagon. I ate 3 meals, 2 snacks and began cleaning out my study. By the time I thought of food again it was 15 minutes to 11pm and too late to shove anything into my mouth, so I went to bed.

I'm in bed right now writing.

Today was a good day. Tomorrow I'm meeting an old friend for lunch at an Italian restaurant. I'm not sure what to do, but I'll try not setting myself up for failure. It's all I can do for the moment.

I also had a passing thought tonight that I might try to see someone who specializes in food addictions.

Good night.

Hello My Name is Nica, and I'm a Food Addict

For those of you who still check in here once in a while, thank you. I’m sorry I haven’t been posting. My life has been a roller coaster of problems, issues and fuck ups (mainly mine) that I need to sort out.

I have to be absolutely honest with you. My stomach surgery did not work. It didn’t work for several reasons. Most of them are my problems with the exception of one, and I'll go into that later in this post.

My problem: I have severe bone on bone osteoarthritis in my right knee. My knee is collapsing over itself. I have trouble walking and cannot walk for more than 5 minutes without excruciating pain. I’m at the point where pain relievers like Advil and Aleve no longer work. I lead a very sedentary lifestyle because I can’t work out or walk.

My problem: I suffer from depression and anxiety. Some of my depression is personal, the rest is due to my arthritis. On beautiful days I look out the window yearning to be outside despite the temperature, but I can’t because it hurts too much to walk. I’ve had several ortho doctors and none of them will do knee replacement until I lose weight; and the Catch-22 is I can’t lose weight because I can’t walk, therefore I can't get to a gym or exercise. Therefore I have resigned myself to being in pain for the rest of my life. I have tried everything including cutting back on calories to where I was eating approximately 800 calories a day, and not one ounce of weight was shed because I can't work it off.

My problem: I have Thyroid disease. Hashimoto's to be exact. It "may" have something to do with lack of weight loss, it may not. My TSH level is between .49 and 1. My endocrinologist says I should be able to lose weight.

I do the food shopping every week. I come home in tears from the pain in my knee from walking. I can’t carry the groceries inside the house nor can I put them away, so my husband does it. It hurts to climb stairs and do laundry. It hurts to climb into the shower or blow dry my hair. I can't do very much housecleaning, although I try. My husband does the laundry and a few other things around the house, but I do the cooking, which is painful because I also can't stand for very long and resort to quick, easy meals that doesn't require much standing. I’m also a student. More than anything I would love to attend a live, traditional classroom setting, but schools are big buildings, and I'm unable to walk from one class to the next.

Several semesters ago, I took a class in addiction. I had a wonderful professor who was very thorough and very knowledgeable about the subject. I learned about addictive behaviors and that people are addicted to all sorts of things other than drugs and alcohol. Addictions can also manfest themselves in sex, gambling, shopping and food for example. Yes food. I learned something else. I have many of those addictive behaviors. I don’t drink alcohol, I don’t take any sort of drug that would alter my consciousness, I don’t gamble and I don’t shop. My addiction is food. I self medicate with food. I use it when I'm happy and I lean on it when I'm sad. Like an alcoholic who reaches for a drink, I reach for food.

I attended several, different Overeaters Anonymous classes. It's a great concept, for those that like it. The ones I attended were very religion based. I felt like I was sitting in bible class, there is no human connection. No one talks to each other, the mediator does not talk to others except to ask if they would read passages from the "book." Everyone thanks their creator for helping them, the session is over and I'm more confused than ever before. I did not get satisfaction, it did not help me.

In February of 2011, I had bariatric surgery. I went through the multitudes of medical tests both physical and psychological. I was so excited. I thought finally I'd be able to eat less, lose weight and be happy; but it didn’t happen. Yes, I did lose about 45 lbs initially, but I had 125 lbs. more to lose. Don’t get me wrong, I do not, for one single moment, regret my surgery. Not at all. The staff at the hospital where I had the surgery was great, but then they dropped me. I would go back every few months or so, I’d see a Registered Dietician, but she kept telling me I was doing great, and inside I knew I wasn’t.

As I said at the beginning of this post, most everything is my problem except for this: What hospital bariatric departments fail to discuss with their patients is addictionn as a possible reason for obesity. Bariatric surgery is great, eating less food is great, but it's not the answer. When the individual gets home and back to routine, and the addiction begins to rear its ugly head again, eating less goes right out the window. It’s what happened to me. I am a food addict. Food is my life. There isn’t a day that goes by that I am not thinking about what my next meal is going to be. Just like a substance abuser who doesn't stop thinking about his or her next fix or drink. The only issue is people with subtance addictions can survive without it, but food is a necessity. I don’t know why I do this, although I have a sneaking suspicion that self loathing may play a role.

I started this blog because I wanted to be like all the other bariatric bloggers. I wanted to report my progress and share recipes. I used to read blogs like The World According to Egg Face, Metlting Mama and a few others. I wanted to be part of a group with a common interest, but was not very well accepted. You see, I had questions. College has taught me to be a critical thinker, except my questions fell on deaf ears... unless they wanted you to buy something or participate in something that would benefit them, then you're inbox would be flooded. I'm sorry for being so harsh, but it's the truth. They're not the rock stars of the blogging world, so they feel they don't have to respond to their fans, so I stopped being a fan. I want to accomplish the same things they did. I looked to them for guidance and then I stopped reading them because they did not help me.

It’s not about eliminating carbs and eating protein packed foods, (and if I hear “protein packed” one more time, I’ll vomit.) It’s not about all the freebies you get from Bariatic food companies to give away in an effort to get more readers to your blog. It's not about doing TV appearances or going to all the conventions. None of that helps you or me, it helps them.

My addiction is not about eating food, it is about what’s eating me. It's about what causes me to self medicate with food. I’m sure there are plenty of you out there who do feel the same way.

Ironically, my major is nutritional science. I study the biology of the body and food and how they work together. I don't want to end up your run of the mill, self proclaimed nutritionist. Anyone can be a nutritionist, you don't need a degree or license to practice that. Besides, they don't study the human body, they don't put hours upon hours of study time in like I do. Their excuse is I study mainstream science, but I still do all the studying, while they're off getting their degree from google and being know-it-alls. I want to use what I study to help others. My semester starts again in a few weeks, I’m not sure how much time I can dedicate to this blog, but I will certainly try. If you believe that you are addicted to food and can honestly come out and say it, then I’d like you to join me as we try to work this out together.

I'm Back (for now at least!)

I know, I know. It's been forever since I've been here and again I'm going to attribute it to school. Last semester I tool Algebra and Human Bio and I hate algebra. This semester I'm taking Statistics and a language, and I hate Statistics! I just hate math! Good news is I've been accepted to a somewhat prestigious university for spring semester and beginning in January, my community college days will be over. I'm big time now! Hahaha!!

Total pounds lost? 69. Yes, it's great, but it's slow and sometimes it stalls for months! Imagine working out nearly every day in the summer, doing weights, cardio and even water aerobics, watching what I eat, counting calories and every blessed thing that went into my mouth and NOT LOSING A POUND!! How does one not lose any weight on 1200 calories and lots of exercise? Anyway, I had to be patient, but then I thought, if I took away 200 calories, what would happen? Well, I lost weight. In fact 10 lbs in a month's time. That's a lot of weight in one month so I don't expect to be riding the weight loss carnival ride for much longer. I know it will level itself off and I'll hit another stall but I'm enjoying it for now!

I'm learning. I go to a monthly post op meeting for bariatric patients at the hospital where I had my surgery. I also took a nutritional biology class this summer and and have been counseling, actually sitting in with a registered dietician while she counsels bariatric patients. I've learned a tremendous amount of information about our bodies and what happens when we feed it, and while I won't go on about what I learned, let's just say I've been enlightened, carbs are not the enemy. I love sharing my knowledge with others but I'm finding that people will only hear what they want, and that's okay too.

There is a certain message board for bariatric patients that I used to go visit pre-op and for a short while post op, and am now learning that much of the information shared there is dangerous. I even got into a mild debate with a dethroned king now acting queen at this site who basically told me everything that I've learned in biology class and in nutritional biology class is wrong and he is right. He possesses no professional experience, no license to practice, not even an internet diploma (sic) but he's an expert. And while his minions cheered him on as he "told me off," I laughed and shook my head. Apparently I stepped on his queenly toes. Okay, granted, I don't have a license either, not yet anyway, I expect to in 2 years, however I'm just sharing what I've learned and not giving out advice or private counseling. It's fine. I don't lose any sleep over it and we're all adults so I'm sure they will find their own way. All I will say is try to stay within a normal range of protein intake as too much can affect your kidneys, try to balance your meals with some carbs and a little fat and you'll be fine. It's working for me!

The above is an observation and an experience I had and I felt the need to say it and will not name the website or name of individual.

Weight loss can be accomplished if you use the tools that were giving to you during surgery. Eat small amounts, eat slow, eat a variety of foods, eat healthy, drink at least 48 oz of liquid a day, preferably water, but iced or hot tea and crystal lite are fine and don't forget to exercise That's it, nothing more to it. For those of us with VSG surgery, our bodies act the same as they always did, we're just missing a big part of our stomachs, and that doesn't change our biology, everything is in working order! Makes me happy that I did not opt for the gastric bypass but I admire those who did choose it.

On that note, I'm off to do some homework.

Ciao for now!

Bullying The Fat Girl

Melting Mama's blog about women and bullying reminded me of a childhood friend I once had, and my first experience with bullying. B and I were BFF's for a good part of 10 years. After high school she got engaged and began planning her wedding, assuming that since I was her BFF and she had no sisters or female relatives, I would be in her wedding party. In fact she even hinted about it, but one day I received the phone call where she told me that she found someone else to be her maid of honor and gave me the reason that I was "too fat." to be in her wedding, but I would be invited as a guest. Yes, those were her exact words that are clear to me today as they were some 30 years ago. Really??? I wouldn't have really cared if I were in her wedding or not, but the fact that she hinted, asked and then took it back, really hurt. It hurt because we were close, we shared secrets and did those stupid things that young girls do. I never went to her wedding and afterwards I conveniently lost touch with her.

I was always a chubby kid, and there were a few kids who pointed it out to me like I was some dumb ass or didn't own a mirror, but my weight never really bothered me. In the 4th grade, the teacher sent me up to the board to solve a math problem. I had problems with math and I couldn't do the problem. She wrote a note and sent me to the principal's office with it. I read the note on the way there and it said I was having problems with math because I couldn't pay attention, was lazy and fat. YES, this is true! It still didn't bother me. The reason why I didn't understand math is because I needed extra help, like some skinny kids sometimes do. I don't remember going to the principal's office, I erased that part from my memory.

Still, it didn't bother me. My "chubbiness" was accepted in my culture, it showed good health and good status for my parents, formerly very poor and uneducated peasants from a European country who came to the US and did well.

And my BFF's words externally didn't bother me (so I thought). I figured if she thought so poorly of me, then she was never a real friend. I was just a little upset over the time invested in being her friend, but I was young and moved on pretty fast. Internally, her comment festered.

I know, why did I let it bother me? I don't know, but it did. I was always a fat kid, and made up for that by being a funny kid, which is probably why I was never bullied. I covered up my fatness by making kids laugh in school. I never had self esteem issues, I was just a happy, fat kid!

In my mid 20's I decided that maybe it was time to lose a few pounds. I was becoming a career girl, meeting all different kinds of people and had my eye on a few guys. Stupidly, I went on a crash diet, lost 35 lbs. (because that was all I needed to lose at the time) and some of my hair. It was the first time in my life that I had actually been a "skinny" girl, and discovered all that I had been missing. I was going out more, meeting more men, wearing great clothes, wearing a size 7 and liking myself a whole lot! But what my "alleged" friend said to me still, quietly festered in the back of my mind.

A few months ago, this friend found me on Facebook and somehow got my phone number from a mutual friend. The first thing she asked me was, "hey, are you still fat?" Seriously WTF? What kind of question is that? I don't even know what category to file that in, except for maybe "Rude and Tactless Questions." Wouldn't that be somewhat equivalent to asking if one still that crazy-go-funny eye, or if one still wears her hair in pigtails? Would my answer have made a huge difference to her? As I continued talking to her, I realized that anything I said would not have made a difference, she wasn't listening to me! It was all about HER, her problems, her life, her poor, pitiful self!

And this, my friends was a huge relief!

I finally came to terms with myself about her. I saw her for the idiot she really was! Her phone call removed all the years of hurt I felt by those three stupid little words, "you're too fat!" I guess in a manner of speaking, that was a form of bullying even though I wouldn't admit it to myself for many years, I was humiliated, ashamed, betrayed and it changed the way I thought of myself.

You know, I love me. Always did, and now that I've had WLS, I love me even more. You should all love yourselves because YOU are what's important. It's a beautiful feeling!

P.S. When she asked me if I was still fat, I asked her if she ever got braces for her horrendously protruding front teeth. I would never say that to anyone else, but she deserved it and damn it felt good after saying it!

Ha! I clearly do not give a good crap anymore!




A la prossima!

Weight Loss Adventures!

I've been having fun lately going through some old clothing I had stashed away for that day when I could wear them again. Well, some are outdated as all hell and some still didn't fit, and some I either threw away or put into the charity bag. However, today was a very, very sad day for me because I found a tunic that I've always loved. I remember the day I purchased it; it was one of those days when I was a little down over something or another, it could have even been a cloudy day (they make me sad) and thought that retail therapy would set me straight again. I walked into a clothing store and there it was hanging all by herself waiting for me to cast my eyes on her and fall in love. She knew she was hot and she knew a sucker when she saw one. So I walked over to the tunic, stared at it in awe, I might have even drooled a little, but as I thumbed through a rack of clothing I found a replica of her in my size and brought it home. The tunic is Indian style and actually called a "kurta." It is made of royal purple micro suede with brass coins sewed around the neckline and on both sleeves so when one moved, the coins jingled.

I tried it on and even though it was a little snug on top, I couldn't get it over my hips. I was a little upset but I thought one day I'll be able to fit into it.

Well, a lot of time has passed since that day and many events have happened, like for instance weight loss surgery and my life change. I had forgotten about this beautiful purple tunic until this morning when desperately searching for something to wear, i.e., something that fit me, I came across the beautiful purple tunic. Those beautiful brass coins beckoned for me to pluck this gorgeous piece of clothing from the closet rack where it has been sitting for several years and try it on.

The thought that it might still fit a little too tight crossed my mind but I was okay with that, until I pulled the tunic over my head and down over my chest, then hips and....

I looked like I was inside a teepee!!

All I needed was for someone to hammer a few rails into the hem, making sure they were well into the ground and I could host a camp-out in the backyard with several small children as my guests.

I was hurt and even felt like crying. I had completely passed the moment when I was able to wear this shirt in comfort. I looked at myself in the mirror and looked at the charity bag and back into the mirror as if it would suddenly and magically fit me perfectly, then back to the charity bag. I stood there for a moment in contemplation of what my next move would be, and I promptly took off the shirt put it back on the hanger and back into my closet thinking one day I will find a good tailor who will fix this for me!

I just couldn't bear to part with it.

Looking forward to trying out the new sweaters I bought last winter but never had a chance to wear to see if more sad/happy moments in weight loss history will occur! Until then...


a la prossima!

Sweet, Sweet Victories!

When I started this blog I was about a month post op and still wearing my fat girl pants which were size 22 stretch jeans and regular stretch pants. I have a lot of friends who are happy for me, especially my friend Linda took issue with me still wearing my old clothes and pulled me aside. She told me she was sick of watching me hike up my pants to just about under my boobs just to see them fall past my hips. Only a good friend will tell you like it is! Linda was right, it was indeed time for me to give up my fat clothes and buy some new clothes, so we went on a shopping excursion to Lane Bryant one evening.

While in the store, I found some pants that I thought would look good in one size smaller than what I usually wear. Linda, on the other hand grabbed pants in even smaller sizes. I went into the dressing room where the sales person had already designated a dressing room for me and had the clothing hanging on hooks inside.

I tried on a size 20 boot cut pant. Too big. I tried on a size 18. Still too big. I'm thinking holy shit the sizes must run big in this store. Linda handed me a size 16 pant. In my mind, I prepared myself to squeeze into them and not be able to get them past my hips.

HOLY SHIT!

I put them on, buttoned and zipped them without having to suck my gut in and then looked at myself in the mirror. I could think of nothing else other than I just put my fat ass into a size 16 pants! my next thought was where did the other half of me go?? I was looking dead into reality and it was very kind to me!!

It's hard for me to explain how I really feel about all this because after years of squeezing my big ass into clothes that were increasing in size and trying to look like someone I was clearly not, I looked in that mirror and actually liked myself and liked what I saw! I couldn't take my eyes off my reflection in the mirror. It's not like I don't have any mirrors at home, but it felt as if I was looking at myself for the first time in years! I went from having 3 chins to one chin, from having chipmunk cheeks and looking like I was constantly hoarding nuts to actually seeing my cheekbones, from having a stomach that made me look like I was going to give birth to quadruplets to almost flat, my hips and thighs were smaller, I HAD A FREAKIN' WAIST!!! And even though it was smaller, my ghetto bootie was still there!!

It was hard for me initially to believe the person that I was looking at in the mirror was me and I was not dreaming!

I bought the size 16 pants and a size 14, not size 22 shirt to go with it. I even went back and bought another pair of pants and a pair of jeans and a few more shirts, all on sale of course. I have enough clothes now to make it through the end of summer, and I'll evaluate what's in my closet for the upcoming fall and winter.

People are noticing my weight loss now than ever before. I'm not liking the attention very much because I don't know how to take a compliment, but please know deep down inside I'm grinning from ear to ear.

Yesterday morning I reached my 50 pound goal and set my next 50 pound goal that I hope to achieve by my surgery anniversary on February 22nd. This morning I lost another pound!

This morning I also tried on a bra that I once said I'd never get into and it fit. Comfortably. In fact, the cups are a little roomy, but the bra didn't dig into my skin anywhere. With that, I went through my bra drawer and pulled out about 15 bras that no longer fit me that I'm giving to charity. Almost all of them are new. I've gone from a double D to a C and now possibly a B.

Life is getting better.

a la prossima!

Change is Good!

When my stall was nearing its 6-week mark, I not only became very sad and frustrated, it wasn't supposed to work this way, I was supposed to lose have a stall here and there but not one that is lasting 6 weeks and counting! so, my first thought was it probably isn't a stall and my second thought was, it's definitely what I'm eating. I work out every other day, I do water aerobics twice a week and still the weight didn't go up, BUT, it didn't go down either. Well, after having a discussion about this over lunch with a very dear friend, I made up my mind on what to do.

I joined Weight Watchers online.

I'm not writing this to sing the praises of Weight Watchers because the program isn't designed for post op bariatric patients but I am going to say that I figured out what I was doing wrong. I was definitely eating too many calories - lots of protein, low carb and all but way too many calories and, I know some of you will hate me for saying this, but, I've had to put a few grainy carbs back into my eating plan just to kickstart the weight loss again. By adding a few carbs I mean, I eat a small piece of whole grain toast in the morning, that's it! I'm also keeping track of what I eat, still keeping my protein grams to 60/70 per day and I stay below my points guideline. I couldn't possible eat 28 points a day, but 21-24 is working for me. I can't even eat the extra points alloted to do with what you will for the week or the extra points rewarded for working out. My stomach just isn't big enough anymore to stuff those extra points in, so I don't use them. I'm told if I don't use them, my body will go into starvation mode... mmmm... I don't think so. I'm eating, eating right and eating healthy.

So after 2 weeks of WW tracking of food intake and activity, I've managed to lose 3 1/2 pounds. I don't know if it's the carbs my body is seeing after so many months, or it's the lower caloric intake, but whatever it is, it's working, my mental slump is better and I'm feeling great!

As many of you know, there is nothing more frustrating than hitting a stall, and I expect stalls to last several weeks, but 6 weeks is a bit much in my opinion, and it is a reason to figure out what the underlying problem is. Everyone's body reacts differently, apparently my body punishes me for eating the way most post op bariatric patients eat, so at this moment the WW plan is working for me.

In the end though, does it really matter? We are all trying to achieve the same goal which is the reason we had weight loss surgery to begin with. As long as we're losing in a healthy way.

I'll take a 3.5 loss any day! Yup, change can be very good!



A la prossima!

Eat Pancakes for Stress

Once again, it's been a while since I posted, and the truth is I've been so stressed out it's scaring me. To start, we had an attempted break in at my house, luckily the alarm went off as soon as they got the door open and apparently the coward ass ran. Then my husband's car window was vandalized. The idiots threw a rock the size of my head through the driver's side window, reached in and took his baseball cap. The man was pissed about his baseball cap, I was pissed because they touched my property!! My husband just happened to be looking out the window when it happened opened the door and started chasing the kids down the street. I called the police, and a perfect day ended in chaos. A few weeks later the man was going out to move my car when he noticed my driver's side window was shattered. I don't keep anything of value in my car, the only things I have is a blanket and an umbrella. If they're that desperate for those items, I would have gladly given it to them, but they were still there. So the following day I decided I was going to play sentry and keep a look out and around 6:30, two kids walked by and sat on my lawn wall, one was carrying two large bricks. I poked my head out the window and asked what he had in his hands, he said it was his phone. I replied by asking if phones look like bricks these days and he said they were new phones. Again, my husband went out and they began to run, once again I called the police and once again the police did not get the kid. So now one car gets parked in the garage and the other gets parked in a safe area in the next town across the street from my where my sister in law lives.

This is what it has come down to. I am not going to pay another dime to replace the windows so these punks can get their jollies. Also, I've been looking at houses, we are definitely getting out of this neighborhood. It's getting worse and worse every year, if it isn't the sound of gunfire, the drive by shootings and gang related deaths, it's little morons vandalizing personal property.

Also, I was kind of hoping it wouldn't happen to me, but it did - my hair is beginning to fall out. I'm a little over 4 months post op and it's coming out in clumps, it doesn't even look the same when I style it. I have hypothyroidism and lost a considerable amount of hair on top of my head already, so this post op hair loss in addition is very depressing. I've been wearing it tied back in a ponytail, am strongly considering cutting it all off or buy a wig. I'd like to try a couple of wigs first and if they look natural enough, I'll ride out the storm until my hair starts to grow back, if not, I guess I'll be wearing a butch cut for a few months!

And if things aren't bad enough, I'm stuck in a stall. 43 pounds and not budging, not even a half pound!

On the other hand, I've been having some AWESOME pancakes for breakfast the past two days. I got the recipe from "The World According to Eggface." I made my own variation by adding a tablespoon of SF white chocolate pudding mix and a half cup of blueberries; just make sure you add the blueberries before you flip the pancake over. I made 2 large pancakes from the batter instead of 4 small or 8 silver dollar size and could only eat one. In fact, I even had trouble finishing it, I left about 2-3 bites.

The pancakes were a refreshing change from eggs every day, even though the recipe contains egg, but it's not the same! I highly suggest you try them! These pancakes are so very yummy that I forgot all about the problems I've been having for a while! Who would have thought pancakes would be stress relievers! See here for the recipe.

Gone Crazy and Pizza Crust Too!

I must be out of my mind. Yep, I've gone nuts, lost it, am ready for a straight jacket and the padded room. Me, fat girl extraordinaire has been working out, not once but twice a day! Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought of doing this, but it's true. Don't get me wrong, I love working out, just not twice a day.

I go to the gym every other day. I am doing 25 minutes of a cardio workout on a stationary bicyle and 30 minutes of weight training, THEN on Monday and Wednesday evening I go to water aerobics at the YMCA, and at this very moment as I'm typing this blog, my effin' body is SORE! It hurts from my neck all the way down to my toes!

And the best part is... I have lost a total of 43 lbs!!

My underwear is getting big, I mean uncomfortably loose. I'm wearing my pants gangsta style, as in the crotch and ass hang below the natural crotch and ass line! Oh yeah, real sexy. Maybe the young boys who hang out at the skateboard park at the end of the street will ask me to hang with them! Ha, joke. I made a funny, not this old broad!

But what I really wanted to tell you is that I created a low carb crust for pizza, and I apologize to anyone who created this before me, but I play around with recipes and I came up with one for crust without using flour. As I learned in Entrepreneur class recipes cannot be subjected to trademark and/or patent regulations, so they're free to plaguerize (sp?) or re-create, but I will always give credit where credit is due.

The recipe is as follows:

1 cup of chick pea (garbanzo) bean flour
1 cup of water
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 tbsp. oil
1 tsp. Italian seasoning (optional)
a 9x12 cookie sheet with sides (or a size pan close to 9x12)

Combine chick pea flour, salt, pepper, seasoning and baking soda in a bowl, add water and stir. Mixture will be the consistency of thin pancake batter. Let the batter sit for about a half hour. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Pour mixture onto the cookie sheet, spread if necessary to cover the entire bottom of sheet (remember, it will be like a thin batter), then bake for about 8 to 12 minutes. Crust is done when it looks like it's pulling away from the sides and top is firm to touch.

Remove from oven, spread about a tablespoon of olive oil (this is optional), then spread your favorite sauce and add shredded cheese. I also added some turkey pepperoni. Lower the oven to 350 degrees and place pizza back into the oven and bake until cheese is melted and bubbly.

I used reduced fat mozzarella and it didn't brown, now I know why low carb people use full fat everything! I finished it by placing the pizza under a broiler for a minute or so until it was brown all over.

I get about 4 slices but you can cut them as big or small as you want. The only problem is it's not crispy like some pizza dough, but I'm cool with that. The crust is kind of soft and a little bready; it reminds me of the pizza slices my mother used to buy from the Italian bread bakeries that once inhabited the North End in Boston.

It's yummy, low carb and good for us!!

Okay, I'm exhausted from a day of gym and water aerobics and am going to bed. Nite nite everyone!

A la prossima!

Reaching Out

About a week ago, I had an appointment with a new dermatologist, I figured while I'm in the midst of losing weight, the hair on my lip and chin can go too as I'm not only tired of waxing and tweezing, my over 40 eyesight is making it difficult for me to see! I'm first generation Italian-American born to dark Italian parents therefore it only makes sense that I am born with an olive toned complexion and dark hair so the monobrow and facial hair are part of the whole look and has been the bane of my existence!

As it turned out my dermatologist and I share the same ethnic background and our families are from the same area so you know we immediately became kindred spirits! We talked for a while about our families and "who we know," but then it got down to business and while she was asking me about my medical history, I told her about my VSG surgery, how happy I was, how it was the best decision I ever made, etc., etc., and when all was said and done, she began telling me about her best friend who happens to weigh close to 400 pounds. I listened intently as she told me about her friend beginning with listing her co-morbidities, her bad knees, and how her husband does the laundry because she can't go down the basement stairs which is where the laundry facilities are, and how she stays home a lot because she can't walk, is ashamed of her size, and how Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, Nutrisystem, HMS and other diets didn't work for her. I held back my tears as she basically flashed my past life before my eyes which reminded me of the emotional trauma I experienced that finally led me to take that leap into weight loss surgery. The only difference her friend and I have is she's afraid of having weight loss surgery and very adamant about it.

So who wasn't afraid at first?

I'm such a sap and the story about her friend touched my heart. I wanted to reach out and help her, so I gave the dermatologist permission to give her friend my phone number. I won't talk her into having WLS, but I will sing the praises of it and I will tell her how it gave me my life back and added a few more years to my life. Now that I've been there and experienced the procedure, I can honestly tell her that there is nothing to fear. A few days of discomfort is worth a lifetime of happiness. I hope she calls me.

The conversation with my dermatologist sort of clinched my decision in what my major will be this coming fall when I go back to school.

I've spent most of my life yo-yo dieting. I've lost tons of weight, only to gain it back again, and I was also a chubby kid. The current generation of children are growing up the same way. For me, it wasn't lack of exercise, it was my parents who fed me like their very own little prized pig, but for children today, it's many things from McDonald's advertising directly to them and serving up greasy, salty food to unhealthy school lunches, working parents who don't have the time to make healthy lunches, computer games, and x-boxes. Children are getting Type 2 diabetes and other co-morbidities and I want to join the battle to help them grow up healthy, so I've decided my major will be in nutrition with the hope that I can reach out to children and their parents while they're in school by teaching them and using my experience as a child as an example.

Yeah, I'm ready for it!

Until next time when I'll have some more yummy, healthy recipes.... a la prossima!

Ciao!

Chicken Fajitas and a Beautiful Weekend!

In New England, Memorial Day weekend kicks off the unofficial beginning of summer! I'm sure it's the same way in many other parts of the country, but here today the temp hit about 90, the humidity is about 87%, so needless to say it's the 3 H's - Hazy, HOT and Humid! This is the type of weather I absolutely detest and we get a summer-full of it every year. It's the type of weather that tempts me to shave my head, it maintains my mind in a constant state of funk and makes me want to spend the rest of the season sitting in front of my air conditioner, however, this year, I'm a little lighter, feeling a lot better and when I think about the horrendous winter we had that began the day after Christmas with a major Nor'easter that dumped tons of snow, along with the 2-3 foot snowstorms we had just about every week until the first week of February, toss in the subzero temps, the ice, the ice dams, the melting snow dripping through my bathroom window, well, I would say today was absolutely beautiful! I think if I have some time tomorrow I may remove the tarps covering my deck furniture and bbq grill, clean off the dirt and get my deck ready for the season.

I have been so busy lately that I haven't really been cooking very much with the exception of making a little meal here and there, but yesterday I made chicken fajitas (so easy) and Almond Meal bread. I've been jonesin' for something other than eggs for breakfast and the bread did the trick for me. I got the recipe from the Cooking with Trader Joe's website . It has a sticky, gooey texture when raw but when cooked it makes a decent loaf of bread, not the kind of yeasty bread we're all used to; it comes out like a dense and hearty, earthy-crunchy type bread. It's delicious with cream cheese or goat cheese spread and it took care of the craving. Also, it's about 317 calories per slice but it has 13 g. of protein and good fat, that is if you slice the loaf into 12 slices, so if you're watching your calorie intake I would suggest cutting the slices thin. The bread is filling so a little goes a long way, which is a good thing for those of us with VSG's, RnY's or Lapbands because we don't eat very much anymore!

Here's my recipe for Chicken Fajitas:

2 cups of cooked white meat chicken, diced into 1 inch cubes. (I used a rotisserie chicken)
1/2 of a green pepper, diced into 1/2 inch pieces
1/2 of a red pepper, diced into 1/2 inch pieces
1 small onion
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 tsp. Ancho chili powder (optional)
1/2 to 1/3 (or more) of your favorite salsa.
Package of shredded Mexican cheese.

Heat the oil in a frying pan and when hot, add the peppers and onions. Cook until peppers are soft and onions are translucent. Add Ancho chili powder, a little salt and pepper if you want. When mixture is done add chicken and salsa and cook until heated through. Remove pan from heat.

If you're a carb lover, you can place some of the mixture into a corn or white flour tortilla and add some cheese. The heat from the mixture will melt the cheese or you can place it under a broiler. I sometimes have to do that with certain cheeses.

If you don't eat carbs but want to pretend you do (like me), I used half of a high protein, high fiber, low carb tortilla. You can find these in the International food aisle of your grocery store or ask where they would be. Yum!

This comes out more like a pizza, but you can prepare it in any way you please!

Anyway, it's been a beautiful day here and almost the end to a perfect weekend, so please take a moment to remember what this holiday is for, or if you know or see a vet, don't forget to thank him/her.


A la Prossima!

The Girl I Used To Be

I've been away for a while, but now finals are over, summer is around the corner, I have time now to get done the things I need to get done and I'm loving me a little bit more, and in the time I've been away from this blog, I've learned a few things; one of them hit me today. I am slowly but surely becoming my old self again. Today I felt the girl that has been trapped inside me for so long trying to come out again, and today I also found out I have lost a total of 37 lbs. 3 more to go to 40!

I went to CVS today to pick up a few things when I smelled something light, flowery, and clean so I followed the scent and found many different bottles of body sprays. At this point I became confused and am unable to tell if it's a combination of scents that has attracted me or was it one in particular? As I began spraying the tester bottles into the air, it dawned on me that I haven't worn scent other than soap or shower gel in ages. The last bottle of perfume I bought was Sunflowers and that was sometime in the mid 90s!! It also dawned on me that I used to wear scent because it made me feel "alive," and that's the key word here. Since I've lost a good amount of weight I'm beginning to feel alive again! I'm yanking my pants up to under my breasts, only for them to slide down and having to yank them back up every few minutes or so. This is a great feeling!

I went to a consignment shop with a friend a few days ago and while waiting outside the dressing room for her I happened to look at myself in the full length mirror, and for a moment I didn't know who I was (It was a very short moment!) The crotch of my pants was hanging below where it naturally should be!

I can actually cut my toenails again because my stomach isn't in the way anymore, I can bend down and tie my sneakers without my face getting red and coming back up trying to catch my breath.

I am even doing better at the gym, going every other day. I stopped fighting with the elliptical. My knee hurts when I'm on it and there's nothing I can do about it until my knee stops hurting. I took the advice of my hunky surgeon and got on the bike instead. The first time I could only stay on it for 5 minutes, yesterday I finished 20 minutes and could have done another 5 but I didn't want to push it. I began weight training and that burns calories all night long and it's making a difference.

Today got me thinking of how long it's been since I've really been happy. I thought I was, but apparently I've been lying to myself all along. I am the original Queen of Denial. I buried the shame of how I looked, how much food I ate and why I ate. I buried my love affair and gluttony with food. Food was my go-to for emotional support and yet it was killing me at the same time.

I also thought about where I would have been today had I not made that leap of faith and had my VSG surgery; I may have been 37 (maybe more) pounds heavier, still fighting that vicious cycle of weight loss, still yo yo dieting and still eating to death.

The fog in my head is clearing, I'm beginning to put the pieces of my life puzzle back together again, and I look forward to the day when I can finally bury the old body image of myself and see the new me emerging to life! It's going to be awesome!

So this journey has been one of trial, error and learning. Sometimes I feel like a 2-year old, (heaven knows I eat like one) who has a big world to see and learn about. Some days I feel like a runner looking to make that finish line. Some moments there will be bumps in the road and some will be smooth sailing. All I know is that regardless of what happens along the way, I have to keep pushing towards my personal finish line, and once aging become the girl I used to be, and that will also be awesome!

And speaking of awesome, I want to introduce you to a man in my life who rocked my world and gave me a new chance at life.

He's handsome, sweet, personable, kind, has a beautiful soul and I love him. I also pray that God keeps him strong and healthy and did I say that I love him? He's my surgeon, and he's the very best!!

Finals, School, Bleechhhh!

It's been difficult for me to get here these days and the reason being is that I am a non-traditional student (meaning I'm older than the average student), I go to a 2-year community college, this is my last week of classes and I have finals next week! Needless to say I'm under stress, I want to eat the world (because I'm not just a volume eater, I'm also a stress eater) and those damn 2 pounds I keep losing keep coming back! WTF is up with that?? Just when I think, "Yeah Mama, I'm off my stall!" The next day the scale goes up 2 pounds. Do I throw the scale out the window? Put a "free" sign on it and put it outside my front door? Or throw it against the concrete wall in my backyard as a form of punishment for not cooperating as it should? I am sooooo frustrated!

Saturday I went to a party at a friend's house, and I drank alcohol for the first time since my surgery 11 weeks ago. The weird thing is pre-surgery whenever I went to a party, I'd walk in, say hi and hit the buffet table and continue to stuff myself the entire evening. This time I walked in, said hi, talked and talked and 1 1/2 hours passed before I noticed the buffet table, and by that time I was getting a little hungry. I grabbed a plate and glanced over the table and here is a list of what I put on my plate:

A little bit of salad with a piece of a grilled chicken strip.
A small spoonful from a chicken, broccoli and pasta dish
A deviled egg
A small spoonful from a rice and shrimp dish
2 mini quiche's
A piece of cheddar cheese

I ate:

The grilled chicken strip, left the salad
The deviled egg
The cheese
One piece of shrimp, left the rice
One piece of chicken with broccoli, left the pasta
The inside of one mini quiche, tossed the other one.

WTF? I ate nothing but protein! Someone stole my mind and is making me eat different now!

I also had a few drinks! Now it's my understanding that with VSG, you drink, get drunk on one drink and the buzz goes away fast. At least that's what I've heard from others. No, not me. I drank a little bit of wine, it was delicious, I finished it - nothing. I had another glass, finished it - still nothing. Later in the evening I had two shots of cinnamon vodka (not at the same time!) - still nothing! What is wrong with me why can't I even get a buzz?? I am so weird!

Anyway, I'll return after my finals. I'm getting a headache just thinking of having to study for it…

Later folks!

A la prossima!

Meatball Madness!

So the other day I decided to make some marinara sauce with meatballs. I figured the hubby can have meatballs with pasta and being the good, low carb eating girl I am I'll just eat the meat. Well, before we go on, I need to tell you that I have this bad habit of putting things off until I damn well feel like doing it. Okay, so a few days before I took out some frozen hamburger out of the freezer to make the meatballs with, but.... I didn't get to them until this morning... and... well...when I took out the package of hamburger that had thoroughly thawed out many days ago from the fridge, it was brown. I mean the meat was brown sitting atop a pool of brown juice. I know TMI but Ewww... I even had the nerve to smell it! And while it didn't particularly have an overpowering evil smell, there was a slight hint of what was to come had I left it in the fridge any longer. I hate wasting good food and I'm sorry it couldn't be used but thank God for garbage disposals!

So now I've got sauce on the stove cooking away and nothing to make meatballs with. Then I remembered some freebie I got at the supermarket one day, it was one of those, "spend $50, get 3 free items," type promotion. I remember the items clearly, one item was a small watermelon, a bag of lettuce and a bag of frozen, ready made meatballs! Needless to say I grabbed that bag, tore it open and immediately dumped the contents into the pot of boiling sauce. Whew!! Saved!

My dinner last night was two golf ball sized meatballs with sauce, and even though they weren't my meatballs and the sauce covered up the fact that they were a little bland, they served their purpose.

Now I've got broccoli and eggplant in the fridge that I bought last week. When I checked today the eggplant was still firm and the broccoli still green, so maybe I'll get off my ass and cook it tomorrow and make something useful from it, eh?

A la prossima!

Eggplant Chicken Salad Tacos

I love eggplant and discovered several years ago that the only way to eat eggplant is to fry it, and since eggplant is like a sponge, it drinks up all the oil in the pan and wants more, so needless to say it's kinda fatty and greasy. I gave up on it completely until I got the idea in my head that if I broil it, it might not be so bad. People grill veggies, so why not eggplant? So I bought two small ones and the rest is history. Here's my recipe:

Broiled Eggplant

2 small to medium sized FIRM eggplants
1/2 cup of olive oil
1/4 to 1/2 tsp. Garlic Powder
1/4 tsp. Chili flakes
Salt

Cut the stem side of the eggplant and cut a little bit off the bottom, then with a potato peeler, peel the eggplant. Now you can either cut it into 1/2 inch rounds or cut it on the diagonal, but either way the thickness should be 1/2 inch. Place on a small cookie sheet pan, then fire up your broiler. Add to olive oil, the garlic powder and chili flakes and lightly brush on one side of the eggplant and broil until brown on one side. Flip eggplant over and repeat by lightly brushing the other side and broil until brown. Lightly salt. I usually check my eggplant several times because I've forgotten them once and let them burn to a crisp. After I opened all the windows in the house to let the smoke out and silence the smoke alarms, I had to throw them away because crispy charred eggplant is not good eats!

These are great eaten as a snack or... with the following:

Chicken Salad

1 cooked, deboned chicken breast, chopped fine
1 1/2 tablespoons of light or reduced fat mayonnaise
1 medium sized stalk of celery, chopped into small pieces
dash of Jamaican style curry powder (or curry powder of your choice)
dash of pepper

Mix together all ingredients, then with a Ninja, Magic Bullet or Immersion blender, blend until pureed or chunky if you prefer. It's done!

One day I was looking for something to have for lunch and I didn't want to eat just plain chicken salad so I remembered the eggplant and placed about a teaspoon or chicken salad on each eggplant slice and folded it over so it looks like a mini taco. I made about 6 of these for myself and they were incredibly delicioso!! And OMG, it's even low carb! Imagine that!


A la prossima!

My Bad

I know it's been a while since I posted anything, but my life has been so very busy that I need an administrative assistant to keep my calendar and keep me on the right track!

I survived Easter despite the fact that I cheated, and I'm totally okay with that because the difference is I didn't eat 9,000 calories that day. I ate breakfast, which always consists of one egg omelet with 1 skinny slice of cheese, had a yogurt for lunch and made individual Beef Wellington's with asparagus and roasted potatoes for dinner along with Lime Cheesecake for dessert.

I get my beef tenderloin from Costco and usually have the butcher cut it into chops, so after preparing it, adding minced, cooked mushrooms and wrapping it in puff pastry it comes out to about the size of my hand (6 inches from wrist to middle finger) and about 2 inches high. I could only eat half of it, ate the equivalent of one asparagus spear and 2 small wedges of potatoes. I was full and happy. Then later that evening, I had a small slice of cheesecake with coffee and was done eating for the day. Two days later, I got on the scale to see if anything happened and I lost one more pound! This proves the theory that even though I don't eat very many carbs, I can still indulge every so often without falling off the proverbial wagon.

I even started going back to the gym, and much to my surprise I did 10 minutes on the Elliptical and walked off of it without any pain in my knee, so I pushed it even further... bad idea! I got on the stationery bicycle and could only do 5 minutes before excruciating pain set in! No more bicycle for me until I lose more weight or the pain just goes away! I also worked out with some weights and all together I spent 35 minutes there and I know the more I go, the longer my workouts will be. I can't wait for that to happen!!

Unfortunately, I have a few doctor's appointments tomorrow and Friday so can't get back there until Saturday and I think I'll go there very early to get a head start and a free Elliptical!

I'm also really trying not to base my weight loss success on what the scale says because as we all know muscle weighs more than fat, and when I start seeing the weight of muscle on the scale it makes me neurotic, so the only time I'll weigh myself is once a week and keep an open mind.

I'm going to try some new recipes this weekend and will share once I do. Other than that I'm bogged down with homework, family business and in my neck of the woods we are experiencing days on end cloudy weather and humidity. It doesn't help my psyche.

Until then...


A la prossima!