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...And then there was that time when I stopped caring what others thought.

I just had the weirdest emotional breakdown while at work today. It seemingly came from out of nowhere, but it didn’t… it came from a very real place inside where I hide things from others until I’m ready to let it all spill out into the open. Here is a text message conversation I had with a couple of friends today:

I scheduled my psychiatric evaluation for August, a month before I am supposed to have met all of my requirements for this surgery and I worried that something might show up during the evaluation that would make me unfit for this surgery, but I now know that it isn’t me. I know full well that my eating habits have to change, but I am no stranger to salads, I sometimes order the smallest thing on the menu because I don’t want to overeat. I sometimes eat half of my portion and then save the rest for later because I want to enjoy it later. I eat low calorie snacks often… and then there are other times when I want the ice cream just because I want the fucking ice cream. I will eat that candy bar because I, like so many other women, just want the piece of fucking chocolate! Calories be damned! Should I be chastised for that? I don’t believe so, and I resent anyone that feels like it’s their place to tell me about my food choices like I’m some kind of imbecile.

But this, this is what you go through when you decide to undergo gastric bypass surgery. You get the people that say that they’re in your corner, and are; you get the people that say they’re in your corner, and aren’t; and then you get the people that never were in your corner to begin with, they’ll come around after all the hard work has been done, and you’ll leave them standing alone in the corner after you’ve stopped being the wallflower.


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