Friday, January 15, 2016
Yesterday I admitted to having had weight loss surgery.
I am not entirely sure why I feel like it's a guilty confession. But I do. A prejudice in my own mind, I'm sure. Maybe it's the less than enthusiastic feedback I'd gotten before?
I think that I am ashamed that I couldn't do it on my own.
And I couldn't. OMG, I tried for years, and only made things worse.
I tried nearly every diet out there. For the most part I had some initial success, then fell off the wagon for one reason or another, and was never able to quite get back up.
Then, at my highest weight ever, I was my sister's maid of honor. In a huge pastel satin strapless embarrassment. I still can't look at the pictures. I couldn't take the shame.
For me that was rock bottom, and it was time to do something drastic.
I mentioned it to a friend, who said "NO" and I dropped the subject, but kept thinking about it. Apparently she did too, because she brought it up again later, and said there was an info session at a nearby medical center.
So we went, both determined to be open minded about the whole thing. I really had no idea what to expect.
(Stay tuned for more!)