Epiphany

Hi, my name is Cathy, and I'm a fast-food junkie.   Yes, I believe there actually is a 12-step program for weight loss called Overeater's Anonymous.  I'm not poking fun at them, not in the least.  I'm all about whatever works for a person to overcome whatever it is that has a hold on them.  In my case, my demons are delicious fried chicken fingers, double-patty burgers, chili dogs and greasy onion rings, ooey-gooey pizza, cheesy crunchy things, scattered and smothered hashbrowns, and five-dollar foot-longs.  mmm, mmm, good!  

I've found myself struggling a bit since surgery.  Not so much with the eating part, as there hasn't been much of an appetite.  My struggle has been emotional.  It's crazy, and it confuses me.  I have taken a reasonable surgical risk, and committed the remainder of my life to a new way of eating.  (See this post for background information.) 

I've found myself "mourning" over the fact that I'll never be able to eat whatever and as much of whatever I want.  Hopefully, I'll be one of the patients who can eat most anything I enjoyed before, only in much, much smaller portions.  Still... I am surprised at how sad I feel, how deprived I feel.  The strange thing is, I don't really WANT to gorge myself, and even if I had The Varsity's finest (or Chili's, or Outback, or Provino's, etc.) in front of me right at this minute, I wouldn't be able to eat it.  Well, maybe a bite or lick or two.

So last night I'm driving through Winder.  It was about 9:45 p.m. and I hadn't had dinner yet.  Though not physically hungry, I found my mouth watering as I drove down restaurant row.  At each of my favorite joints, I found myself imagining what I would order if I went to this drive through, or that drive through.  By the time I made it past all the restaurants and fast-food spots, I had worked myself into somewhat of a dither.  More precisely.. I was pissed.  I was angry because I couldn't just pull up to the menu and tell the person on the other end what I wanted, and, oh, by the way, can you Supersize that?? 

As the lights of town began to fade and I made my way through the country, I had an epiphany.  THE SURGERY IS WORKING!!!!   If not for the surgery, my biggest dilemma would have been where to stop for dinner.  Because, believe me, I would have stopped.  Yes, I might have been in a bad mood for a few miles of my journey through town, but the end result is that I did NOT do the drive-through (or sit-down) version of dinner.  I did not gorge myself with hundreds of fat grams and thousands of calories.  That is HUGE for me.  I was POd about it, because my old habits dictated that whenever I'm within a block of something good to eat, I'd better drive through (or go in) and get me some. 

But, because I have this little band inside of me, even before my saline fills and before it is working optimally, I have a tool that helps me make better choices.   Does that mean I'll never want my fast-food again?  Doubt it.  I'll probably always want it to some degree.  Just like I imagine any sort of addict will always crave, to some degree, the substance that they formerly abused. 

With the full moon shining through my windshield, driving through the country last night, I realized that this emotional battle may never be won.  I may always struggle with an irrational sadness over giving up the very thing that was killing me.  I know it sounds insane.  I can't explain it.  But I also realized for the first time in my overweight life, there is hope.  I feel victorious!  MY SURGERY IS WORKING!!!  Woo hoo!!