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Thursday, November 6

Screw you, Moon.

To sleep…perchance to dream….

Two years. It has been two years that I have had to strap it down before bedtime. During this time I have become one with my CPAP machine, or my CRAP machine as I prefer to call it, but that doesn’t mean I am happy about it now or ever will be. I have come to accept it, to work with it, to just put on my big girl panties and use it every night. But I wish I could say it has gotten easier emotionally. It hasn’t.

At my monthly support group, one of the things that we have to go around and share is what the nutritionist calls our “Happies and Crappies”. Just like the name implies, we share all the good things that have come about since having surgery (um…the weight loss!!) and also the bad things (regurgitation, constipation, and lack of motivation are common themes). The adorable dietitian with her blond hair and blue eyes and cute little figure asks us to fill in the blank with, “I didn’t know ___________ would happen after my surgery.” She wants the veterans in the room to share with the newbies and those still in contemplation phase.

My answer?

Happy: weight loss, new life, can breathe, better relationships with my husband and children, family time, a new sense of hope.

Crappy: still have food addictions and unhealthy feelings about food, still see fatness in the mirror, still critique every inch of myself, still have to sleep with a mask.

Oh, and I didn’t know that after surgery, after the scars were long gone and the weight was lifted, that I would still be in constant…CONSTANT conflict with myself.

But I am.

I am pissed off.

I am pissed that every day someone has a problem that makes me want to lose my shit, a disgruntled soccer mom pissed about jersey colors, a disgruntled school parent who cannot fathom that their child is the monster they are at school, a disgruntled PTA member that isn’t getting exactly what they want, my disgruntled kids who still can’t follow a bed time routine.  And me. A disgruntled dieter that can’t lose any weight these days. That just doesn’t see what everyone else sees.

Is this my pattern? Full moon comes along and I write a long ass blog about how shitty I feel? About how I just want to control everyone and everything and I can’t?? Followed by 28 days of being empowered and lucky to be alive?


After I finally find that crystal ball on eBay I’m going to search for “Life for Dummies” next…..

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