09.22.09

1st fill

Posted in Weight Loss Surgery tagged at 7:20 pm by SoulEating

So, I had my first fill. I had 5 cc’s put in and I don’t think I’ve had enough honestly. I can still eat a good deal, but I can still feel a bit of restriction.

I’ve had a really hard time putting this post up. I am all over the place in terms of topic, so I am just going to post what I have and try to collect my thoughts more coherently for a few other posts instead of trying to put everything down at once.

I’ve always been a back-of-the-room kind of person. Most of us spend as much time as possible melting in and out of shadows in desperate attempts to blend in or just disappear entirely. Attention can be very hard to receive, especially positive attention. I’m only 16 pounds down since the surgery and its a fact I’m already starting to notice.

The heavier you are the more weight you need to loose before it becomes clear that you’ve lost any way at all. A very dear friend of mine, who has been a huge source of inspiration for me, said she had to loose 50 pounds before she looked like she lost 5.

What a fuckin mean trick!

Since the start of my journey in November 2007, and including the weight lost since surgery, I am down about 58 pounds. It took me about 37 pounds for the weight loss to become noticeable.

I was at Highland War a few weeks ago. A small, annual SCA event up in Victorville, CA. At events I tend to stick to people I know and hope I can meet others through their social pollination. While I was lingering in the fringes of the crowd, attached to either my best friend or the very nice girls I met through him, I stood back and people watched. The usual scenes spread before me: talking, laughing, hugging groping, kissing and of course the occasional disrobing as the night wore on. After saying, “My goodness! There are a lot of good looking guys at this event!”. (And there were! I am reluctant to say that back east there is a short supply of men of my age bracket and of acceptable attractiveness [and don't give me any bullshit about being shallow. I'm shallow, you're shallow, we're all shallow. Examine yourself and accept it.].) I began to notice that I was being noticed. I didn’t know how exactly how to deal with that. Whenever a guy came to talk to me I was rather guarded. Polite. Ever, ever polite, but guarded; a remnant of self-defense acquired from when I was younger during a time when people were nice to you only so that you would let them allowing them to deliberately hurt you. It will take time to work through that barrier. This is no longer elementary or middle school. It will take time.

The prize for taking Pretty Girl Reduction drink was a fake mustache

The prize for taking "Pretty Girl Reduction" drink was a fake mustache

On a side note, check out my first fibula. Kinda proud.

My First Fibula

My First Fibula

What has been difficult is the changes in body structure. You’ll hear some people mention thy during a plateau they didn’t lose pounds but the lost inches. Fat shifts. I realized that I go through the shift about every 30 pounds. Roughly. Shortly after surgery I experienced a noticeable change on my end. My fatty parts, in particular my thighs for some reason, were much softer. I got pretty depressed because I was seeing change, but not change I liked. I was being very unrealistic about it. Now I realize that I’ve identified a symptom of my body changing and can use that in the future as motivation instead of getting down on myself about it.

It’s taken me like…weeks to write this freaking post. Since my fill my weight has started to slowly creep down again. When I’m not retaining much water in the mornings I am at about 274 – 274.5. This week I started my workout regimen. By common standards, it is not at all a lot, in my opinion. I do about 20 minutes of yoga in the morning when I wake up and I walk for 15 minutes during my breaks twice a day. I want to work in my evening yoga routine but in the past I had some foot and knee difficulty with certain poses.

Baby steps. Baby steps.

A dear friend of mine at work, whom I got started on yoga, did something I’ve always wanted to try but was too nervous to: Bikram Yoga. Yoga performed in a 105 degree room. I asked my surgeon if it is ok to give it a go and he replied, “Yeah you can do it… …don’t know why you’d want to though…”

I decided to get back into my usual yoga routine before attempting it. I haven’t done yoga in more than a month because the surgeon did not release me to do so.

Hopefully all the walking will help me push past this plateau.

I’ve bee pretty fiercely depressed off and on since the surgery. I realized that I haven’t been this weight since high school and it seems as if I am dealing with old emotions from high school.

The only thing, seriously, keeping me afloat, has been the show from Cartoon Networks, Adult Swim called Metalocalypse.

Ahhh Skwisgaar…such a dick.

And here is a totally metal fan art

Brutal...

Brutal...

And another painting that totally made me smile.

Doom Comes on Little Cat Feet

Doom Comes on Little Cat Feet

09.14.09

Silence without. Turmoil within.

Posted in Mind and Soul, Weight Loss Surgery tagged at 11:14 pm by SoulEating

I have been quiet of late. Be assured that the silence does not denote inactivity or a lack of things to talk about. I have hit a bit of smooth marble that is giving me time to reflect; much like smooth marble is want to do. I can gaze upon my own rock-veined features and wonder at the path ahead and plan for these changes I have been longing a time to plan, for their own sake. A time that is in the very near future for all of us. The “I’ll do it when…” time that was always out of reach or one step away. The “when” time. The “if” time. Now, I am in the “after I” time. The “when I” era. An era where excuses have no place to sit and rest their ever-tired feet, a place where reservations have no right to take the window seat. A place where only The Sculptor is permitted. The Sculptor, with his chisel and hammer and marble medium, is at last given free reign to hammer away the imperfections of a cold and voiceless stone and give shape to The Creation within. And now that the first blow has been struck againts the impartial slab, The Sculptor stops, hands and mind have fallen silent.

Now, in this gifted place, The Sculptor does not know what to do with his tools. The Sculptor has never truley been alone before without reservations and excuses to distract him; at peace at last to work on his blank piece of marble for the first time and now The Muse falls silent. The Sculptor has been forsaken, until memory, half-created, chimes in to mock him,

“You had all these bright and romantic ideas of what I’d say at a time like this.” jibed The Muse. “Why are you surprised I haven’t said anything? You already know everything I could possibly tell you”

That’s the Cosmic Joke (one of many, I think). The Muse isn’t at all real in the sense of it being this entity or object wholly separate from ourselves.

Where are the buxom babes in flowing vestments? Where are the unicorns and satyrs and angelic advisors?

Where is the romance in a Muse that does not stir the very soul? How can a Muse that looks like me inspire anything?

How can it NOT?

We are our own Muse when we envision our aspirations. What more riveting Creation to behold than the perfection of the self as manifested by you?

What greater and crueler trick than to be blind to yourself?