I am almost eight months post-op, and I have a confession to make: my scale was running my life. So I threw it out.
Now, I know what you're thinking: you should not throw out your scale, you're not even a year postop, how are you going to monitor yourself, etc. And all these are valid points, and points I have thought about seriously.
Here's the thing: right after surgery I really wanted my scale. I wanted it to tell me what I couldn't see in the mirror: how much I was losing from one day (hour) to the next. People on my surgery support board were vocal about the need to weigh once a week, or less - but I wasn't hearing that. I was weighing every day, every other day, twice a day, six times a day, three times and taking the average, you get the idea.
It was kinda okay for the first six months, while I went from 232 to 200 to 199 to 175 to 167 (my surgeon's goal for me) to 150 to 140. Around 140, I tried really hard to be good and weigh once a week. I lied to myself and said I wasn't restricting my intake or letting myself forget to eat in order to hit 135. But I was, and the scale quit moving. It just... stopped. At 140. Wouldn't go lower. And I started getting really frustrated, and restricting my intake. If I'd managed to lose so much, why couldn't I get below 140? I stopped weighing out of frustration - but I couldn't eat, either.
Then, one day, I was at a Sam's Club with my mom. It was early December, I guess. And they have these cool booth thingies that will tell you everything from your blood pressure to your visual acuity to your BMI right on it. And the Sam's thingy said I weighed 128 with a 22 BMI. I was fully dressed, in cowboy boots and a jacket, no less. That's when I decided my scale was busted. I came home and threw it out.
Since then, I haven't weighed much. I got on one scale at someone's house that said I was 135, and one scale in a store that said I was 118. For the last couple of weeks I haven't weighed at all.
Instead, I have decided to watch my clothes and my protein, fluids and vitamin intake. I have resolved to make myself eat properly - at least four times a day. 60 grams of protein at minimum. This is.. hard for me. I'm better about it at work when I'm on a set schedule. Not eating is a whole lot easier than eating, now. And I'm not yet at a place where I can really see how I look in a mirror - I have the common issue of body dysmorphia, post-op.
Right now I am sitting here in an XS cami under a big, baggy size M sweater and size 4 jeans. I have eaten twice today - well, once and half a monster protein shake that should have given me 40 grams but since I've only managed half of it, I've gotten a total of 30 for the day. I'm short by half my protein goal. I still need to take my vitamins. I was pretty good and got my protein and vitamins in yesterday, but that's no excuse to not do it today. I am not remotely hungry - the idea of food makes me kinda wanna hurl.
My hair is now in a jaw-length bob, and my stylist says I do have some regrowth - but warned me about skipping vitamins and protein. I can't eat eggs or milk or chicken (I know right) or pork. So I need to go get some seafood or red meat (not ground, I can't do ground meat). I need to go take my vitamins.
I kinda think I have an eating disorder, you guys. Wouldn't be the first time - I used to have a ballet master who told us to eat "banana seeds and steam" to get our weights down. I was honest about this preop and my team felt that my outlook was good and that I would cope well post-op.
But eight months postop I now wear the same size I wore in high school. Cognitively, I think I should be at goal, right? If I fit in my high school cheerleader outfit and I have 35" hips, I'm at goal, yes? I have seen a therapist in the past to deal with my brain issues and my control issues, and I have coping skills in place - but I'm having trouble forcing myself to eat. I get sick a lot when I try. I can dry heave at the drop of a hat with no warning.
So I'm thinking that my surgeon needs to evaluate my weight and my progress and let me know when it's too much. My mother says I used to run around at under 100 pounds all the time, so it's kind of okay if I get to a size 0 now. To be honest I would not have a problem with being a size 2, but a 0 seems extreme. I'm already bony in spots and I like boobs, I want to have some. I'm probably carrying 8-10 pounds of skin around as it is. I am also not a fourteen year old professional ballet dancer anymore - I'm 40harrumphthing years old and I've pushed two kids out of these hipbones.
I dunno. I don't really know what to do with myself right at the moment. I need to eat more. I'm glad I threw out my scale. I just want to be healthy. Right now, I'm not sure if I'm really healthy, that's all. I really hope this is a phase of severe dysmorphia that's a result of the fast weight loss, and that I'll get it handled soon.
Anyone else dealt with this kind of thing?