As you all know, with the exception of you random
bloggers, I have been overweight for as long as I remember. I have done
countless things to try to get in shape but nothing seems to work! I've done
everything from fat camp, to weight watchers, to medifast, to yoga... I'll lose
about 70 pounds, be happy but then one day get emotional, & take a trip to
McDonalds. This has been an ongoing cycle for years.
Generally I would pronounce tomorrow a "fresh
start" but God only knows how many of those I've had in my life... So I'm
considering today a new chapter. The crap from my past will always be there and
all I can do is learn from it.
How did I come to this decision?
I woke up last week and attended a psychological assessment,
which would determine my eligibility to be a candidate for bariatric surgery. I
answered the odd questions as "positive" as possible and interviewed
with a psychiatrist that would pretty much single handedly decide my future. As
I anxiously worked hard for his approval, I explained to him my weight loss
journey and all that it consisted of. He saw my determination as a good
indicator that I would work hard post surgery and to my excitement, he cleared
me.
The minute he gave me the good news I called my mom and dad and let them
know how happy I was to finally have an answer to my weight loss problems. But
then... panic mode set in. "What if this doesn't work?" "What if
I'm that 1% that dies from complications?" "What if people think of
me differently because I didn't do it on my own?" It felt like the weight
of the world was on my shoulders. The first thing I decided to do was call my
sister. Unfortunately, she didn’t answer so I settled on talking to my dog
instead. Great listeners they are…
The greatest listener of all though is God, and I began praying for
guidance nightly. I asked him for a sign that would help me decide whether or
not surgery was the right option for me. I prayed for peace with whatever
decision I came to. Well, the sign was clear on Tuesday morning. I got a call
from my psychiatrist that he wasn’t going to clear me after all. There were
some things I still needed to work out emotionally before undergoing such a
life changing procedure. After receiving the news, I cried… A LOT. But by that
evening, I was happy that I had been “let off the hook.” I don’t look at it as
a bad thing, I look at it as God giving me one last opportunity to take my
health into my own hands and honor the body He has given me.
So with that it starts a new journey. This is day zero, of many more to
come.
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