Too bad there is no surgery to give me patience

I hate waiting for things. 

I've been reading other WLS blogs and find my own heart aching to be experiencing what those folks are experiencing.  But I have six months to get through first but still, in the meantime, I want to feel as if I am doing something.  I have my paperwork all ready to be mailed off but am giving the Brit one more night to finish his.  I feel like putting things off at this point is just a waste of time; I need to feel like this could possibly be a reality and in order to do that, something needs to be happening.  I need to be waiting to hear about a consultation with the surgeon or I need to be making a decision about what diet program we are doing.  Waiting when I am doing all I can is one thing; waiting when there are things I could be doing is another altogether.

The six months is going to be hard enough, but in that time, I can get certain required appointments out of  the way, which should help with time passing.  Add to that the fact that we are having lots of company in November and December and that will also help time to pass.  I'll also be figuring out how to sell on eBay because once weight starts falling off, there will be clothing that needs to be sold.

The six months will also be a little bit of a mourning time too, I suppose.  A last Thanksgiving and Christmas to eat crap I will no longer be able to eat much, if any of, once surgery happens.  I'm not even sure I'll really miss it.  I think that feeling healthy and having energy will taste so much better than chocolate blossom cookies or pumpkin pie.  I think a lot of the stuff I chose to snack on now, is partially out of an unhappiness with myself anyway.  I almost develops a "Who cares?" attitude.  I'm already fat, so what's another donut?

I don't want to feel that way or be that person any longer than I have to.  I wish I could lose weight by dieting, but for years that has proven to be fruitless.  I lose a little, put that plus more back on in a constant vicious cycle that has probably taken a toll on my body and my metabolism.  I have spent so much time, dreaming about being healthier and being able to do things that I want to do...I can't even describe to you how hopeless I have felt after another failed attempt. 

All my life, I have just wanted to be normal.  To not be the kid that people made fun of, or the teenager who was tormented by a few bullies or at times even close friends.  Isn't it sad, that even our friends when we are younger will use our weight to hurt us if they are angry?  And that hurts so much more than some bully saying something cruel. Even family is not exempt from making comments as if I am completely unaware of my weight problem.  

 I never really wanted people to pay attention to me for my body, but on the other hand, I never wanted to be ignored because my weight either and there is a difference.  I don't want to turn heads; I want to be comfortable in my own skin and I never have been.  41 years and I have never been comfortable with my body.  What a horrible place to be.  It's the one physical thing that goes through this life here with me, and I don't particularly like it.  Oh, there are parts I like; my eyes, my hair, my fingers and my heart and mind are pretty good emotionally.  But when it comes to traveling in it, it pretty much sucks. 

Does my entire happiness lie on my weight?  No, of course not.  I have found ways to be happy in this life with little effort, but I do think that part of that is because I often ignore what pains me.  Don't think about it, because you will be happier if you don't.  But now half my life is gone and here we are, still struggling to find a place where I can accept myself entirely.

Granted, it is difficult to accept myself when society as a whole doesn't accept weight issues as a real problem.  Fat people are lazy and just lie around eating bon bons all day.  Not all of us.   Society can be sympathetic to other problems, but not to weight. Some people are and some are starting to recognize it as a disease and how can it not be?  How can some people eat what they want and not gain a pound and other people eat like birds and manage to lose ten pounds?  There are things that are not right in our genetic makeup.  I didn't spend most of my life fat and not try to do a thing about it.  Much on the contrary; I tried almost everything. 

Six months to dream and hope and pray. 

Update: As of 7:30pm, our forms for the surgeon  are in the mailbox at the end of the street.  Once they review them, they will set up a consult with us.  Now to just pin down what diet program we are going with...