Gastric Bypass Barbie

Hot Air Balloons, Regain, & Ruby Red Slippers (Oh, My!)

This morning, while Enrique Elliptical and I were having our 45 minutes of cardio together, I got a visual of myself rising up into the air (like a balloon). I was frantically kicking and flailing my arms in a feeble attempt to stay on the ground, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop myself from drifting away.

Then, I visualized Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz. Remember how she got into the basket of the hot air balloon with the Great Oz, after he promised to take her back home? Remember how Toto jumped out at the last second, forcing her to dive right out after him? Of course, we all know what happened next: The balloon drifted away because it didn’t have enough sand bags to weight it down. No matter what Dorothy did, she could not stop it from happening.

Though the entire movie, she tried heroically to get home, but once she missed that balloon, we were all convinced that she’d be stuck in Oz forever. That is, of course, until Glenda (the Good Witch) returned to tell her that she’s always had the power to go home; all she had to do was wish hard enough and click her ruby red slippers together.

So, how does this little tale apply to me in my Bariatric After Life™? Well, the runaway balloon represents weight regain. Remember how I said that I’d visualized myself floating away, unable to keep my feet on the ground? Remember how Dorothy couldn’t keep that balloon on the ground either?

As it turns out, the balloon (and all of the things Dorothy tried in Oz) represented OUTWARD forces – things that were OUT OF HER CONTROL. The ruby red slippers were the manifestation of all that was INSIDE; her INWARD FORCES. Ultimately, she needed to fail at all of her externally motivated attempts so she could finally see that, only by looking inside herself, would she be able to achieve her dream of returning home.

This is what codependency is all about; the idea that we are affected by and seek answers from outward forces, when we really should be looking WITHIN.

What I realized after this little movie played out in my head was this: I have the power to control my weight regain. I am not a hot-air balloon that is leaving without me — I am Dorothy who knows there is NO PLACE LIKE HOME because I have always been there. I’ve always had the control to be where I most wanted to be — and that’s where I stand today.

Today, I had to remember that I have the God-given power within me to achieve whatever I need to achieve – and I don’t need a wise and powerful Oz to live a healthy and happy bariatric after life.

It’s such a simple lesson, it’s hard to believe I ever missed it. But, I guess life is made up of lots of simple answers – which I just like to make more complicated.

Hey, I think I need a pair of cute little ruby red pumps. Uh, so I can always find my way home.

Stairs

In my “before” life, I was terrified of stairs. This fear was NOT without basis, as I had fallen down my share of them and ended up with some pretty nasty (though not permanent) injuries. Interestingly, I had also fallen “up” them (which is a whole other situation). Either way, stairs were my nemesis and I avoided them at all cost.

If there were stairs to climb, I’d take the escalator or elevator.
If there were stairs to descend, and there were no other options, I’d white-knuckle it. One. Step. At. A. Time.

Heck, I had trouble with even ONE stair, as evidenced by two falls out of my motor home!

Poor MexiKen was utterly traumatized by my stair episodes, and still holds his breath when he sees me going up or down them. (Old habits die hard.)

Anyway, the point of the stairs is, before my bariatric surgery, they USED to represent horrible things to me:

• Fear
• Pain
• Trauma
• Effort
• Exhaustion

But, this weekend, as I explored Cincinnati with total abandon (and not the slightest hint of terror at the sight of a flight of stairs), I realized that stairs now mean something entirely different to me.

They now represent good things, like:

• Adventure
• Possibility
• Challenge
• New Heights
• Unexplored Treasures
• Beautiful Vistas
• Conquering
• Success

I’ve come to the conclusion that stairs are really just a metaphor for my weight loss journey. When I weighed 316 pounds, all I could see was a never-ending flight of stairs — hundreds and hundreds of steps between me and a healthy body. Taking the first step was unimaginable; scaling all of them would be impossible.

Before, all I could see was the totality of the stairs; an entire staircase.



Now, as I continue to ascend the steps — but for different reasons — I see each step as growth and opportunity. But, of course, this is all about perspective. I have a much different view of my life from up here.

For example, now when I struggle with 2-5 pounds, I realize that they are just “steps” — not an entire STAIRCASE. All I have to do is step UP, and I’m back to where I want to be. I don’t have to scale the entire thing like I did before.

And that is where the perspective comes in. The mistake I have made in the past is looking at the entire flight of stairs as if I had to get to the top in one step, rather than walking up — one, by one. Of course it seemed insurmountable to me. Of course I didn’t believe I could do it. Even at my best, I can still only take 2 steps at a time — and I’m in pretty good shape!

What I’ve learned in my Bariatric After Life™ is this:

• Stairs can represent something negative or something positive; I choose positive.
• Stairs can bring me to amazing new heights and wonderful adventures.
• Stairs can take me to places I would never have imagined I’d be
• Stairs can help me see things from a perspective I could never dreamt existed.
• Stairs are no longer my enemy; they are my friend. I know it sounds weird, but it’s all true.

This past weekend, in Cincinnati, I climbed up and down so many stairs, and experienced so many wonderful things. I met amazing people and saw beautiful views. I grew as a person, all because I stopped fearing the stairs, and chose to embrace them, instead.

Highlights from Obesity Help Conference 2010

Cincinnati, Ohio • August 21-22, 2010 • The Westin Cincinnati

I promised you some highlights on my latest adventure at the OH Conference in Cincinnati, and I’m delivering!

DAY 1: It takes a really long time to get to Cincinnati from Long Beach. Despite getting up at 4AM to catch a 6:50 AM flight, I didn’t arrive in Cincinnati (well, Covington, Kentucky, actually) until 3:45 PM (local time). After waiting for an airport shuttle that was never going to come (airport people told me it would; The Westin told me there wasn’t one. Oh well), I paid $30 for a roundtrip aboard the inappropriately named “Executive Limousine Shuttle.” Hmmm….

Checked into a lovely room on the 10th floor of the hotel, unpacked, donned my walking tennis, and headed for the riverfront! After walking 4 blocks in the wrong direction,(“Why are these street numbers going UP? D’oh!”) I managed to find my way to the actual RIVER. It is hard to lose the Ohio River, but if anyone can do it, I can!

Meandered around by the Great American ballpark (Home of the Cincinnati Reds), Bengal Stadium, the Steamboat Monument, The Underground Railroad Freedom Museum, and the world’s only floating theatre (it’s a live theatre on an old paddleboat.)

I have no idea how far I walked (because I don’t have a pedometer, and even if I did, I couldn’t figure out how to program it, so, until someone gives me an automatically configured device, I’m going to have to overestimate. I’d say I walked 20 miles, but it was probably closer to about 4 – roundtrip — including going the wrong direction first.

Returned to the hotel around 7:30 and decided to shower and shine so I could be presentable for packing out goody bags with Kim and the OH team. I was really sticky from my walk — it was “river humid.”

About 9 PM, I started hearing really loud music and figured the people in the room next door were listening to their TV set REALLY, REALLY LOUDLY! Not so. Turns out they have live music every summer evening in FOUNTAIN SQUARE — 10 stories down from me. Yes, that was loud music (or they were thin windows…I haven’t decided which, yet.) So, I wandered downstairs to hear the music and shake my hips a little to the rhythm. It was DELIGHTFUL!

Next, I meandered back to the hotel to help with the folder assembly for the events (it was 10:15 PM). After we finished, I was all amped and couldn’t THINK of going to bed. So, Connie (Dr. Connie Stapleton) and I decided to go WORK OUT in the gym on the 17th floor. No, there are no windows. No, there was no fan on the elliptical. Yes, I worked out for 65 minutes and made it about 5.2 miles. By then, it was around 12:30, but too early for bed (!!!) — So, we sat under an icy cold blast of air (all sweaty and junk) and chatted until 2 AM! I got to bed around 2:30 and arose around 8:15 because SHANNON WATTS was going to be checking in at around 9:45

DAY 2:

As promised, Shannon (of Revival Soy fame) arrived and, after taking care of some orders by phone, we were off to the races! We wandered around downtown looking for a restaurant (there were none; don’t ask) and, after about 2 miles, ended up back at the hotel, where we decided to catch a cab to Mt. Adams. We got there around 12:30 and it was simply ADORABLE! Beautiful little town

We decided to eat lunch at the FISH HOUSE and it was divine! We split a salad (that had gorgonzola crumbles, dried cranberries, some out-of-this-world-dressing, and some other stuff that I can’t recall because I had slipped into a food coma.) Then, we split a planked mahi mahi with orange pepper sauce, steamed asparagus and roasted potatoes. We passed on the bread (thank you) and couldn’t finish our halves of the meal. Not that we didn’t WANT to, but our pouches didn’t permit

Our server, Michael (who was terrific, by the way), suggested that we “walk to Kentucky.” So, we did.

I’m not exactly sure how far it was (again, I think it was 47 miles, but it was probably more like 4 or 5) — but the walk was so fantastic, I’d do it again tomorrow! We commenced in Mt. Adams, Ohio, then traveled along the river front on a winding path that took us through lovely parks, by old homes, and over the freeway! We finally arrived at the much ballyhooed PURPLE PEOPLE BRIDGE — which took us over the Ohio River to: NEWPORT, KENTUCKY! See? We really DID walk from Ohio to Kentucky! After enjoying an ice sugar free skinny cinnamon dolce latte while Shannon stood under the misters to cool off, we grabbed a cab and headed back to the hotel so we could freshen up for the Q&A.

DAY 2: 3:30

Yea! The OH Event is officially underway

We took up our seats in the front row (notch) in front of the table of panelists: Terri Black (3-year post-op and OH Support Group Leader), Yvonne McCarthy (10-year post-op aka Bariatric Girl), Dr. Connie Stapleton (Psychologist extraordinaire), Dr. Garth and Dr. Robert Davis (you know them from Big Medicine and the Davis Clinic in Houston), Chef Dave, and Annessa Chumbley (registered dietitian and really adorable lady Lots of great questions about things like vitamin deficiencies and whether or not you actually need to drink protein shakes and take supplements after a year post-op. Jury is still out on this one. Dr. Davis says, “No!” and many others say, “Yes!” Also met a lovely new friend who just so happens to be a 5-year post-op who lost 437 pounds. Yes, you read that right. She amazed us all with her vitality and joy for living I cannot remember her name right now (because I am terrible at that), but I will never forget her!

Next, it was off to the Meet & Greet, where we were entertained by Bo McCoy and got to eat some amazing Mexican food. There was shredded chicken, beef and sauteed bell pepper, but I didn’t have that stuff. I hung around at the black beans (seasoned to perfection), cheese and guacamole! No tostadas for me. I can’t stop, once I start those things! Oh, I think there was fresh fruit, too…maybe? I dunno, but after waiting my hour after eating, I was ready for iced-tea and it was gone (you snooze, you lose!)

Oh well, off to shopping and exploring! Me, Shannon Watts, and Amy Fekete were on a mission to find some shoes, so we raced over to Macy’s…which, inexplicably closed at 8 PM on a Friday night. What-ever.

Amy saved the day by offering to drive us around in her sexy yellow Camaro (with black racing stripes, of course!) After all, we couldn’t waste our hotness on the hotel, right? We crossed the bridge and headed for Newport on the Levee, where we, once again participated in some retail therapy. Unfortunately, none of us found a darned thing (Except me…I bought a light up pig flashlight for my daughter. Don’t ask. It made me happy.) Shan and Amy walked into the candy shop (I don’t ask questions…I just wait) and Shannon emerged with a block o’ sugar free fudge, which we decided was more like a cross between a brownie and fudge, so I named it “frownies” or “budge” — either way, it was rich and we decided we wouldn’t binge on something like that.

After that, it was back to the hotel (ostensibly, to go to bed so we’d be rested for the early morning check-in and registration!)

DAY 3: 5:30 AM

For some reason, Shannon and I did not sleep much. We laughed and scratched until she fell asleep mid-sentence. On her face. Television on. Remote control lost. I think it was about 1:45 or 2 AM. Since I can only talk to myself for so long, I finally turned out the lights (but left the TV on, because I am technologically challenged like that.) She turned it off at 5:25 and I awoke at 5:30. Probably because the TV stopped making white noise at me.

I made the most perfect shake I have ever made in a hotel room. Slurp. I now understand that the secret to a successful shake on the road is the Almond Breeze. I MUST pack Almond Breeze — every time.

Made it downstairs at 7:30 sharp and it was time to work with “Kim’s-husband-Dave” to get people signed-in! What fun, meeting all of the wonderful attendees. Sorry, no tee-shirts in MEDIUM! EEEK. I had a minor mutiny on my hands when I had to announce that. Funny how we bariatric people are so proud of our new (and shrinking) sizes, we have no tolerance when the small sizes are unavailable!!!

Meanwhile, in the main ballroom, Bo was warming up the crowd, readying them for an amazing day of information, laughs, and entertainment.

First Up: Dr. Connie Stapleton (Pscyhologist). If you’ve never met or seen Connie, she is freaking adorable! I am not kidding when I tell you she is like a little sprite or something — a ton of energy, all packed into this little body that wears fabulous shoes and the cutest dresses you’ve ever seen. Why didn’t I take pictures of her adorableness??? Why? Why? Anyway, she talked about Life After the Honeymoon — which is what happens in the Bariatric After Life™, when you stop losing your weight and have to find a way to not only maintain, but thrive and be healthy and happy doing it! I love how she compares marriage to bariatric surgery — so many similarities, it’s scary (LOL).

Next Up: Dr. Garth Davis (Bariatric Surgeon and co-founder of The Davis Clinic - a weight loss center in Houston). He talked about how critical it is for us to STOP polluting our bodies with processed foods and – yes — MEAT. Watch Food, Inc. and you’ll understand where he’s coming from. He explained about how people in the “Blue Zones” live longer, healthier lives by living active, organic, vegetarian lifestyles. His talk is quite entertaining and persuasive, and I am doing my best to limit — if not eliminate — processed foods and artificial sweeteners. It is not going to be easy, and it won’t happen overnight, but I’m onboard.

Next: Chef Dave…but I missed him (I’m sorry!)

I had to go shopping and this was my only chance. Fortunately, I found the most rocking LBD — little black dress — you’ve ever seen, so I guess it’s okay that I missed his talk. Unfortunately, Shannon didn’t find any shoes or a top, so she came home empty-handed.

LUNCH! We had fresh fruit, cottage cheese, salad, and a choice of egg, chicken or tuna salad. Unfortunately ALL of these had too much mayo, and if you didn’t recognize it with the first bite, you were likely to dump. I didn’t “go there”, but many others did, and paid the price. Ugh!

Next Up: Yvonne McCarthy, Bariatric Girl, 10-Year Post-op
Yvonne gave the neatest talk, and it was STANDING ROOM ONLY! My two favorite parts ? When she put 120-pound Tracy on her back and walked around to demonstrate how much she (Yvonne) LOST after bariatric surgery, and when she hung tube socks with golf balls around her neck to show how her boobs looked before surgery. Hey! I had some of those, too Anyway, her talk was inspiring, informative and FUNNY! She rocked the house — you go, girl! Whoo-hoo!

Next Up: Mary Jo Rapini, LPC. Oh my gosh, she is HYSTERICAL! She talked about sex and relationships in the Bariatric After Life and even had VISUAL AIDS (which, she explained, she was brave enough to get through airport security just for us. Trust me, if you see what I mean, you’ll understand how much she really does love us!) Anyway, her talk was funny, informative, open and really, really uplifting. If you have NEVER heard a real sex-therapist talk, you have GOT to hear Mary Jo. She will have you texting sexy messages to your honey-bunny in 5 minutes flat. Turn down the lights, light up the candles, turn on the music — and head to OH Houston so you can hear her for yourself!!!

There were other speakers, too, but I was off running around and I missed them (sorry!) There was also a professional panel, where all of the professionals who had spoken took questions from the audience. I also missed that (sorry again, but there’s always Houston.)

*** NOTE: I blame Shannon Watts for missing these events. She made me go shopping. I’m serious. I didn’t want to. I also didn’t want to buy all of those Starbucks iced sugar free skinny lattes…I mean it. She is VERY persuasive like that. She threatened to withhold my Revival Soy Chips, and I can’t very well let that happen, right?

Anyway, this is where my story ends, because I was hit with a very bad case of hormones (I’m being general here, so the boys don’t get squirmy) and I did NOT get to go to the ultra-fun prize giveaway event OR the fashion show and dance. I am still pouting about this, because I bought that LBD and no one got to see it (except Shannon. She made me buy it. Did I tell you that?)

So, Shannon (probably because she felt so guilty about the whole “forced-shopping” thing) stayed with me in the room and kept me awake so I wouldn’t oversleep and miss my plane. We laughed until I snorted and I said evil things about bedbugs, and then we ordered room service (!) at 3:15 AM (we split a lousy salad). Shan helpfully put the tray out in the hallway. In front of the neighbor’s door. But she caught it…and put it in front of ours…so I could trip over it on my way out at 5:25 am. But, I forgot to tell you about the part where I thought it would be a good idea to take a 15-minute cat-nap (from 4 AM until 4:15, because I had my alarm set and everything.) Did I mention my amazing ability to wake myself up when I snore? Yes, I can do this — much to Shannon’s amazement. Anyway, at 4:35, I miraculously awoke to realize I had overslept because my phone was on SILENT (from all of the seminars, of course). UGH! Just enough time to shower and shine. Fortunately, I had taken 2-1/2 hours to pack between 1:00 AM and 2:30, so I didn’t have to mess with that. Yes, I am a terrible packer when I am tired and have cramps. Okay, I am a terrible packer ALWAYS, but I am WORSE under duress. And when people are LAUGHING at me (Shannon).

No time for the sun to rise — it was off to the airport to catch and ungodly-early flight back home (and get through airport security with my Labrada Lean Body protein shake and Protein Blitz drink. No, I couldn’t take my sealed bottled water with me, because they “have that on the plane.” Whatever.)

I was home before I knew it — well, probably because I managed to snore-wake-sleep my way through both flights, while managing to leave my reading glasses in the super-cute case in the back pocket of the airplane seat — ugh. We landed at 12:05 and I was at curbside, with my check-in baggage — by 12:16. I am not kidding you. That is what it is like to fly into Long Beach — and back to MexiKen’s waiting arms.

Sigh. I hate leaving him, but I did it for YOU ;-* LOL.

PS –Before I end this “too-long-epistle”, let me give a loud shout out to my girls, Yvonne and Connie! We (and Shannon) managed to “sneak in” a couple of meals and coffees throughout the weekend, and it was simply lovely. I had a blast, girls! Let’s do it again SOON! Muah!

See ya’ll in Houston — November 5-6, people. There’s STILL time!
Discount Code: GBBarbie!

My Emotional Garage (and a bunch of bariatric boxes)

I don’t know about you, but our garage is the picture of semi-organized chaos. Now, this is no swipe at MexiKen, because he does the best can to keep a crap load of…well, crap arranged (after a fashion) in a mere 400 square feet of space. In all honestly, I rarely set foot in the garage, mostly because there isn’t much room to move around, but also because I’m afraid of what I’ll find…or what will find me!

Remember that I Love Lucy episode where they moved to the country, but had to store all of their junk in the Mertz’s apartment until the house became available? Yeah, that’s our garage, except that we have a small pathway that leads to the extra refrigerator (where I store all of my Protein Blitzs, Propel Waters and Labrada Lean Body RTDs).

The point is, our garage is filled with a ton of stuff. There’s stuff I’ve forgotten we had, stuff I never KNEW we had, stuff that isn’t ours, and stuff that has clearly begun to generate its OWN stuff. I have no idea where things are or why they are even there. Except for the beach chairs, the bikes, the ice chests, boxes of Christmas decorations (MexiKen is Mr. Christmas, trust me) and these little display cabinets where he keeps his miniature car and airplane collection “for his future grandson.”

That’s about all I know.

Don’t ask me where my wedding dress is (I don’t wanna talk about it), or where my high school memory boxes went. Don’t ask me who owns the jumbo Rubbermaid storage bins, those two mattresses, the futon, the ugly end tables, or the lamps without lamp shades. And DON’T ask me what’s up in the overhead rafters. I don’t WANT to know.

My point is, I couldn’t tell you about everything in my garage if my life depended upon it, which is unfortunate, because the state of my garage is really metaphoric to my emotional self in the Bariatric After Life™.

Hmmmm….You didn’t see that coming, did you?

Let me explain.

This morning, I had one of those “D’oh!” moments, where I realized that I was doing something seemingly innocuous, but which was most likely responsible for some nagging pounds I’ve been trying to shed.

Before I tell you what I was doing, let me paint a picture of how my emotional self (garage) looks.

Since I was born, I’ve been shoving stuff into my emotional garage. In the beginning, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t putting things in there in any sort of logical way, but over time (probably as space began to run out), I took greater care in how I jammed stuff in. Think “Tetris” and you’re getting close. I’d see an opening that “looked” like a perfect fit for an emotion, and cram it in, not caring what I was burying in the process. I mean, maybe I “needed” something that I’d carelessly relegated to the bottom layer. In the back. Maybe I “needed” to combine that thing just out of reach with the new thing I was bringing in. Maybe I needed to get rid of some of the junk that was accumulating. But, who would ever KNOW? Maybe OTHER PEOPLE were cramming stuff into my emotional garage without my knowledge. Maybe those people were also TAKING stuff out of my emotional garage (when I wasn’t even having a yard sale!)

The point is, much like the garage in my house, my emotional garage is packed to the gills with heaven-knows-what, and even though I have been cleaning and cleaning and cleaning, there’s still stuff I haven’t reached yet (and aren’t aware of). On the one hand, I have tossed out a TON of emotional garbage; on the other, I’ve unearthed emotional garbage, but set it aside when I wasn’t ready to decide whether to keep it or pitch it.

Of course, just when I feel like my emotional garage is in order, I turn around and look in the driveway, where I see all of that stuff I took out, but haven’t dealt with yet. (Okay, if this sounds a bit like something that actually happened with my physical garage, it is. We actually ended up with stuff for 4 other people in our garage, because they died and there was no place to put everything.) Ahhh, that brings up an interesting point: Why were we willing to take on OTHER people’s stuff, without really considering how it would impact our EXISTING stuff? Was it because we felt we HAD to? The plot thickens. Fortunately, we have successfully divested ourselves of a healthy 75% of the stuff, but we still have plenty more to contend with. And, SOON!

But, I digress (as usual). Back to my emotional garage.

While I’ve been cleaning my garage, I’ve gotten a tad lazy in my decision making about what I’m going to keep and what I’m going to pitch. One of the things I’ve “thrown away” (at LEAST 10 times) in the past three years is: COFFEE. Now, I realize that coffee is not everyone’s enemy, but I happen to know, it is not MY friend. That being the case, I continue to welcome it in with open arms, encouraging it to stay as long as it wants — while storing everything that comes with it in my emotional garage. That includes stuff like dry creamer, Splenda and now, protein. (Because, of course, I got tired of Coffee’s company and thought I could make it healthier by dumping in protein.) Apparently, in my mind, protein cures all evils.

Okay, time for the “D’oh!” moment.

A few months ago, I fully recognized what I was doing to myself, every time I carelessly tossed in more partially-hydrogenated-corn-syrup solids and artifical-chemical-laden-sweetening agents. Not only was I adding unnecessary calories, I was ratcheting up my threshold for “sweetness,” while pouring caffeine into my body (instead of water.) Yes, I even tried to justify it as a liquid. So, I stopped drinking it.

That lasted for a week.

And then, I got a bunch of RTD protein that I wasn’t crazy about drinking, but needed to use. So, as I often do, I deluded myself into believing that I could throw two rocks at one bird, making the coffee “healthy,” while not “wasting” the sorta-yucky-by-itself RTD. Sounds reasonable, right? How smart of me!

So, I was off to the races.

• Hey, I can knock back 40 GRAMS OF PROTEIN before I even leave the house each morning!
• Hey! I can add at least 20 GRAMS OF PROTEIN when my energy is flagging in the afternoon!
• Hey! I didn’t factor this into everything else I was already consuming every day.

Uh-oh.

So, I was gleefully (and willingly) ADDING about 60 (at least!) grams of protein to my daily consumption — and NOT allowing for the CALORIES THAT ACCOMPANIED those protein grams.

Here’s where the lightbulb hit me square in the noggin this morning:

I HAVE BEEN CONSUMING ABOUT 500 EXTRA CALORIES A DAY WITH PROTEIN COFFEE.

How does that sound, people? Does that sound like someone who is in this maintenance game for the long run? Does this sound like someone who was killing herself on the elliptical each morning, JUST so she could keep pace with the extra (wasted) calories coming in each day? What about the mornings I DIDN’T work out? Huh? How do I explain THAT?

Well…it *does* explain the pesky pounds….I have been feeding them a steady diet of proteinated-coffee-in-the-name-of-thriftiness-and-resourcefulness.

And WHY was I doing this? Because I decided to shove that particular behavior back into my emotional garage, without any regard for what was already in there.

Fortunately, it’s never too late to fix a problem like this, so this morning, the very instant I put 2-and-500 together, I realized that I didn’t NEED my (usual-every-day) protein shake (and the 300 calories that went with it), because I’d already CONSUMED about 400 calories before 9 AM.

That was the first step.

The second step was to eliminate the reduced fat cheese from my mid-morning snack of black beans. The third step (as I sit here drinking a NON-proteinated-mug-o-coffee), is to NOT drink another cup of this stuff (with or without protein) later today.

You know what? Progress doesn’t always happen in gigantic forward motions. Sometimes, you have to take a few steps back — you know, step outside of the garage — so you can see what you’re really dealing with.

Life is not limited to the boxes in one small corner; it is the totality of everything you’ve stored up (whether you KNOW it’s there, or not).

I can tell you this: Tomorrow morning, I will NOT be adding protein to my ONE cup of coffee, and I WILL add Almond Breeze, instead of dry creamer.

I am going to continuing cleaning (and clearing) my emotional garage – but, I’m gonna be a LOT more stringent on what I’m willing to put back inside!!!

What does your emotional garage look like? Are you ready for a mental yard sale?

Barbie Celebrates Her 1 Year Blogiversary

1 Year ago today, I officially launched GastricBypassBarbie.com. Hard to believe, isn’t it? I mean, in those days, I didn’t know if anyone would find the site (let alone stick around and read my musings!) And if they actually did find me, I wasn’t sure they’d return! I vividly remember how excited I was to learn that 5 people had stopped by…or 1 person had left a comment. I was simply amazed that anyone would care what I had to say. Back then, I had no idea where the site would take me, how it would change over time, or how I would so radically evolve in the process!

Let me take you back to July 22, 2009.

I was 1-1/2 years post-op, and feeling as green as the day is long. A few, well-meaning people had “whispered” things into my ear that made me doubt whether I should even start a blog. They “helpfully” told me that I should “wait until I had three years of success under my belt” as a bariatric post-op; before I writing about my experiences; that way, people would “believe me more.” Other people told me that, since I was “so unusual” (in that, I’d lost more weight than the “average post-op,”) I’d just end up offending people, and no one would listen to anything I had to say, because it wouldn’t apply to them! In other words, there was a lot of negativity, disguised as supportive advice.

Fortunately, there was a lot MORE positivity and, being blindly optimistic, my passion for sharing won out! Well, *that* and I’m incredibly stubborn and impatient, so I didn’t want to wait. Of course, that didn’t stop me from wrestling with whether anyone would take me seriously for not having lived a very long bariatric after life. I had my doubts that I would find new and interesting things to say for longer than about a month; I wondered if I would always feel as enthusiastic, positive and successful as I did then. In July 2009, I was fresh, alive, inspired, largely unaffected by the online world…and filled with self-doubt.

When I pressed  the “Publish” button for that first time, I was both terrified and proud. After all, I had taken that first, big step –– even though I had NO IDEA where the road would take me.

Here’s how I would describe the Barbie from 1 year ago:

• Optimistic
• Wide-eyed
• Innocent
• Naive
• Encouraged
• Passionate
• Sensitive
• Thoughtful
• Motivated
• Healthy
• Focused
• Carefree
• Natural
• Reactionary
• Loving
• Generous
• Nervous

Well, I think it’s pretty clear to anyone who’s followed me over the course of the last 12 months that, while some things have remained the same, OTHER things are much different.

Here’s how I would describe the Barbie of today:

• Confident
• Focused
• Centered
• Grounded
• Guarded
• Positive
• Seasoned
• Aware
• Compassionate
• Skeptical
• Responsive
• Supportive
• Loving
• Generous
• Empowered
• Gratified
• Humbled

I’m sure I left out words from both lists, but I think you can see the idea. A lot of things can happen in 12 months, and my life is no exception. I wonder what the NEXT 12 months will hold? I guess we’ll have to wait until July 22, 2011 to find out

In the meantime, let me share a few, notable milestones from the past year:

1. I started seeing an amazing therapist (Jim) and we have made tremendous progress in ways I couldn’t have dreamed possible.
2. I have begun to find balance and harmony in my Bariatric After Life™ (work in progress)
3. I have become mentally and emotionally stronger, happier, more confident and deeper
4. I went to the 1st annual WLS Meet in Greet in Las Vegas as an exhibitor and speaker with MexiKen, Super Dave and Maid Marian Michele and made wonderful new friends and professional connections, including (in no particular order): Antonia Namnath – WLSFA.org, Dr. Bariatric, Sarah Will Be Skinny, Andrea JunglGirl, Lynnda, Mike and Toni, from BariatricTV, Ian McAgh and his lovely wife and son, T2Nashville, Tammy from Tennessee, Banded Wendy (and all the Banded Bitches), Nancy Weasel Hunt, ILTommyD (Tommy Dunmore from Illinois), JC (who had just begun his bypass journey about 3 weeks before the M&G), Amy Fekete (who videoed my talks), and a bunch of other people who are forever etched in my brain, but apparently not in my fingertips! You are not forgotten, I promise!
5. I launched my Youtube Channel (where, for the first time in my life, I do not run away from a video camera) and got to meet a bunch of remarkable people who comprise a vibrant and active WLS online community.
6. I joined Facebook and am rich with new and wonderful online friends.
7. I went to OH in Costa Mesa and made MORE wonderful new friends and professional connections, like: Dr. Garth Davis, Dr. Connie Stapleton (love her!), Yvonne McCarthy (Bariatric Girl), Teresa Dunn White (Celebrate Vitamins), Shannon Watts (Revival Soy) and many, many more!
8. I went to ASMBS in Las Vegas and — yes — made MORE wonderful new friends and professional connections: Susan Maria (Bariatric Eating), Dr. Guillermo Alvarez (Endobariatric, Piedras Negras, Mexico), Dr. Robert Davis, Dr. Marc from Bariatric Fusion, Eric, Kim and Kristin from Obesity Help and a bunch of other people whose names have escaped me, but whose impact on my life has not.
9. I participated in a photo shoot for the hospital where I had my RNY and will appear in their marketing materials. Billboards??? EEEK.
10. I will be attending the OH Conference in Cincinnati (crosses fingers) in August and Houston in November, and was even given my own discount code (GBBarbie) — How cool is that?
11. I have formed a team to participate in the Long Beach WALK FROM OBESITY (Team Barbie) in September, and already have 5 walkers and several sponsors.
12. I will turn “3-bariatric years old” in December.

This is, by no means a complete list but, it is from the heart. I mean, I knew my Blogiversary was coming up *soon,* but didn’t realize it was TODAY until I checked last night!  By golly, I was almost late to my OWN party (which is not hard to believe, if you know anything about me). So, while this is probably not how I envisioned my celebratory blog entry to read, it IS a finished blog entry, and it is published on the actual anniversary date, so I’m putting it squarely in the “success” column

Heck, maybe there’s a metaphor for my new life in there: I learn, I adapt, I risk, and then I do it all over again — whether I’m ready or not!

Anyway, I’ll leave you with this:

To those of you who have been with me from the beginning, I thank you for your encouragement and love.

For those who have discovered me along the way — and stuck around for the insanity — I thank you for your patience and fortitude.

For those of you who just found me today – I hope you will find something of value here on the site, return regularly, andl be encouraged to continue living the most fruitful and rewarding Bariatric After Life possible.

Most of all, to MexiKen, who continues to support and champion me as I forge my way through uncharted terrain, I give all of my love. I literally could not do this without his belief in me. He is my biggest fan (and I am his).

I’m not sure where this whole *thing* will take me, but I know this: Even though I don’t get paid a single penny to do it — but maybe one day will — I will continue to help others. It is my passion and my drug. My reward is knowing that, because I have chosen to be an open book with the online world, I have positively impacted others in ways I never imagined.

Though I have less “free time” than ever before, I am actually “freer” than I’ve ever been in my life, all because I am no longer ruled by “shoulds”, “colds”, “mights” and “musts.”

Thanks to all of you for your continued support, and let’s have fun in year 2!

Now, off to the elliptical!

Habits or Behaviors?

I haven’t blogged about therapy in awhile, and I thought I’d take a moment to share what happened on Tuesday morning (I now go Tuesday mornings, instead of Fridays or Thursdays, just so you won’t be confused).

I was talking to Jim about my frustrating — though enjoyable — trip to Mexico to pick up my in-laws. The long and short of it was this: I had packed my protein and told myself that I had everything I needed: Tortilla/Flax/Soy chips, instead of tostadas or corn tortillas; beans, cheese, Greek yogurt — heck, even salsa! For “sweets” I had brought a Power Crunch bar (peanut butter), and I had plenty o’ Protein Blitz and Propel Waters. Even brought a package of Body Tech Pro Pudding. In other words, I left nothing open to chance.

Now, for those of you who might not understand how things roll with Mexican families, when you arrive at a house, you are immediately offered FOOD. Okay, my family understands that I have my own food, and they are not offended that I can’t partake of the pozole (pork and hominy soup), or rice, or fideo (noodle soup). They truly understand and this is wonderful. So, I sat down with a bowl of beans, some of my sister-in-law’s salsa, my Greek yogurt, and a little melted cheese, and life was good. Until she put the stack of warm, fresh, corn tortillas on the table. I lasted…oh…about 5-1/2 seconds. BAM. Knocked back TWO (that I’m willing to admit) in a very short (painfully short) span of time. Yes, my pouch paid the price. But the salsa burned right through it and life was bién (otra véz).

Until the Mexican pastries came to town. Now, I hate Mexican pastries — they are dry and not sweet enough. Except for the stupid cortedillos — which are really nothing more than a trés leches cake with pink frosting and sprinkles. It was my Kryptonite before surgery, and it is still my Kryptonite now. Oh. and the stupid marshmallow cookies. And the iced cookies that I’d never seen before, but had to eat. By the handfuls.

Okay, I think you can see where this went: WILDLY AND UTTERLY OFF THE RAILS.

Thank God I was only there for about 24 hours, that’s all I can say.

Did I mention the churros? Two, DIFFERENT batches of churros? Plucked straight from the hot vat of boiling oil? Yeah, you can’t cross the border without eating them. It’s breaking some immigration law, or something. I’m serious.

Anyway, with that debacle behind me, I sulked my way into therapy and lamented that I was tired of Binge Barbie taking over my life, even though I make all sorts of plans and contingencies to steer clear of the trouble.

Sadly, we (Jim and I) did not arrive at a solution for that problem yet –– (why do they always have to buzz his office to tell him somebody else is waiting in the lobby just when I’m getting to the good stuff?)  –– although I believe we are laying the groundwork for progress and change.

HOWEVER, the session was not a total loss, and one of the things that did come up, was my abject dislike of the term “habits.” I hate that word: HABITS. Whether it’s preceded by the word “bad” (as in bad habits), or “good” (as in — something I am supposed to be creating in my Bariatric After Life.) Pffffttt.

See, I am a skeptic about recovery. That’s just the bottom line. I look at alcoholics and drug addicts, and all I see is a vast majority of people who DON’T “make it” and very, very small minority of people who do. (I am also, apparently, a pessimist about it). Perhaps I should stop watching “Intervention.”

Hmmm…I dunno.

Whatever the case, I tend to look at people who actually remain in recovery from their addictions as the RESULTS-NOT-TYPICAL crowd. I’ve written about this before in regard to my own experience as a post-op. I am a results-not -typical because I (at one point) lost way more than I wanted to. Apparently, I am not generous in my application of that label to all aspects of my life, so deep down (or not so deep down) inside, I have doubts that I will be able to overcome my binge addiction. I bristle when I hear people blithely tell me that “all I have to do is create healthy new habits to replace unhealthy old ones.” As if.

So, one of the ground rules I laid with Jim is the fact that we will NOT be working on developing any sort of habits for me. What we will be doing is establishing new behaviors to replace old ones. Now, that might just sound like simple semantics, but the point of it all is that when I hear the word “habits,” I think of the words “subconscious” or “automatic” — as in, I will learn to “automatically” or “subconsciously” do the right things because they will become HABITUAL to me.

Uh, no.

I believe — and perhaps I am mistaken, and maybe I am selling myself short — but I believe that my bad habits are deeply ingrained because they are LEARNED habits that were created when I was a blank slate. In other words, it was not hard to internalize them, because there was nothing in their place to start with.

Now, at age 43 (and some), to try and create a NEW habit would imply that I am dislodging the OLD habit, and I really don’t believe that is possible. I view it like a chalkboard. You remember how, when the teacher would erase the board to write something new, there would always be chalk residue, and even a little bit of writing left over? (That, by the way, was one of my pet peeves! If there was a HINT of writing left on the board, I would hyperfocus on it to the exclusion of all else on the board. Story for another day.) Okay, so the point of that metaphor is, when you erase the chalkboard, there’s still chalk-residue — old habits that you are trying to overwrite. But you always know there was something else there, and I think that gets in the way of replacing the old habit with a new one.

I believe that the only way I will succeed at beating this binge addiction thing is to reframe my strategy. I can’t comfortably target “subconscious habits” so I’m going to go for new learned behaviors which will never be intrinsic, intuitive, habitual or automated. I will always have to “stop, drop and roll.” You know? Like, stop the bad behavior in its tracks, think about the correct behavior, then implement the new behavior. I don’t really know if I will be able to do this every time, and when I’m not successful, will I just want to stop trying? I don’t know, but one would hope not.

Jim reminded me that, when treating an alcoholic, recovery does NOT necessarily mean complete and total abstinence. This revelation shocked, scared and excited me a bit. I mean, I am a very black and white person. If you’re an alcoholic, then you’re no longer in recovery the minute you take a drink. Black. White. I apply the same (flawed) definition to bingeing. The minute I binge — even a little, it’s all over.

Well, part of my goal is to find techniques to minimize harm from bingeing. Sounds like a tall order, but I’m up for the challenge. Even though I had a bad day yesterday. Ugh. Hey, nobody said it was gonna be easy!

So, that’s what’s been happening in therapy. I have some other thoughts, too, but my brain and fingers are tired for now, so I will blog more later.

AS MUCH CALCIUM AS A GLASS OF MILK!

(So proclaims the packet of Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate)

What’s your first impression when you read that? If you’re like MOST people, it’s: “Hey, it must be healthy! As much calcium as an entire glass of milk?! Who knew?”

Right.

So, here’s how my little brain works now (because it is skeptical and questioning of EVERYTHING):

1. How BIG a glass of milk? 8 oz.? Too much for me.
2. What TYPE of milk? Skim? Whole?
3. How MUCH calcium is actually in that glass of milk?
4. How much calcium do I NEED each day?

Now, understand that I would never dream of using this product — aside from the fact that it is loaded with sugar, it’s nothing I need — but my point is, in my Bariatric After LIfe™, I have learned to apply the same healthy logic to ALL products — EVEN those targeted directly to us bariatric types!

I guess it’s funny that, in this “sound bite” world where we all have the attention span of fleas sometimes, marketers have learned to whisper nonsense into our ears, and we believe it! Case in point:

• Fat Free! (Not sugar free)
• Low-Calorie! (Not fat free)
• No Added Sugar! (But has sugar)

If there is one thing I hope for all of us, it’s that we learn to ignore the headlines and go immediately to the fine print. Read the “second-to-the-last” paragraph of the article; turn the page; do whatever it takes to get the FULL story. Our bariatric bellies do not forgive us for ignorance of the law; when it comes to our bodies, we will GET exactly what we GIVE.

As much Calcium as an entire glass of milk? Who cares? I take Calcet Bites or chew my Celebrate wafers and do just fine (thank you).

Just some random thoughts for a Wednesday hump day afternoon. Now, off to my mani-pedi.

Epiphany: No WONDER I thought I was fat.

I had a strange little memory while working out on the elliptical this morning. In a flash, I was 8 years old again, and I was in the try-on room at Zody’s (an old store like Kmart). Of course, nothing was fitting, and my mom had to keep sending in bigger and bigger sizes until we found pants that would fit around my sizable rear. Unfortunately, finding something big enough for my “big butt” automatically meant that the waist would be miles too big, since there was no such thing as “spandex,” “elasticized waists” or “drawstrings” in the junior department. My mom would inevitably have to “take it in” and “take it up.”

I concluded that, because nothing fit, I MUST BE FAT.

Who could actually FIT these things...?

...or these?

Now, if you’ve been reading me for any period of time, you’ll know that I’ve lamented about the trauma/drama of not being able to wear the designer jeans of the day (the saddleback Dittos, sailor front Chemin de Fer, and stitched pocket Jordache), and I’ve mentioned that my thighs were too “extreme” for the cute shorts everyone wore (Dolphin and OP, mostly), but it occurred to me this morning that the fact that I couldn’t “FIT” into the über straight cut clothes didn’t make me FAT; it made me CURVY.

It’s a shame I didn’t make that connection back then, because I might have avoided a life of morbid obesity. Unfortunately, the words “curvy” and “pretty” weren’t celebrated on the pages of Teen Dream, 16 and Tiger Beat magazine. No, back in those days, the cover girls we envied were Cheryl Tiegs and Christie Brinkley: Gorgeous, tan, blonde, leggy bombshells who were NOT recognized for any curves below the waistline. And, of course, they were always photographed in bathing suits — another area where I couldn’t find anything that fit, because of the tremendous disparity between my “top” and my “bottom.” And, in case you’re wondering why I was looking to older models for reference, the younger ones CERTAINLY didn’t have curves (or weight problems), either. You had Tatum O’Neal, Kristy McNicol and Valerie Bertonelli (who, as we since learned, did battle her weight, but it never showed in her jeans, and no one ever talked about it!) Great choices for a curvy kid, right?

Essentially, because of the barrage of messages from the media – which was still recovering from the days of Twiggy, thank you very much, plus, a dearth of curvy role models (Sophia Loren? Marilyn Monroe? Where were you?), my conclusion that I was FAT was not unnatural or unexpected; it was just unfortunate.

Of course, now that I’m happily enjoying the Bariatric After Life™ and can easily fit into things “off-the-rack” it would be easy to say that I’ll never have self-doubt again. But, trust me, I still have trouble with things being small — only now, it’s UP TOP! (Juniors don’t have a C-Rack) I’m just saying

Fortunately, because of my therapy, constant self-analysis, self-correction, and emotional clarity, when something DOESN’T fit, I no longer conclude that there must be something wrong with ME. I now see that my body is as unique as I am, and the clothing I wear does not DEFINE me; it merely reflects my personality and zest for life.

How sad that it took nearly 40 years for that message to sink in, but how glorious that it didn’t take 40 more!

How about you? Was there a defining moment in your life that set the wheels for obesity in motion?

My Life as a “Before”

I get lots of requests for “before” pictures. Just about every day, someone will say, “You look great now, but what did you look like before?” And you know what? I am hard pressed to show them, save for a few really horrible shots. I’m sure there are more floating around out there…somewhere…if I didn’t burn them or tear them into a million pieces at the time. I just don’t know WHERE they are. This is a very sad reality for me because, today as I look back over the course of the past 2-1/2 years (exactly), I realize how hard it is to prove I even existed for all of those years before December 10, 2007.

The “after” me chides the “before” me for not taking at least ONE freaking “official” before picture the night before surgery. But the “before” me responds that she was too afraid of failing.

Again.

She was terrified that the “final official before” picture would turn out to be proof of yet another failure.

Those are really hard words to write, but they are true.

Even after shedding those 50 pounds before surgery — even then — I still believed I might fail at “surgery.” I was still mortified by what the camera saw; still in denial and disbelief at the person staring back at me from a puffy face with eyes buried beneath chubby cheeks, and a mouth hovering above a triple chin.

As much of an optimist as I am today, I must tell you that, even in the final moments before surgery, though I never let on, I was terrified it would be a wasted effort. I could never really see myself as an “after,” so why would I need a “before”?

I guess the reason I’m writing this is because I want to stress a few things:

1) If you have not yet had your surgery — TAKE A BEFORE PICTURE. Take lots of them. From all angles. Yes, even from the rear view. Be sure to smile — not because you are happy about the way you look, but because you are excited about the person you will become. If you have already had surgery, but are early in the process, take a ton MORE pictures. You’ll need them to prove your success to yourself. Trust me.

2) Be gentle with yourself; you’re the only “you” you’ve got.

3) If you have had your surgery, but have not yet gotten to the point where you love what you see in the mirror (or in the camera’s lens), forgive yourself for all that happened before and believe in all of the good things to come.

4) If you have reached your “happily ever after,” and are so darned smitten with yourself that you can’t even pass a security camera without smiling, waving and looking for the monitor, celebrate the gift of this surgery, but never forget where you came from.

5) Remember your “before” self, but love the “after” self enough to never go back.

Today, 2-1/2 years after bariatric surgery changed my life, I am thankful for good health, great joy, tremendous love and amazing beauty. I suppose I don’t need a lot of “before” pictures to remember the dark years, so I’ll stop beating myself up and just enjoy the very happiest Bariatric After Life™ possible.

I hope you will do the same.

Fantasizing, Romanticizing, Giganticizing

Last night, I climbed into bed and my brain immediately switched into “overdrive.” Now, I realize that this is not a good place to be when I should be sleeping, but, next to the shower, it is where I do some of my very best thinking.

So, here’s where this posting all began: The word “romanticizing” popped into my head, because this is what I have been guilt of doing lately. You see, I have been wrestling with a few extra pounds (a reality which does not make me happy, but does give me something to work on!) Anyway, the more I thought about those pounds, the more i realized that there are a host of “IZING” words that could quickly consume and overwhelm my successful Bariatric After Life™– if I let them.

Let me explain:

As a pre- and early post-op, I would spend my days FANTASIZING about what I would look like when I lost the weight. I spent a bunch of time poring over “Before and Afters,” marveling at the monumental differences people experienced; wondering if I would ever reach that same goal, and if I did, what I would look like. Essentially, I was living in fantasyland every free moment I had.

Don’t get me wrong, fantasizing is not a bad thing, as long as it is based in some sort of reality, and involves a solid plan for achieving it. I think i was pretty realistic in my planning, because my original goal was very generous and, ultimately, more-than achievable.

Well, as a post-op, I blew past my original goal, to the tune of about 40 pounds, and found myself in a scrawny, skinny, meatless body with jutting bones, sunken eyes and cheeks. At the time, I KNEW that I was too thin and KNEW that my body would rebound to a healthier weight. But, somewhere inside, I was having this battle between what I KNEW was healthy, and what I actually LOOKED like.

As I remove my rose-tinted glasses and look back at myself with honest eyes, I can assure you that MexiKen did not love the way my little body looked — I had lost all of my curves, had no butt, and couldn’t fit grown-up people clothes. I looked silly in my baggy things and was constantly lamenting that I couldn’t wear some of the pretty clothes I was finding on the racks. Size 4’s weren’t just too big – they LITERALLY slid down to my ankles. It really was not pretty.

But, over time, I regained a little weight, those size 4’s began to fit properly, and I started “filling out.” Eventually, I settled in at a comfortable size 6 — a good place for my 5′8″ frame. I had a little butt and a few curves and no one complained that I was too skinny (or too fat). I looked healthy and felt great. Except that I kept going and overshot my “ideal” by about 8-10 pounds. Now, this is unacceptable, because I find myself outside of my new comfort zone, where things don’t quite fit as comfortably anymore.

It occurs to me, that what I have been doing is ROMANTICIZING my previous underweight status. I have been whispering sweet nothings into my brain, convincing myself that being a size 2 was wonderful, because nothing was ever tight or binding, and whatever I tried on always fit. Of course, I know this is NOT true, but this is how romanticizing works. You forget the realities, hardships, disappointments and struggles, and recast them as happy, glowing, glorious times.

Fortunately, I have not allowed myself to marinate in that kind of stinking thinking, because it is not only counterproductive — it is a LIE.

But, where do I go if I can’t romanticize or fantasize? Well, if you’re unhealthy, and fighting a few extra pounds, you can quickly begin to GIGANTICIZE. This is what happens when you start to tell yourself that you are a “big, fat loser.” You begin to exaggerate the reality of your body and what the scale is reporting, and start obsessing over weight regain. When giganticizing happens, you panic and your fat head runs the show. After all, you gained 5 or 10 pounds and now you are GIGANTIC.

Clearly, you can see the downside of this thinking, because it is neither productive nor empowering.

But, if you aren’t careful, giganticizing quickly turns to MINIMIZING. As in, “I *only* have 5 or 10 extra pounds. I’ve lost 150 or 160, and I’m fine with this weight regain. It’s not a big deal, and I’m sure I can lose it, if I want to.” In other words, you can quickly MINIMIZE the scope of the problem by using old criteria as your gage. “I used to weigh 316 pounds; I’m nowhere NEAR that now, so why is this a problem?”

Well, that brings me to the 4th “izing” word: RATIONALIZING. If you allow yourself to move into rationalizing, you are on a slippery slope to inevitable weight regain. Why? Because rationalizing goes hand-in-hand with apathy and denial. When you rationalize, you are actually telling yourself RATIONAL LIES.

So, what is the solution to this destructive “izing“?

Here are 5 little steps to replace BAD “izing” words with GOOD “izing” words!

Step 1: RECOGNIZE
Realize that you have a problem; that things aren’t going the way you want them to go, and you need to DO something before it is too late.

Step 2: VISUALIZE
Make some decisions about your recovery. What do you WANT the rest of your life to look like? What do you feel is a good and realistic weight for you to maintain? How will your body look and feel? Formulate that vision, then make that your goal.

STEP 3: LEGITIMIZE
Is your vision reasonable, achievable, and maintainable? Is it LEGITIMATE? If it is, then cement that vision in your mind; make it tangible, real and worthy and don’t let ANYONE or anything distract you from accomplishing it. Make it your driving force.

STEP 4: EMPHASIZE
Opposite of minimizing, in this step, you begin EMPHASIZING the legitimate vision you have created for yourself. You must make it a priority. Here, you are saying, “This is my goal and I will accept no less. All of my thoughts and actions must reinforce this vision to ensure it becomes and remains my reality.”

STEP 5: EXERCISE
No, I don’t just mean going to the gym or taking regular walks (although that is a part of it.) There’s more to this step than that. Here, you must EXERCISE good choices, healthy lifestyle habits, and positive thinking, in order to achieve and maintain your vision. This step is the most important of ALL of the steps, because it involves both mental AND physical exercise. It is a DOING word that involves meaningful and positive ACTIONS.

Do you find yourself “izing“? Perhaps you are guilty of Catastrophizing (a word I didn’t use above, but might be true?) — Perhaps you are blowing your situation so far out of proportion, you feel that you have no hope.

Well, there is ALWAYS HOPE — I know this, because I am a living, breathing, walking miracle, and people who are given the gift of a second chance at life have no right to be HOPELESS.

Here’s the bottom line: You can choose to FANTASIZE, ROMANTICIZE, GIGANTICIZE, MINIMIZE and RATIONALIZE until you find yourself regaining weight and losing control, OR, you can follow the 5 easy steps, and REGAIN CONTROL of your Bariatric After Life™.

Start MAXIMIZING your potential. Don’t MARGINALIZE your healthy life. Get started, get focused, and take charge of what matters most.

I know I DID.