Wednesday, December 30, 2009

New Year, New Decade, New Shaggs!


In the spirit of the New Year and some of my fellow bloggers coming clean about their tainted and tortured pasts I have decided to post these pics.

This is me this time last year. I was swollen, bloated, anxious, depressed and just (literally) itching to get out of my skin. I had called every single surgery who performed
lap banding and they were all closed and I just couldnt wait to speak to someone. I was banded almost one month exactly after these photos. I only allowed these photos to be taken because I knew one day soon I would be looking at them as pictures of "old shaggs".
On that note, I'd like to thank you all for being in my life and sharing your lives and advice with me and wish you all a Happy New Year full of dreams and wishes come true!

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Festive 14!!!!




Yes as promised this is me in size 14 jeans!

Sorry about the arse shot - just couldnt help myself!

And that just about wraps up my New Years resolutions for 2010 - all done!

WARNING - SIZE 14 PIC TO COME!!!! STAY TUNED!!!!

A quick blog because something monumental happened to day - I bought size 14 pants (thats US size 10 - sounds so good!) You know, we can get so hung about numbers and our weight on the scales and whether or not people notice that we have lost weight etc etc etc. All I can say definitively is that this time last year my jeans (the ones I'm wearing in the pic to the left) were size 22 (I wouldnt even have considered wearing 3/4 pants - far too much skin showing!) and today I am comfortably wearing size 14 (3/4 jeans) from a standard shop not plus size just plain old plain old. I'm sure people look at me strangely when I say I've lost nearly 20kgs but I'm a pretty short girl and I've worked out that for every 5-7kgs I lose I also go down a size so maybe from now on instead of saying "I've lost nearly 20kgs" I'm going to say "I've gone down 4 dress sizes and before you pull a face or make a strange noise - stick it up your arse!"

We're also coming up to our one year anniversary (10th Feb) and it was this time last year I was making appointments and getting excited (and I was also at the lowest point in my physical life) and I've been thinking about all of the strange pre-conceived ideas I had about the band and how I thought it'd be and how different and how spectacular this reality is. I took some photos back then of me in my cozzie and some really bad ones when I was feeling really low and really hopeful about the band and I cant wait to find them and post them all for you - I really need to express the difference in my quality of life and my happiness that the band has brought to me - its really hard to express when you dont have a gobsmacking loss (well not to anyone else anyway - I'm stoked) to leave everyone gasping but man - my life has done a complete 360 in under 12 months. Its been gradual but it has actually happened and it cant be undone! YAY!

I've got fake tan on at the moment but I'll be getting dressed soon so I'll take a pic and post it then.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Check the gazongas on that!!!!

Yes the waist may be getting smaller and the arse a little more "junk in the trunk" and a little less "critical mass overload" but man, those titties just keep on keepin on! There I was trying to suck in the gut, adjust the hair, control the jowls and hold just the right yogic pose for the final pic update of 2009 and low and behold the puppies steal the show and give me a whole new world of situations to adjust and cope with. I just cant wait for the circus freak that will be me size 8 with size 22 E cup babies! The husband is beside himself with delight! I really didnt mean for this pic to be a boob fest but man - you can't suck in your chest and you cant keep a good boob down (actually mine stay down on their own - they require some serious scaffolding to stay up).

Anyhoo, I have just had a fill. Call me mental crazy or the holier than thou bandster of 2009 but the fact remains I got a fill one and a half weeks before xmas (aka - food fest). Thank you to me! And of course I'm celebrating with a champers - it is liquid after all and I swear if I drink anymore of the stuff I'll be able to put a nozzle on the above mentioned puppies and start pouring straight from the tap! I would like to hog out right about now and eat but I'm aware we're in crazy times with my fills at the moment and I'm erring on the side of caution from here on in.

I lied to get in for an appointment tonight also you will all be proud to know. I called in the ooger boogers and my old scamming grandma (she would cut in line and stand at the front and when someone would point out "there's a line up" she would put on her best dazed and confused old lady look and say "yes, I know isnt it terrible?"). I have waited 3 months for an appointment after appointments had been cancelled etc etc and my appointment was actually for next week. I have called everyday asking if there had been any cancellations and yesterday the woman mentioned that I should call at night and see if they could squeeze me in. Which got me thinking.....

So I drove an hour tonight and turned up without and appointment praying that the ooger boogers were right. I pretended my appointment was tonight and can you believe the computer was down?????? And can you believe they let me in and I got a fill????? Love my cowboy doctor and loved the receptionist so much I took her a present (another thing the ooger boogers suggested) so I feel we're karmically clean.

I can feel my fill which is a lovely sign and since I saw the cowboy 3 months ago I have lost 4.9 kilos so we were all very happy and back slapping etc and now I'm all set for xmas and I should be safe from going haywire on the food and I'm feeling ready for anything!

By the way, that photo was taken on Friday morning and is pretty much the way I've been feeling lately - just so blessed and so beautiful and so full of love and light! Puking kind of stuff I know but really - the world is a beautiful place.

Love to all of you beautiful bloggers and may you all have a beautiful day ahead of you.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

(Un)Bride for a Day


I think we've spoken before of my unwedding day? The day I got married in a maternity dress, had fights with most of my family, shared a pig on a spit and coleslaw in my parents backyard and missed out on the wedding cake (and saying goodbye to most of the guests) because I was taking my grandmother in law home? You know the day?? Well, I was never really one for the whole white dress and walking down the aisle idea UNTIL I learnt that as a wife and mother you only get ONE DAY in your whole entire life that is ENTIRELY about you and your princess fantasies. Had I known back on the 21st November 1998 that I would no longer exist as an individual let alone an individual deserving of a few moments of princessness I would have gone the whole bridezilla and had a huge full one wedding frou frou dress and all!!!

So as you all also know, when I get down to a fantasy size I am going into a wedding boutique and having the time of my life trying on every gown possible preferrably just like the one in the pic (down the left hand side of the blog). Fun! It seems tho the universe had a whole new plan for me and hey, I'm along for the ride and I like where the ride took me on Wednesday last week!

I was with one of my lovely besties who was in town to pic up her unwedding dress. (The wedding or relationship isnt happening anymore) but we went in and she decided to try on her dress to take some pics to sell the dress on ebay. Well the lady who helped us out just couldnt have been more lovely and joyously sharing in the fun of being with the two unbrides. You see we had planned that I would try on my BFF's dress also to in some way experience the fantasy but something strange happened.....

During the course of trying on her dress (sorry back to the ooger boogers) there was a distinct presence with us (my bestie nursed her mother to her death about 12 years ago and mum was DEFINITELY there sending little messages and it became very apparent that BFF should keep her dress cause she'd be needing it!) The whole energy of the situation changed and it felt like we had cleansed and annointed the dress and that it should definitely be kept and I would definitely not try it on cause it would just feel wrong.

So, my lovely lady helped me try on one of theirs and can you believe the ooger boogers took me straight to where I found the ONLY size 18 frou frou dress in the place!!!!! In amongst the size 8 sheaths and the 2500 size 10 silk explosions my dress flung itself at me and before I knew what was happening I was being squished and choked into the dress of my dreams albeit a few sizes bigger than I'd planned but there was no time like the present. Never again would the stars align in such a fashion that the energy, the glorious boutique, the lovely sales assistant and my lovely BFF would all come together to be with me at that moment. As the zip was finally heaved into submission wedding bells rang loudly throughout the PA system in the shop (I kid you not!) and we were all moved to tears!! It was one of the most sublime and inexplicable moments of my life even these words do not describe the love, joy and utter fantasy of the moment.

Can you tell by the pics?

Thank you ooger boogers for pulling out all the stops.......













Wednesday, November 18, 2009

The Summer of Shaggs


OMG! Over a month without a post! There is so much to write about, pics to post and love to share and its coming I swear (just not right now!) Actually living life with not much time to write about it. Weight has stabilised around 87-88kg. Still love my band. Contemplating another fill before xmas to keep me honest over the festive season - remember girls (and boys) its Christmas DAY not Christmas MONTH! (another weight watchers gem!). Done some more fabulous shopping around Melbourne (freakin brilliant shopping!) and I am pleased to say I havent bought one black item - my wardrobe is a festival of colour!! A veritable rainbow of summer lovin! A lick of fake tan, a new haircut and dye job and man - this is the summer of Shaggs!!!!

To give you some idea of what we're dealing with here - this is a pic of me at the school trivia night collecting one of the major prizes.

Here are ten quick facts about that evening:
1. I sat at a table with at least three people whom I would consider "friends" and even a "best" friend!!!
2. I drank far too much
3. I made 80 people laugh and cheer for me (move over Britney)
4. I provided sexual innuendo for every single question asked no matter how dry eg: when asking Melbourne Cup (a famous horse race in Australia) questions such as "who rode the winner" I of course answered (very loudly) "my husband!!!"
5. I did not answer one single question correctly despite being famous for knowing useless crap ie: trivial facts.
6. I won the 2 major prizes of the evening (based on luck not correct answers) One was a hamper worth $700 and the other an 8GB MP3 video/audio player. Thank you to the ooger boogers for the luck cause let me tell you - I NEVER win anything! I dont mind so much but really it was an amazing feat. I had done some free readings that week for some very needy people and I guess it was the ooger boogers way of saying thanks (not necessary but very nice)
7. I was in the toilet when one of these prizes was won in the major raffle - thats how sure I was that I wasnt going to win
8. They found me in the toilet in order to give me the prize
9. I now have LOTS of friends around the neighbourhood who I have no recollection of ever meeting but they all seem to know me (and thats ok - lots of people waving and smiling with kids following up behind them in the school's uniform)
10. The only child in the room was at my table. BIG mistake! My daughters questioned my sobriety on the night later in the week (after talking to the said child) and when I crumbed and displayed horror and mortification they finished with "dont worry mum - he said you were hilarious" noice.

All I can say is "FUN". I made some lovely friends out of the night so I would consider it a success despite it getting kinda messy.

Bring on summer - Shaggs is READY!!!!

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Does thinking about walking count?


I am horrified to say I didnt walk (totally forgot all about being accountable to you guys) and seeing as its 4am and I cant sleep I dont think I'll be walking this morning either - or maybe I will if I'm still up???

Dont know how I've managed to keep 3 children alive this long I'm so unreliable.

Cant put sentences together anymore.

Keep on me about this wont you guys?

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Happy Life Boring Blogger


My life is almost perfect. If I had one of these bottle stoppers for the copious amounts of summer afternoon drinks I have been consuming I would be no happier but perhaps a little more complete and I would have an interesting little conversation starter.

Things are motoring along nicely here in the land of Shaggs. The weight has kind of plateaued which is actually a good thing for this time of the month (and not to mention the hedonistic life I have been leading) - I'm just riding the wave (of hormones and weight). I have to constantly pinch myself with my life at the moment - the warm weather is starting to outweigh the cold miserable weather, we go fishing, to the beach, the park, in the spa, we hire awesome boats and scoot around the bay, we have friends over for BBQ's, we (I) drink too much, friends and family come from all over to stay and holiday with us. People are coming for readings and work is picking up to a very nice level. Its lovely. No buts. No ifs and no "howevers".

Boring, hey?

I told you happy posts are nowhere near as entertaining as the comedic, hollow despair that is one of life's downslides.

I have questioned the tightness of my band on several occasions. Sometimes too tight and sometimes I wonder should I really be able to consume what and how much I do eat? Perplexes me. I know for sure its time to start pulling some weight of my own and I REALLY want this summer to be more comfortable and full of pretty summer cotton. I have also found myself slipping into the whole "eat whatever goes down" diet plan and going hard on the chips and chocolate and WAY too much alcohol. Having a nice life certainly brings far too many opportunities to eat and drink far too much and far too much fabulously tasty fatty food and drinks.

Perhaps I should use this boring post as an opportunity to put it out there........

I am going for a walk tomorrow morning and I expect you all to hold me to it. You must all ask via the comments section if I went for a walk and if I neglect to post for a week you know I haven't done it and I need to be called in for questioning. I really need your help on this one guys.

Can you all believe how my life has turned around from the pits of despair I found myself in 2 months ago? I made my wishes and I believe the universe has delivered. I still miss my family and friends in Sydney but my friends and lovely life here certainly ease the pain. Or it could be that my severe life threatening 3 monthly mood cycle hasnt yet reached its full swing? We'll see - lets keep an eye on the dates one month from now will I be psychotic again? And yes I do expect you all to remind me of this.




Thursday, October 1, 2009

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

This Fat Chicks' In Luuuuurve!


I'm in love with a little silicone band.

87 87 87 87 87 87 87 87 87 87 87 87 87 87

kilograms, that is......

87 kg today! Well f$%^&*( me! That is just freakin amazing!

Loving my fill. Loving my band. Totally understand what this thing is all about. I can eat. But very carefully and very slowly. Had a bad really tight day on Sunday but just did liquids and now I'm great! No puking for two days and did I mention I weigh

87kg

I have not been that for about 2 years or more and then it was because I was busting a nut at the gym. Ha! Before that it was 6 years ago and busting a nut at weight watchers.

I'm not busting a nut now, I'm gonna bust a move.....

"Loving youuuuuuuuu is easy cause you're beautifullllllllllllll"

I love you band, I really really really love you.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

School Holiday Fun


So I didnt die over night with an eroded band and I'm here to tell the story that I love this fill and my band and I saw 88kg today. Admittedly the scales couldnt decide whether to stay 88.8 or go to 90 and since they only move in . 2 increments it could have been and 88.9 either way I saw the good side of 90 and I'm happy.

Its school holidays here and I'm actually surviving and maintaining a reasonable level of sanity. The fill has laid off a little which is reassuring and I was able to eat some lasagne last night which REALLY filled me up and wasnt really that much. I do, however, find that it does still go down rather quickly!? Maybe I need to try something more solid before I pass judgement but I did get VERY full on a VERY small amount - thank you Mr Band and my gun slinging, rootin tootin cowboy doctor.

My beautiful little poodle puppy Peter has now learnt to pick up his own lead and basically ask to go for a walk and will not enter back into our driveway until he is spent so walking it is for me now.

I now take back everything I said about school holidays - stay tuned on youtube for footage of a mother going medieval on her three little farts.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Me and My Cowboy (Doctor, that is)


So drove the one hour to get to the doctor last night and boy was he worth it!!! And boy am I filled!!! (We may all look back to this post and sigh with regret when I am hospitalised with an eroded band) BUT - I am loving this! Just the feeling of air in my stomach is filling YAY! I can feel summer coming on!

Finally I feel some respect and reverence for the band and this whole procedure. Now I wouldnt dare not be on liquids for a day and then mushies. I wouldnt dare scull diet coke after red meat. Perhaps the band is going to force me into following the rules YAY! WOW!! Could this be the beginnings of Utopia (or a major health scare)? either way I'm loving this. I can feel liquids go down! Thats cool! I've had a cappuccino and an opti filth soup for breakfast and morning tea and I could feel it all go down. Can you believe I am in such a good place I could actually consume (voluntarily) opti? Anyhow, I am going to have to be REALLY careful with this one. Wow, isnt this how it should always be? Careful or dead. Sounds like a plan Stan. This sounds like the bandsters I met in the beginning who were really successful, they were also REALLY careful.

So my doctor was great. Very knowledgeable and comforting with a dash of cowboy. HE asked me all the questions and then TOLD me what we were going to do. No thinking required of me whatsoever! Loved it! Love being dominated except when I dont. Probably shouldnt have got a whole half a ml (.25 would have been fine) but really, lets stop stuffing around. Lets at least try being really over filled so we have base line but I am secretly hoping the fill lays off just tiny bit (I guess it will this is just day one after all) I'd be really reluctant to eat solids the way I feel right now BUT - THATS HOW ITS SUPPOSED TO BE!!! YAY!!!!!! I have a lapband. I have been getting kind of funny telling any new friends I have a lapband which would suggest some kind of restricted diet or eating and I'm pretty much chowing down on anything (and occaisionally running for a quick chuck). Now I really am going to have to be a high maintenance eater. And once again YAY!

So me and my cowboy have a secret meeting place for our next hook up - I'm not allowed to tell anyone about it as no one knows. He sometimes visits a clinic close to my house so instead of mustering my big ol' cowhide an hour away I can conveniently trot myself off just 20 minutes away - noice! Thanks cowboy - you made my day!

Oh and of course - he's not too bad on the eye either! (If you like the older man situation which I know many of you out there would appreciate!)


Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Fill er up!

So, we're down to losing the same two kilos over and over again except these two kilos are the 89 and 90 mark and not the 95 96 or otherwise. And tonight, for the first time in 3 months I am going for a fill! Or am I? By the time I get there tonight wearing a pair of jeans and a day's worth of food under my belt I will weigh the same as I did 3 months ago at my last fill (that was in the morning and I dont think wearing jeans) which is approx 92kgs. Now, the doctor of course will probably reach for the fill needle but I'm just not so sure.

Reasons why I should be filled:

Not very impressive weight loss (if any)
Can and will eat more than a side plate full
Hungry about 1.5 - 2 hours after eating
Still feeling hungry
Can eat almost anything without too much of a problem
I can feel the food has left my stomach about 10 minutes after eating

Reasons why I shouldnt be filled:

Still get stuck (but could this be my own stupid fault)
Tend towards the sloppy fatty foods when prone to getting stuck
General trend is weight loss not gain
Can maintain a sustainable level of satisfaction if I eat properly and follow rules (but it can be trying)

So, to fill or not to fill??? I still have not reached Utopia (total disinterest in food as per post op). I have listened to long term bandsters saying they cannot do ANY of the things I do on a daily basis eg: eat bread, eat fast, eat almost anything. I would LOVE to lose some serious weight for this whole thing they call summer. I'm starting to remember the horror and total self destruction of getting around on 40 degree (celsius) days sweating like a pig covered up in winter clothes. But am I ready to go back to getting stuck like a dog all the time? Maybe I am, its only the stupid snacking, eating out and shit foods that get stuck anyway its not really the tight band. I've had a taste - I got used to it I hit the 80's and I think I'm ready for more.

Maybe just a little top up and see how that goes???

Maybe its up to the doctor?

We'll see.....



Friday, September 11, 2009

Onederland in the 80's

I'm living in the 80's!!

So could this be the calm after the storm or the calm before the next storm, either way as we all know in the life of this food junkie, its a roller coaster comparable only with that of a diagnosed bi-polar schizophrenic (I wouldnt rule out being tested for either condition). But as it happens all that who ha last week (and every other week) always seems to lead me into a zen like coma of virtue and strict self imposed restriction resulting in.......

89.4 kilos!!!! Shaggs has broken the 90kg mental and physical block and is now in the 80's. Which also means - to the metrically challenged - I am in Onederland! 197 pounds!! Yeehah! Thats over 30 pounds lost! Bring on the mania of the manic depression kind.

Now really, I'm coming to terms with many situations in my life (for now anyway all this could change next week and I know you wont hold it against me) and instead of fighting it and just doing whatever the hell I please instead of that which might actually help me - I have just thought more about the issues instead of the crappy ways I try to avoid them (eg: eating). Instead of just aimlessly munching my way around the house I have thought twice (and thrice and up to ten times) and asked myself will this really fix anything before I do it. I have kept the 80's goal in mind and worked solely towards it. Every time I said no to food I thought about how it was going to feel on Friday morning when I weighed in under 90kgs.

And now I really understand what the band is for. In my weight watchery days this was torture, hard and fast and very hard to resist the temptations. Now with my trusty band its only a little mental torture and not deep yearning physical torture. I dont physically need to eat so at least 90% of the problem is eliminated (i do feel sorry for the old me fighting the fight alone). I have noticed that my trigger times are just before dinner and late at night so if I can just get through those two times of the day I'm all good. If I lovingly prepare a meal for myself (as i do for everyone else in my life) I am good until the next meal (low and behold!) and I dont get stuck and puke on nibbled crap. And if I stay away from alcohol (not so easy ) my prohibitions stay firmly in place and I dont end up in an alcoholic food coma.

So through adversity we find strength, every cloud has a silver lining, the only way is up and I just pray that this mature and sensible and self loving Shaggs hangs around for a little longer.

P.S. I've made some really lovely friends.
P.S.S I'm back at work again and spiritually "on fire"! (surprise surprise!)

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Where to from here? What to do? HELP!

Well here we are again, starting to really feel intimidated with blogging. I feel like I rant about the same old things everyday but really, sometimes its just shit. I'm actually in a kinda nice place at the moment but I cant ignore the overwhelming feeling that I am the one in 1000 that the band does not help (maybe its more). My weight is up and down the same 2 kgs sure its not as bad as the first 2 months (when it really went up) but honestly - this is some slow moving fat. And it is all my fault I know that. I do EVERYTHING wrong. When I am conscious of what I'm doing yeah its not so bad but I still eat all day, eat all the wrong things, eat more than a bread and butter plate full I am CONSTANTLY around food and constantly nibbling.

So whats different today I hear you ask? I have to go to the doctor on Saturday and I have no idea what to say. Do you want a fill? I dont know. Are you happy with the band? I dont know. Are you possibly the most f%^&d up patient we've ever seen who is beyond help? Probably. I dont know if I am subconsciously sabotaging myself or if I'll just do whatever I can get away with. Really, is it too much to expect that my band will one day be the band it was post op? I have lost weight with the past few fills but is that just because it was too tight and I could barely eat anything and was constantly puking? Should I go back to that tight? That seems to be how others are doing it (and no i'm not including all those top chicks out there who are eating right and exercising). So much for losing 2 thirds of the weight in the first 6 months.

What am I going to do guys? I think my fill is OK at the moment cause I can eat normal foods without getting stuck BUT I can also eat a shitload too much and be hungry and looking for food after 2 hours. I dont know what to do and its shitting me. Or am I shitting me? As I said, I'm quite happy at the moment but this really needs to be sorted and first on the agenda is fill or no fill? You may say "Oh just go to the doctors and have a chat and see what he says" but the doctors here is an hour away and its a Saturday (precious family time) and smack bang in the middle of the day so its already inconvenient and if its for no good reason its even more shite.

So today I weighed in at 92 kg (after breakfast etc etc but really splitting hairs here) I have been going up and down 92kg since March. Five f$%^&*ing months! Thats shit. Whether its me or the band (and we all know its me) thats shit. Shit shit shit. So what now? Where to from here? What do I do guys? I'm just slobbing around the house, sick kids constantly (there hasnt been a week go by that someone isnt home sick since we got to Melbourne), lurking around the internet looking for something vaguely interesting to distract me from my crap, boring life, still got unpacking to do but in a stalemate cause I really dont want to be here so why keep unpacking? There's also the possibility that we may move again soon to our final destination and where we would really like to be which is Queensland. OK, honestly, I probably really dont want to be in my life at all Melbourne, Sydney or otherwise. (I honestly was feeling good before this).

Why is life so hard? Not only do you have to get through each day but you have to do it with a smile on your face and a spring in your step. You can't just glide by you have to work and work really hard. You have to be optimistic and cheery and keep on getting back up no matter how hard or how often you fall. You cant just be. You have to "be" times by ten, on steroids, hyper "be". Its shit. Oh, and I have no friends. Do I go and get a job and get busy and run 100 miles and hour from my life and never really having to face it? Will it be distracting enough or will it make things worse?

The past couple of years I have been working from home (a little isolating but very good with kids and home duties) and I could keep doing that but its going to require some work and optimism to get it up and running here and is that worth the work? Are we leaving here sometime soon? Or later? Can you believe I work as a medium and spiritual counsellor and healer requiring alot of meditation and zen like peace and calm? I'll bet none of you peeps will ever be a paying customer of this scattered freak! My clients (in Sydney) all loved our time together and came back for more and more and sent their friends (made moving even harder I left SO much behind) which just goes to prove a medium is just a channel for the other side and the information is completely seperate to the messed up human being it comes through. And yes I know I am going through a phase where I have to really sort myself out and after the storm will come the peace and through adversity blah blah blah. And why dont I heal myself? And why dont I ask "them" for the answers? Yeah, nice thought but hard to go to the "other side" in a healing meditation with three kids (including Damien) fighting like animals in the lounge room. All is good if I get my two days a week with no one around and I can keep on it but this chaos called Melbourne is really disrupting the "flow". I've thought about keeping seperate blogs for lap band, spiritual stuff and the misery of Melbourne just so I dont bore you all with stuff you'd probably rather not hear but anyway, thats me and its really hard to keep it all seperate. You dont really get the "full" picture.

(sigh).... what to do? I think it will be cleaning - seems to be the only thing that really needs doing and requires little thought. I think I need help.


Wednesday, August 26, 2009

My Spring Plan

Did you know that my husband has been referring to my blog to get a "real" assessment of what's going on in my brain??!?!?!?! To know what I'm really crackin it over and not just what I'm telling him? (eg: Actual Event: Meltdown over him not taking bins out. Blog translation: Got PMT, gained weight today and just want to eat a cherry ripe but they get stuck my whole life sucks and now my husband cant even take the bin out). So anything I say from here on can, and will, be used against me in any future bingles with my husband and with that said - "Get back to work you lazy slacker and google porn like all the other husbands!".

So, here's where I'm at and I think this is a cyclic situation as I'm pretty sure I've been here before but I cant torture myself and read back over my own rantings to establish a pattern. I have very little actual restriction and or satisfaction (as in hunger situation). I am still getting stuck but more randomly now and usually because of my own stupidity. My PB's are now turning into full blown vomits but then, I am able to shovel more food in so naturally there would be more coming out. Now, I fear that anymore restricition than this is actually too tight and may lead me back to living on dips and crackers and anything that will go down. That I am also at fault here and should be looking after my meals a little better (most stuck situations happen while eating out (FUN) and eating whatever is available with little regard as to what will go down). I kind of get full but it only last about 2 hours before I'm thinking of food again. But then, the only time this hasnt happened was for a month after the op. I will always refer to that as Utopia. I could not have cared less about food and was full after 3 bites, but is it that just the first month of any "plan" is like that for me? Weight watchers, Duromine, lite n easy and now the band? The first month you dump a whole lot of weight you're going great guns and then - nothing and its all over.

But honestly, I need to be pulled up here and I think a fill will do it. I am booked in for Saturday week, I have been transferred to the Melbourne office and they tried to book me in for the 22nd September. I nearly fainted! I'd be back to 100kg by then (no joking absolutely real situation very nearly happened the last time I went for a month between fills) I havent had a fill for 6 weeks now and I've lost a bit of weight in that time but really - this needs to step up a notch now. Will I ever experience Utopia again? Will I ever treat this situation as a "diet" as a serious attempt on my part to lose weight? In fact - is it quite nice that I have been eating pretty much whatever I want (apart from those things that get stuck and even then still a bit of that too) and totally not been torturing myself on a diet and still lost weight? What would actually happen if I gave this a serious attempt and watched what I ate and put myself on a "diet"? What would that be like? I have a friend who had the same amount to lose as me and we pretty much kept up the same pace until the 10kg mark. Granted she is 10 years younger and doesnt have kids and goes to the gym and personal trainer all the time but guess how much she has lost? (I'm f%^&d if my husband reads this) 25kg. Yep - 25kg. She looks normal to me now and would really only need to lose more if she wanted to be skinny (not my goal). Oh, and my nickname for her is "Cockroach" cause she vomits every two steps she takes. I think she spent about 3 months too tight also but really - thats a big gap between us now. This sounds nasty and bitter towards her but it is so not. I think she's brilliant and I love her to bits if anything I'm bitter towards myself.

So is it me? I think so. I think about all of the peripheral unnecessary eating I do just cause I can and its craziness. Its time to get real about all of this now. Its taken 6 months and I think its proved itself. Its not going to go away. Nothing is going to sabotage me. I can commit to this. It's safe. Very powerful word - it's safe. Safe. Safe. Safe. The food will always be there. Its not going anywhere. I will always be lighter than when I started (that is really all I ask) there is nothing to fear. It's safe.

So what does committing mean to me?
1. Thinking before it goes in my mouth. Just stop and think.
2. Planning. Being prepared with foods.
3. Not keeping shite in the house. No more shite.
4. Water water water water.
5. Exercise (did I mention I have been walking half hour - hour everyday? So good to move)
6. Eating for health, eating healthful foods.
7. Making every moment and every mouthful count
8. Creating and sticking to goals. Keeping my eye on the prize
9. Creating the prize
10. The first prize is SUMMER

As much as this repels me (I am so over the diet mentality and the goal creation etc etc) I really think this is a different set of "rules". I have gone all out and had fun and yeah, its fun but now I want my fun to be feeling free and cool and healthy this summer. Wearing the beautiful summer clothes I've always wanted to wear. Food just doesnt bring that kind of long lasting joy. Just tiny adrenaline food gasms. Moment by moment. I want the big picture - the lasting joy of wearing something beautiful. Feeling cool and healthy. Feeling comfortable, flexible, energetic and in some small way - how I feel on the inside. I dont feel as damaged as my body looks, my body needs to catch up with my mind and soul. I can hear you all laughing - I know you get to see the really messed up me but there is alot of sanity in here too.

I'm going to end with my favourite quote - nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. Love that one and love you all!

Friday, August 21, 2009

Penises and Ladies who Lunch - Pics Glorious Pics!

So we all love some pics and here's a few for your enjoyment lets start with the most important shall we!



Penises in Brighton - I am want to see the sexual innuendo in a loaf of bread but honestly - its a flacid penis - right?





Lunch in Prahan - I love this scarf even though it looks like a table cloth in the pic. It's cotton and cool and its mostly white (I NE
VER wear white) I'm trying!






Coffee in St Kilda. Is this a classic St Kilda "Secret Life of Us" shot or what? I have always liked the idea of Melbourne and this is one of the reasons why. Along this strip there is about 6 cake shops all in a row and I mean serious little fancy shmancy cakes. I tried one and didnt really like it. I think I like the look of cakes more than the taste - they're so pretty! I have no idea how such a small suburb supports so many fresh cake shops all with identical stock but anyhoo St Kilda is quaint but grubby and full of ferals ah lah Newtown in Sydney. I had to use the public toilet and I swear, its been really hard knowing where my shoes have been it was beyond toxic.

Brightonish Beach - Look at what these jeans do for my arse!!!! Bugger the cute dressing sheds. Just had to put that in sorry for the total self indulgence (like you're not all used to that anyway) but I cant really put pics of anyone else in but really - look at my ARSE! (while you're looking at my arse you're not seeing my fat gut and tits!)






Peter eating a lollipop - I dont care how unhealthy it is - how cute is that!







My new cardigan. Totally crap pic the colour is much nicer purple not as
dull as here. It does up under the boobs and cinches in at just the right spot and is just the right length and yep, I love it. Never really wear wool but kind of have to when its cold here. Wool always adds a good 5kg but I'm getting over that. My mother in law and sister in law taught me to not wear huge clothes cause they just make you look huger. I used to hate having figure hugging clothes on cause they just hug the rolls but really - I look ten times bigger in billowy clothes so fitted clothes it is!

Enough for now - I'm very concerned that I'm going to lose this post any minute now so I'm off and yes of course there will be more coming. Havent posted any farewell party pics yet! Oh and I must go and get ready - we've been invited out for dinner!!! Yay! Promise I wont drink and make a total fool of myself in front of new prospective friends.


Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Classic Avoidance Behaviour - PICS!!!

Oh boo frigedity hoo to me! This is Melbourne not Siberia and for a thousand other reasons - get over it! So lets bury our heads in the sand and move on to some light entertainment - PICS!!!

First
Shopping on Bridge Street Richmond - the only place in the world you'll find Sass and Bide right next door to some anonymous $5
clothes shop. Love it! I hope I never get used to seeing trams rattl
ing along down the road - so classically Melbourne. This is my new "hot pink almost red" short trench. Foul pic but never mind.




Pic number two - my new
jeans!!
Still size 18 but 18 from Jeans West! They're very thick, hard denim so they dont stretch and look like an empty lunch bag at the end of the day. Its also very difficult to eat in them but then - thats not a bad thing. Sorry for the stupid pic in the mirror thing but no one is around
and if I dont get this done now it will be never.







Pic number 3

My gorgeous huge (indoor - there is also an outdoor)
spa bath. This house was designed and built by two gay men with a taste for pool parties (can you tell?)






Pic number 4

Cute purple sketchers. Not the most delicate, feminine little shoe but certainly comfortable and wearable. And yes that is Peter also showing off his cute little shoes too! God forbid he should step more than 3cm away from me at any given time. A little tip about Sketchers - they stink! But, if you take out their inner soles and put new ones in they're just fine!

Going to stop here with the pics as strange things are happening when I download so before I lose everything - I'm going. More to come.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

The Call of the Wild

One of my favourite spring memories - I'm walking home from the train station the air is warm, I notice there's still sunlight when the week before it was dark - it's perfect dusk. There's a warm breeze heavy with the scent of Jasmine flowers that bring with it all the wonderful memories of summer - the beach, the fruit, the friends, the fun! As I walk along the street I live on I can hear a low rumbling beat in the distance, a deep bass vibration travelling down the street and getting ever louder and deeper. With each step the smell of Jasmine becomes stronger, the air warmer and closer on my skin the low rumble gets louder and louder until I reach our yard. It is the primal rumble of my father (an aboriginal elder of the D'harawal tribe) playing his didgeridoo that calls me home. And that is the beginning of summer for me. And that is home to me.

So now winter is coming to an end and its that time of year again. The days are longer, the air is warmer and filled with the
memories of summers
past. Barbeques, late night out door drinking, recovering in a crystal clear pool. Super blond hair and glowing brown
skin. The tingling sting of a slight sunburn from a day at the beach. Fizzy alcoholic drinks, homemade cocktails made from bits and pieces leftover from a big Saturday night. Ahhh summer! Made all the better by a long stream of family and friends coming and going, your place or theirs, it didnt matter. It was SUMMER!!! And this was my most favourite time of the year - the aniticipation of summer! Winter is nearly over, you're noticing the changes but you're not dealing with sweat, humidity, flies, sleeveless tops and sticky fake tan that smells like curry. You're just working with the good memories, the nostalgia. I just love this time of year.

So why do I feel so sick and desolate?

Oh, thats right - I have no family or friends.

And what is summer without them?


There is no chance if I spark up a barbeque (which we dont even have) and crack a fizzy that someone will just pop in and share in the food and drink and sweaty frivolity. Not even mum and dad will pop their heads in from next door. This is truly sad.

I kid you not, I went to Aldi for some familiarity and A. They sell alcohol! and B. Check out the name of their $3.99 special!!! I get the hint!

Please dont tell me to be patient and I'll make new friends. I want my old friends. And a month without friends to me is like a year without water. I look out to the beautiful blue sky and gorgeous almost summer sunset and I cry with total and utter despair. This is really painful stuff. I see people at the shops and I think "Oh there's so and so" and move in for a chat and then the stark realisation that this is just someone who looks like them and could not possibly be them and I could cry right there in the middle of woolworths (Safeway in Melbourne). To not see ANYONE you know for weeks at a time is really hideous. I talk to checkout people, receptionists - anyone at all and I am quietly and silently sizing them as suitable long term friend material. And if I find someone who I think would be great it practically breaks my heart that they dont invite us all over for a barbeque on the weekend. I see women stopped in the streets having a chat and I look in amazement and think - wow, they're friends?!!?? And honestly, as a sane onlooker - I feel really sorry for me. I feel like an alien on another planet. I want to scream from the rooftops - "I have friends!!! I really do!" I have been getting myself out there and going to places and "things" but I'm sure I'm scaring people off with the wretching stench of desperation. This is really so pathetic, ungrateful and really so much deeper than I expected. I knew this would be hard but this is sad on a micro level.

And lets remember why we're all here in the first place? The band. Yes the 6 month bandiversary came and went last week and let me beat you all to the rush to say - I would never have lost and kept off the 14 kilos I've lost without it but really (and my husband has started asking questions) should things have moved a little faster than this? Maybe not. I must remember the first two months without any kind of a decent fill were a complete write off (excuses excuses) and its only been the last 3 months I've felt vaguely on top of it all so really 14 kilos in four months is pretty much right on. So lets let that one go......

Although - that summer thing again - I would have thought I would be much more physically comfortable and less insulated this summer and wearing pretty cotton summer numbers this season but like those gorgeous winter boots - ta ta to that dream!

So the band is on again off again at the moment. I think its off to the doctors next week although I'm still getting stuck and puking every day. Who knows - I'm lost - no idea. I dont understand how I can be so tight I'm puking and yet still feel hungry and never full??? I think its my habits not the band. So do I need another fill? Wouldn't have a clue.

I swear to you, the pics are coming and I would have put them in this post but the pics are kinda funny and this is kinda not (sorry bout that).

So, people think that aboriginal people are nomadic and can live anywhere travelling where the wind and food takes them and so maybe its the whitey in me that is suffering so much from the move? But then, what people fail to recognise are the ties to land and tribe that aboriginal people feel - we may wander but always on the same land and with the same people.

And I don't have either.


Tuesday, July 28, 2009

The world's best kept secret!

Sorry no pics yet but I swear they are coming! I just LOVE my new clothes - I actually feel like I look in my new clothes. For so many years I have worn whatever would fit and in colours that are slimming (ie: black) but everything I bought on Sunday is pink and purple and I just love it all!!! Its horrible in life when your outside is not an expression of your inside and while I would still like some more options I'm pretty happy with what I got on Sunday.

I also love Melbourne. No I was not being sarcastic in my last post and I should have pointed this out before I had a whinge on Saturday night but I love Melbourne and where I'm at is not the problem its totally just the lack of friends and family - and I dont want new ones I just want the ones I had! Well, new friends are great dont get me wrong but I also want my old ones.

So the weather here at the moment is my favourite weather of all. It is cool, crisp and dry. Perfect weather for straightened hair (stays perfect all day), oily skin (stays clear and smooth), big asses (a good jacket hides all sins), higher kilojoule consumption (gotta keep warm somehow) people who wear black all the time (a scarf can be a colourful addition to any outfit without adding kilo's and rolls to your gut in fact, a scarf creates a slimming, vertical line and actually covers the gut rolls - everyone's a winner!). And Melbourne has some GREAT shopping!!! I dont know if it was because I lived in a shitty area in Sydney where all of the clothes were either trashed in the shop or there were no larger sizes left cause, lets remember there's like 10 fast food outlets around these shops and all of the larger sizes would go instantly!

So there are many reasons I love Melbourne, let me just finish by saying that this place is one of the worlds best kept secrets! It is the perfect blend of beach and city and family and funky life and I just love it! Its cheaper, easier, friendlier and far more lovely than Sydney in so many ways, if only everyone was here...

Oh and my band is as tight as so the weight is dropping off. Actually saw 90.8 yesterday! Couldn't eat meat and carbs together if I tried and I do at least one puke a day but I'm loving it and my husband is getting to know what its like to date a bulimic super model (I disappear at least 3 times every meal to make myself more comfortable!).

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Part II

So I went shopping.

Enough said.

Pics to come.

Love Melbourne.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

And just when you thought it was safe to blog....

Hands up who can tell that I'm a sad Mexican (Victoria is south of the border from Sydney) with no friends? Or who is not quite switched on enough to figure out that it is Saturday night here and I'm blogging? I'm thinking that if you've got friends you share your stories live and in full colour on a Saturday night and not type away frantically to "cyber" friends who aren't actually sharing in the story at this actual point in "real" time.

So we've been here for almost two weeks and I've kept myself kind of busy with various things. I have one friend here (I met her online during the banding process and I often wonder if things would have been different had she realised I would one day turn up in her "real" life - oops!) and aside from her - there is no one. Yep, no one. Party girl central has turned into lonely librarian of the year. I have called almost every Sydney person I can think of including my mother and no one is answering and those who do are busy being people with friends. I am being a typical friendless person and drinking on my own, crying for no reason and blogging. Fun.

I sit here and wonder how long will it be until I have friend. A "real" friend. You know one of those people you just cant wait to see and theres no awkward silences and you have everything in common and all the kids get along and they like to drink too? Will it ever happen? I dont think I had come to a point where you dont meet new people anymore cause I was still making really good friends right up until I left Sydney. I went out to a group meeting thing last night and it felt good having somewhere to go but still, my fortune for a "real" friend. The lonliness is palpable.

Add to all this the fact that as I suspected, we dont really fit in here. There are some very beautiful well put together people in these parts and I either need to go and do a full wardrobe overhaul or go back to south west Sydney where I belong. My husband has been putting the pressure on for me to get some new clothes shoes anything other than what I have and yes he has also mentioned that if I like something, then I shouldnt get it cause my taste is in my arse and I dont know good from bad which really just makes me want to stay home. If I take him with me as stylist then we have three whinging kids in tow and if I go on my own I'll make massive fashion faux pas. The only shoes I have smell so bad I cant take them off in a shop to buy new ones. All of my uniforms (ie: my black v neck three quarter sleeve tops) have holes in them from spending my entire sad life rubbing up against the kitchen bench. I havent been a shopper for so long I've forgotten how to do it. Material stuff just hasnt been my thing for such a long time and really, I'd rather not go there again but I also hate looking like a mumsy schmo ESPECIALLY when I weighed in at an all time low of 91.2kg this morning. Still dont think I can comfortably wear size 16 jeans so it doesnt mean alot when you're wearing the same fat clothes you've always worn but still, I thought today might be a good day but, alas, I have ended up in a funk you could smell from Fremantle.

"He" has suggested that tomorrow he looks after the kids (nice to have a baby sitter!) while I go shopping and what girl wouldnt be chaffing at the bit but dead set - I'm so not interested. Of course I would love lovely new clothes (most of mine are op shop top finds) but couldnt I just wake up and find them all hanging there in my wardrobe? Do I really have to traipse around hot sweaty shopping centres amongst beautiful people hauling my fat white arse with greasy ruddy blotchy cheeks in and out of badly lit fittng rooms buying clothes that, ultimately will be ill suited to me, my lifestyle (or lack there of) and end up wholey and stained and stretched beyond recognition. Where is the fun in that? Thats not fun. Fun is sleeping in, having a BBQ breakfast lounging about and going to a friends house and eating, drinking and laughing until the wee hours of the morning.

I really thought I had "worked through" the grief of all of this but I guess all it takes is one lonely Saturday night to highlight just how sad and lonely your "new" exciting life is (just for the record - I never thought this would be a new and exciting life). And, as per my usual response to adversity - I just want to curl up in a corner by myself (lucky for that!) and retract into a reclusive and often foetal state and hope it all goes away. There's no gung ho "everything will seem better in the morning" optimism hidden away in these bitter walls. No siree! I'm just happy that theres no one here in my "real" world to know just how fucked up this all is. Boo frigedity hoo!

I'm also pretty sure that blogging wasnt meant to bring down all the poor saps who signed up to follow this self indulgent trite crap..... sorry guys. If only there was blogger chat then this post may never have happened.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

When a Camel Toe is a Good Thing

I am wearing size 16 jeans.

They're tight but damn they're hot!

I have a camel toe/front wedgie/wendy in fact - the whole damn herd.

I love myself sick. I cant sit down, I cant eat (not a bad thing) and I 'm pretty sure I cant take a deep breath but good God, they're size 16!

I would have posted a picture but no one does it better than Wonder Woman.

And its a wonder I can breathe.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Hey Hey Its Saturday!

This morning I could just feel that things were different so I just had to step on the scales and I was 91.8kg. I cracked the 91 mark. Phew! I realise that this is not an official weigh in day but being Saturday morning and one of my lowest points is truly a miracle in my life. In my old life I would never have weighed myself after a Thursday because weekend celebration mode would have kicked in by then and I would have weighed massively more than I should have. I have also been known to inflict Nazi style diet activity upon myself where I would deliberately make weigh in day Monday or Saturday so I would even have to suffer during times when it would kind of be fair ease off a little (but I would have abused that leniency anyway). It is really nice to notice a change in my behaviour due solely to the band. The band does not know that it is Saturday or Sunday, the band can only do the same food activity no matter what day. I still have to work on eating real meals and not picking but it is getting harder under these moving circumstances. And I'm not deliberately bashing myself up and inflicting hideous diet regimes on myself and for that I am truly grateful. I have noticed that the restriction is lightning up and I'm starting to creep more food back in so I'm off to the doctor for my final Sydney visit on Tuesday and I'm going to get a little bit of fill also.

Yep, I'm digging this.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Noah's (F) Ark (ing Hell!)

OK so I'm loving my band at the moment. My really ultra tight fill has worn off to a very manageable normal kind of situation and has seen my weight drop to 92.6 and I am feeling much more in control and looking even better. I understand now how being too tight pushes you toward sloppy fatty foods to get satisfied and being filled in the right region encourages proper meals and satisfaction. However, I still seem to be size 17 although maybe I'll go and check out some smaller jeans as my usual 18's are literally falling off me and my builders crack is showing all over the shop. So, for the record, for this fickle moment in time I am officially loving my band and am seeing a bright future for me.

I am going to book in to see the doctor next week just to keep my fill options open cause I REALLY dont ever want to go back to one of those endless weight gaining bingeing periods - they are really horrible and completely unnecessary. Any of you out there who are being told to wait a whole month between fills - find another doctor (if its not working for you) cause that did my head in and now with fortnightly fills (or really whenever I want and a doctor who trusts that I am grown up enough to know what I need next) I am alive again!

I love Peter. Packing has slowed down. I'm starting to have anxiety/emotional issues over the packing and leaving situation, time is closing in on me - everyone is still being so nice to me I love everyone and dont want to leave. How the hell are we all going to get down to Melbourne? Its turing into freaking Noah's Ark - we are transporting three children, my nephew, my sister, 2 birds, eight gold fish, one axelotl, 27 baby sea snails and one puppy dog. Fracken hell! 700kms and 47 pitt stops.

See, now I'm starting to freak out gotta stop here. No amount of food is going to help this and I still have no viable alternative coping mechanisms. (except for blogging)

Monday, June 29, 2009

My "Other" Man


There's a new man in my life. I'm in love. And to all of those doggie lovers out there (you know who I'm farking talking about) I am a convert. I've always liked the idea of dogs but never wanted to deal with the poo and wee etc I dont mind other peoples dogs, I freak out and run and scream if theres a dog on the loose out on the street (no matter what the size or disposition) and now I know its all worth it. He's just so cute and lovely and such a sweet good little doggie I just cant help myself. He soothes my soul. He keeps me so busy wiping up poo and pee that I dont have time to eat (The Pet Lovers Guide to Weightloss). He has added some issues to my life but he takes alot of them away also and I am really quite used to him now (two days later). It is only early days but I just feel we were meant to be.
You see, we've been thinking about getting a dog for quite some time now and thought it might be a good settling technique for the kids when we move to Melbourne and it would have been a smart idea to wait until that time however..... we were in a shopping centre on Saturday and we always like to look in the pet shops and of course I knew that the first puppies we saw we were going to get and thats just what happened. We've been looking at toy poodles - they dont drop hair, they're small, easy to handle, they're smart, they need lots of smothering love (bring it on kids), the do small poos and wees and they're just so cute even when full grown. So when we saw this little guy it was love at first sight. He was also born on the 11th and I've been having a weird freaky relationship with 11's lately and he's all black with one white paw so of course he looks like Michael Jackson and he died just 2 days before so of course it was all too serendipitous and I just couldnt resist.

Now before you all freak and think we rushed into - yes you're probably right but to counter act that we're very responsible pet owners and we will evolve to make it work should it all turn pear shaped (We have kept Damien, afterall). We had intended to go to some sort of shelter to "rescue" a lil sad doggie but it just didnt spin that way and now we have this little ball of fluff. And no he doesnt have some frou frou name like Fluffy or Widget or Muffy his name is Peter. Yes, Peter. Not MJ (Michael Jackson was his name in the shop) Brett, Shane, Warren, Craig or any other plain as an arrowroot biscuit anglo name but Peter. Named by the girls and it's stuck. He his slightly homosexual in his prancing show doggie ways but man I just cannot express how terribly cute he is and what a smart lovely good little guy he is. We have established a bed time routine and he sleeps in the laundry with the love song request radio station on. He whinges for a little bit and then we dont hear a peep from him all night. Didnt expect that! On the first night I woke up in a cold sweat at 4.30am with the full knowledge that he was dead because he hadnt whinged all night like everyone said he would. (Oh God I'm turing into one of those people who talk about their dogs. But I swear this is different. He's just so cute and lovely.) He wasnt dead just very very good but I still think he's going to die and I therefore only let him out of my sight to sleep (My love has limits).
I guess I just need to get this off my chest you see, we've had a sensational little pet like Peter before and I recognise the same soulful loveliness in Peter that I saw in the last pet and the last pet didnt last. It was a sweet little baby budgie called Chippie and lets just say for now that 3 year olds can love baby budgies a little too much. I nursed the tiny injured baby budgie for 3 days before he was sadly found dead. And I obviously havent recovered. If I even hear a sound in the same pitch as that of a desperate baby budgies screech for help I lose bowel control. Every whimper Peter lets out leaves me convinced he has met his end in some horrendous rabbit trap and my husband isnt here so I'll have to deal with it all alone. I am starting to calm down and realise that he has the innate animal instinct to survive and that combined with my overbearing need to protect him has seen him through his first 2 days here in the pet house from hell (Damien is now almost 5 so things look a little brighter for Peter) but I swear I still think he's going to die. He has the essence of a life that is only going to be short. Please everyone tell me I'm wrong and mental. I need some sleep. But then again, I think I have lost weight.....

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Living your own Eulogy

I'm back and I've missed you all like crazy and thank god it doesnt matter where I live, blogger friends are always there in this crazy e global situation. You see, an issue which transcends weight, lap bands, food and being size 17 is turning my "real" world upside down and has left me completely unable to find words adequate enough to truly express.

This is probably a big ol nothing to those of you who globe trot the planet all over the shop but for little ol me, I have lived, quite literally, in the same place all my life (aside from maybe six months) and here we are all up and leaving and moving almost 800kms away to Melbourne. I attribute my major upset to many different issues my main issue is leaving my friends and family and going to a place where I know one person (barely, online friend) I live in an area here where there is always someone to have a coffee with, drop in on or be dropped in on. I (happily and voluntarily) live next door to my parents for God's sake just to give you some idea of the magnitude of this. I have baby sitting on tap via many different sources for all hours of the day and night. I have just started my own business and was building up a nice little client base. And lets not even mention the spiritual importance of land and tribe to an indigenous person. I am feeling every root of my existence tearing and shredding painfully away from its base.

So why do it I hear you ask? Or are the reasons not to do it actually the reasons I should be doing it? I am a big sook lets face it. I get homesick driving out the driveway. I depend on people and I depend on people depending on me. I also have an adventurous independent streak that dies a little death every day here in suburbia. My husband also has a very lovely job in Melbourne that gives us the opportunity to live near the beach in a very nice suburb and experience a completely different life to that which we live here. Will we fit into that life? Well that remains to be seen but I also have this very conflicting and very nice and right feeling about all of this. Its like the universe has pulled out all the stops and is just placing it in our laps and I cannot ignore the feeling that something big and great is going to come of all of this cause otherwise, lets face it, there is too much at stake but these feelings and this rightness just cannot be ignored. So off we are going. And in a very short space of time too. I have tried to dig my heels in, I have tried to hate Melbourne, the house we are going to, the suburb, I have stalled, I have passively aggressively chucked a little silent tantrum and yet still, the path just gets smoother. I'm on a current and I dont have to pull not even one little stroke to get me there. Unless you count leaving my life blood (the people around me). I guess "they" are making up for the emotional pain by making the physical situation a little easier to deal with.

And now to make matters worse I feel like I'm at my own funeral. EVERYONE is being so incredibly nice and lovely and accomodating. It doesnt matter what I ask everyone jumps to it cause I'll be gone in 3 weeks so this is one of the "last times" so no matter how inconvenient something is, it happens no questions asked, before the sentence is even out of my mouth. I've committed suicide and I'm getting to listen to my own eulogies. Its really very lovely.

And lets remember I'm an hour and $70 on a plane away. I'm not in deepest darkest Africa but sometimes it feels like it.

And as for the band. Well f^&*) me if I'm not the biggest self sabotager on the planet. Part of it is the need to eat whatever I can without it getting stuck so I go for sloppy fatty foods. Everything else (other than a proper meal eaten slowly and carefully) gets horribly stuck so all this packing means I go for the quickest easiest options = pies, a constant supply of potato chips, chocolate, anything lubed up with cream or mayo. So I am just as fat as ever. Havent lost a gram. Should be going for another fill but really cant face throwing up constantly while packing and being picky about what I eat. I know I should stick to opti or something but really, I need some comfort. I know wrong wrong wrong. I'm looking forward to getting to the other end and getting in control again and getting back to morning walks (along a beach, be still my beating heart!). But until then I'm taking each day as it comes. How did I know that even at maximum effectiveness, this band was not going to change me? I know it will make the diet road easier but I really would have liked it to make more of difference than this. I am just holding on to the 10kgs I've lost that I wouldnt have lost without it. Even that's better than nothing.

Well I'm glad you're all there. That no matter where I am, blog land is still where its always been. I really love you all for that. I need that consistency, its really very comforting. Thank you.

Monday, June 1, 2009

To band or not to band?

So, Damien has finally worked through his wobbly but I'm still trying to work out this restriction thing. It hurts like hell when food gets stuck BUT I still want to eat, I can eat quite a bit providing I am careful and the food is "just right" in its consistency. I rarely feel full in the stomach and quite often feel full in the lower guts area which pulls on the port and the scars and is very uncomfortable for quite some time and yet the band never told me to stop I just stopped because the food ran out. Everyone is saying I've lost weight but the scales are just the same, its all just too confusing. I am booked in for another fill tomorrow and I dont know whether to get a whole or a half or not at all. The stuck thing is rubbish but of course only happens when I eat the wrong things (like chips) or the food isnt greased up enough. I'm not snacking as much but I do really want to eat. I'm not following ALL of the rules and now I'm just thinking that this band, working or not, will never help me - I am beyond the law. I know if I cared enough to prepare foods and proper meals for myself, to eat protein, stay away from the carbs and sit down and eat "mindfully" (still havent gotten over the psychologist at the meeting) then its all good but I'm sorry, thats just too many rules and too far beyond my comprehension level.

I feel like Homer Simpson in that episode where Bart makes an electro shock cookie deterrent. Homer keeps going for the cookies, he gets shocked, he squeals, he stops, he goes for another cookie, he gets shocked, he squeals, he stops, he goes for another cookie etc etc and he never learns. He's dumber than a hampster and so am I. I eat, I get stuck, I squeal, I unstick, I stop eating, I eat again, I get stuck, I squeal, I unstick, I stop eating, I eat again blah blah blah. I'm pretty sure a gold fish learns and retains information better than that.

So, I've never been here before - where the band is kind of working but I'm not. I sometimes think if I got more fill I'd be on liquids, that there isnt much more this band can do or maybe I'm wrong. I have heard successful banders say that they can only eat very little and very carefully and I dont think I'm quite there yet - almost, but not quite - there is still a little too much random scoffing going on to be a "successful" bander yet. I would like to feel full again. I've only had that once in the past fortnight. I cannot drink while eating any more so thats great, didnt really have to practice that one, the ability to drink is kind of taken away altogether with the right fill so its all good there, no more will power necessary just the threat of atrocious pain and strange automatic purging.

And strangely enough, I'm not really missing stuffing my face. I think I'll have that fill tomorrow just to see what its like to be over filled. I've always enjoyed new experiences (good or bad). And you never know, it just might do the trick! I thought, back in February when I got this done, I'd be wearing my fabulous winter boots (must post a pic) by June but its not so. I guess I am primarily to blame. I am so not on a diet with assistance from a band. I am trying to live a normal life without being interrupted by a band. Perhaps now its time to see what its like to be dominated by a band - I wonder who'll win? Will I lose weight or end up in hospital?

I actually am starting to think (God knows I shouldnt do that) that if it all went haywire tomorrow I think I'd ask for it to come out and not put another in. I really think I am above and beyond this kind of help. And I'm not saying this in a boo frigetty hoo kinda way. Its not poor me I am totally not sad or depressed about it, it just is what it is and I really dont think I want it hanging around in there any longer like a ticking time bomb just waiting for me to really eff it up. I really dont think it can stop me, I will always eat chocolate or sloppy greasy foods in order to fill up, while there is a way around, I will take it. I dont ever think about the money involved or the pain - I think more about the threat of future monies and pain. The money is already gone but the continued expense bothers me. Our private health insurance has always been paid by my husbands work and now he has left that job we must pay it and only because of the band. If it wasnt for the band we wouldnt need the insurance. We are all healthy and blessed with good sight, teeth etc etc and feel pretty comfortable with Medicare but the band requires insurance. Bummer. This is actually starting to sound like a good idea. I've never really felt comfortable with something in me stopping me from being a super consumer in the face of the global food crisis and famine, poverty etc etc. Here I am a big fat white westerner consuming til it hurts and causes me massive health problems. It seems as pointless as if I had liposuction. What a universal farce. Constricting your stomach cause you cant stop yourself from eating and then STILL eating. I'm turning into someone I'd hate on A Current Affair. And hating myself makes it even worse. Oh god I'm starting to disappear up my own arse....

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Drum roll please.........

And its official - I have restriction!!! I can hear the angels singing, symphonies bashing out an earth shattering chorus, tsunamis in Japan, earthquakes in Nigeria, butterflies rooting in Hawaii!!!

I could tell something was different from the moment I walked out of the doctors office (and not just because I had the average looking middle aged doctor). Things felt a little tight in the chest area and I even felt a little nauseous so of course I had to "try it out" when I got home. I had a little bit of vegie patty (mashed vegies and not much else) and woohoo - I felt that awesome dull, full tightness, not pain or lumpies or stuckness just pleasantly full and satisified after one bite. It was then that the heavens opened up, the angels began to sing, I was moved to tears when I realised this was the feeling I had after the operation and it was back again minus the pain and awfulness of being hacked open. Dinner was the same just a little plate like the early days and then full and satisified.  Damiens chucking a wobbly be back later
 

Praying for a Cockroach

Third fill today and my God, if I'm not doing a cockroach (ie: puking every two steps) I am going to have a royal case of the shites. Have to admit this fill has been slightly better than the last but I'm still going bezerk, and really its 8.28am here and I really have to pretend like I'm a half decent mother and get the kids off to school - hopefully with their hair brushed and a lunch bag in tow. So this whole civilised "cappuccino and catching up with the peeps" thing really has to end here. Will be back this arvo with a fill update.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

I have lost the will to live

I have just written a post about my grand mother who died 4 years ago today and the post was wiped while I was trying to post it. I will take this as a sign that I shoudnt dwell on her death but it has broken my heart and I have lost the will to live for at least the next few hours and 8 glasses of wine

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Mother on the first date

Happy Mothers Day to everyone out there in blogland. Dont feel sad for me cause here I am blogging on Mothers Day morning. We've been up since sparrow's fart and I've had a lovely breakfast with my mum who lives and next door. The kids made us croissants and coffee and now everyone is either out or watching Beverly Hills Chiuaha (sic) and I have some lovely moments to myself to ponder how this whole mother hood thing started.

In order to tell the story in all its glory I have to start with how my husband and I met. I was 25 and getting really sick of the young single party girl thing (sick or what?). I remember one day working out the numbers and realising that if I met someone that day, went out for 2 years, got engaged for 1 year, got married and lived as a couple for say 2 years, tried to get pregnant for 1 year, was pregnant for 1 year I would be almost 40 by the time I heard the pitter patter of little feet. Hell man, I was clucky and that was a seriously disappointing amount of time for a really impatient girl of 25. I had just broken up with a seriously crap boyfriend, was toying around with a toy boy, just flicked the crap job, landed the job from heaven and who should be sitting next to me but this suave, sophisticated, cultured, clean, professional and far too nice for me, Latino boy. There were a few young ones in our office and we all hung out together. Latino Boy was off limits - he'd had a girl friend for 7 years, they lived on Castlreagh Street (smack bang in the middle of the city) and he was just too well paid and too mature and too unlike all of the other losers I went out with so I kept my distance. But we all had fun together. Latino Boy didnt smoke or drink so we only hung out at lunch time but we all got along well. I had never even considered he would be interested in me so he got the full version of Shaggs on Steroids - the smoking, the drinking in the office (Friday Beer O Clock etc), the filthy stories from the weekend, the swearing and blah blah blah. I really didnt think I'd be able to pick up a bikie.

So it came to be that one week all of the young ones except me and Latino Boy were in Melbourne working so it was just us for lunch that day. I dragged Latino Boy around the shops to buy cheap jeans and he had to carry my bags and he even carried them to the train station for me and not once did my alarm bells ring.

That was Friday and on Monday it was just us again and we were off to get a coffee for morning tea and Latino Boy seemed a little troubled. He had slept badly on the weekend he said and I was all very sympathetic asking why and was everything OK (couldnt believe I was seeing another side to Latino Boy) he continued his story saying he couldnt sleep because he was thinking about me......

Yes I nearly fell over! What!???? Now as an Aussie Sheila I find it very hard to cope with overt displays of such emotion but I have to say I think I did ok. We wondered around the city for a long time that day trying to work up the courage (without the use of alcohol) to discuss what was going to happen with this revelation. Latino Boy decides he should break up with old girlfriend and I agreed we could give it a go but I wasnt going to promise anything and if it didnt work then Que Sera.

So Latino Boy broke up with old girlfriend that night and the next morning there was a bunch of red roses on my desk bigger than my parents dining room table (unextended). The next day there was a bottle of my favourite expensive perfume in my desk drawer (and yes it was in a limited edition bottle and it was Eau de expensive Parfum and beautifully wrapped from David Jones), the next day was November Lillies and it just went on from there. We sent filthy messages to each other all week via NetSend messaging (very early MSN via a linked network - he was a network engineer) and finally Friday night came and we went out for dinner to a Spanish restaurant. He ordered in beautiful, fluent orgasmic Spanish (second only to beautiful, fluent network engineer lingo) and I drank copious amounts of Sangria (of course, finally alcohol to help me deal with this crazy scenario) and before I knew I was waking up in a thick bath robe eating chocolate croissants and fresh orange juice overlooking the QVB and Darling Harbour - exuisite!!! It was like Pretty Woman without the exchange of cash (just dinner and the apartment was like a hotel oh and breakfast - lucky little westie that I am!)

So what has all of this first date stuff got to do with Mothers Day??? Well, everything. You see it was that night, after a week of truly filthy messaging, flowers, parfums, Spanish, food, his beautiful apartment on Castlereagh Street etc etc we both caved in and went ahead without adequate (or any) protection. I knew my cycle and believed it was a calculated risk but what I didnt calculate was the effect of all this wooing on my hormones making me ovulate early and wham bam thank you mam two weeks later I realise I am "late" and yep, I got pregnant on the first date! We know it was the first date because after that night we were vigilant about contraception and that was the only time the troops went in without a helmet.

So we had been together for two weeks and I was four weeks pregnant (pregnancy is counted from the start of your last period). Let me say it didnt go down well amongst his family who all believed we must have had something going while he was still with the last girlfriend ( who was still a friend to the family and the poor woman scorned) He also comes from a long line of women scorned and left by men. I urged him to leave me before anyone found out. We had a good few months before I would start to show and by then the baby could technically be anyones and he didnt have to look like the deserting baby daddy. But he was keen to stay (I really think now he wishes he had of run) and I looked like the seducer who trapped the poor Latino Boy.

So we got married when I was 11 weeks pregnant ( I just couldnt handle having a baby with a different name from mine and we'd already toyed with the idea of getting married before the baby thing was discovered). I just wanted to have a registry wedding and go to Doyles for seafood lunch but my mother thought it was rude to ask people to go to Doyles so she made us have a "reception" (and I use the word loosely) in her backyard. We had a pig on a spit and some coleslaw and potato salad out of huge plastic boxes, I had a fight with my sister, my brother had a fight with my father, I went with my new husband to pick up his old grandma and by the time we got back there was my mothers western suburbs back yard with South Americans on one side and Aussies on the other and no one knew who the f%^& anyone was and if they were even in the right place. I then (bitterly) watched everyone but me get pissed and then I went with my husband to take his old grandma home and by the time I got back it was over and everyone had gone home and we didnt cut the cake (a running tradition in my life). We should have just left it at Doyles. Did I mention I wore a maternity dress? I had gained about 15kg in the first 3 months of pregnancy.

So, by the time I had known my husband for a year (and I mean to the day) my daughter was born. Just the sweetest, blue eyed, blond haired gorgeous little cherub. We were total lunatic first time parents and did everything wrong but she's turned out surprisingly well balanced under the circumstances. And yes, no one believed my husband was the father because she is so very fair and even less so when baby number two turned out darker than her father even. People still ask if they're both mine and I always answer yes and that they both have the same father just so no one gets uncomfortable (or rude) and has to ask. Funny thing is, number one looks like his family but has my colouring and number two looks like my family but has his colouring and number three is the Devil's Spawn so we're still not sure who he looks like.

So that was all nearly eleven years ago and we're still here to tell the story. I'm not the size 10 beauty queen anymore (I gained 40kgs in that first year and I'm still trying to get rid of it) and he's not the sweet Latino Boy who showers me with affection and gifts anymore but then, thats life. I dragged him out to the burbs to live near my family just while the baby was little and of course we're still here. He can sometimes be seen in unironed Target clothes and even has a pair of jeans from Big W that I never got around to taking up so are frayed on the bottom. I know a little part of him has died in order to accomodate me and father hood but then, I think we're better now than we were then. And Devils Spawn and all - I wouldnt change thing.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

The (Un) Support Group

So, the support group meeting is primarily a farce. The staff try to "make a difference" and it just turns out a bit tedious and boring. However, the people and the "free time" we get to have to chat to each other is brilliant! I have met some truly hilarious, lovely, generous and mental people and it is not uncommon to still be standing chatting in the car park until 10pm (we are kicked out of the meeting room at 8pm). We talk all about the ridiculous mental things we do and how messed up we still are despite taking steps to unmess ourselves. The ridiculously skinny phsychologist who runs the group appears to be more messed up than us and had us doing the "mindful raisin" task which quite frankly was an insult and I told her so. When she asked us to express how we felt (in her best Neil from the Young Ones voice) I let loose told her I think it is criminal to give one raisin to overweight people at dinner time and then be lectured by an extremely thin woman about savouring that raisin and being "very mindful" of it - of course I also had to add in that it is obscene to be preached about how to eat by a girl who hasnt seen a steak since last century. She appreciated my honesty (I think the psychologists oath dictates that she must accept any expression of her patients feelings no matter how confronting or personally offensive). Everyone went very quiet after this and it seemed the meeting came to an abrupt and premature end but that worked out well for everyone because we were granted the freedom of "free speech" and we could all chat about how Cherry Ripes hurt on the way down and if get someone to pat you on the back you can get unstuck and continue eating a Big Mac.

Its all very sad really isnt it? We pick on the skinny girl (whats the difference between picking on the skinny girl or the fat girl?), we (I mean I) get the shits because I cant eat whatever I want (I want my cake and eat it too and the chiko roll and whatever else is going), we (I mean I) are given really good advice and we (I mean I) rubbish it even though I know its what is lacking and what I need to get ahead and we all revel in how bad we can possibly be and how we can abuse ourselves and our bands. Nice.

So my band seems to have been working a little more these days or I'm just not deliberately ignoring it. I still eat when I'm not hungry in order to avoid getting hungry at inappropriate times eg: while out or when there is no food or bad food around. I got stuck again last night on those hideous chips that got me stuck last time (will I EVER learn!) this time it didnt last as long but man it hurt!

So the scales have been a little kinder this week and I really am going to get a casual pass to the gym and there is a personal trainer session on Thursday mornings I can take Damian to and work out with some other mothers so I'm getting back on the horse so to speak (not the trainer and yes I attract hot trainers like a I attract the medical professionals also "I'm sorry hot trainer but I cant do a sit up because my gut rolls are in the way").

So off for another week - I really am going to try and reign in the nasty sting of bitterness and quell the stinking swap of resentment that has permeated my experience with this band for the last few weeks and try and make the most of it. Only a week to go to the magic 3rd fill.

Weight Loss From 27th January 2009