Times like these

It's times like these when I wonder what my life will be like post surgery. 

I had a long weekend - stayed up too late - probably drank too much - and ate horribly.  And because of that I didn't go to the gym yesterday and I probably won't go today.  I couldn't focus on work and instead I obsessed over the surgery how to eat what to eat calling my doctors offices about my records fantasizing about being a size 12 someday and I didn't get any work done.  Every time I party all weekend I have a bit of a depression afterwards which effects work, health, etc.

So...since I won't be able to do that post surgery...what would my weekend would have looked like? Would I be pissed off that I couldn't hang out with my husband and veg out and drink? Would I be sad because when we went to the mexican restaurant I couldn't of had a tasty margarhita with my chimichanga? Or would I have spent more time on my new found hobbies? Spent some time at the beach, took the dogs for a walk, planned a healthy meal plan for the upcoming week? Would I be more refreshed at work?

Probably.  So now I'm in a different kind of mood.  Worried that something will go wrong and this thing that I'm pinning all my hopes on won't happen.  I'm doing everything I can to make sure it happens.  Calling my insurance company, gathering my medical records, making a list of all the diets I've been on, compiling supporting records of said diets, researching the surgery, drinking water as if I already had it done.  And I haven't even met with the doctor yet.  That's tomorrow. The free seminar then the scheduling of appointments then submittal to the insurance company...then hopefully a date.  I've read people were approved instantly, or six months.  I can't stop playing the what if game.  It's hard to do that without thinking negatively.   But then I don't want to be so optomistic that I get let down.

Another weird thing is that I'm not thinking about my weight right now.  I feel really, really, heavy though.  Heaviest I've ever been.  And I just noticed a few new stretchmarks on my stomach.  Lovely.  Even my "fat jeans" don't fit like they used to.  And then I tell myself - it's okay - you'll get the surgery and it'll all work out.

But what if it doesn't?  I spent a good portion of yesterday reading and watching testimonials of people who had had some form of surgery done and learning how happy they are; how hard it was/is; what they miss; what they're filling their time with now instead of food; the panic stricken posts or videos when they haven't lost any weight; and the side effects.  Hair loss is probably my biggest fear - only because that's the one thing that I've always loved about me.  Vain as it sounds - I love my hair.  I don't love these new stretch marks though.  I don't love how sitting here typing this my jeans are digging into my stomach and this hoodie that was once oversized is now a tad small.  I don't love that it's getting harder for me to do things. Even personal things.  That's embarrassing. 

I remember growing up and my stepdad was always over weight.  When he died, of a rare flesh eating disease, he was probably 550 at 6'1.  And that's where I learned my eating habits.  I was on the atkins diet when I was 11 or 12.  I was on the starvation diet from 16 to 17.  And then he died when I was 18 and every year after that I put on at least 10lbs.  Long story short - he was a horrible man and it was a relief to see him go. Sounds horrible - but trust me I'm not going to hell for saying that.

Anyways - so I don't know where I was going with that.  I guess I'm scared that if this doesn't work, and I do get pregnant (not likely since I have PCOS and I don't ovulate every month), that I'll sky rocket over 300lbs and become him.  Angry, depressed, lazy, mean, unhealthy, a bad role model and die at 52.

So I'm in a weird space right now. Not sure how to snap out of it - but it'll pass, it always does.

Anyway...have a good day everyone.