It's not what you are eating, it's what's eating you…

More than this………


“I could feel at the time/there was no way of knowing….” /Roxy Music/Bryan Ferry “More Than This” /No copyright infringement intended..

I’m apparently starting 2015, a lot like I did with 2014. Caught between where I was 5 years ago and where I was 10 years ago.

Especially in the case of this particular weekend, where I’ve a pretty good memory (which is nothing less than shocking, to me, and those who know me well) where I was both exactly 5 years ago and 10 years ago.

Martin Luther King weekend of 2005, I was with my children, who were 12 1/2 (Zach) and 22 1/2 months old (Zoe Arielle) respectively, on vacation in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. While I was no longer working, I was in school to be a Certified Personal Trainer and in the process of launching a small business.

I remember that trip, quite well. It was Zoe’s first (and only) time on a plane. We had unfortunately booked our trip through a company that rhymes with “hot liar”, and while we got to Minneapolis/St Paul airport at 6:30am (took a cab from our apartment in Plymouth to the airport). Didn’t get to Fort Lauderdale until 12:30 am, the following day, as we had a layover in Philadelphia. It was quite frigid in both Minneapolis and Philadelphia and while it was warmer in Fort Lauderdale, it was unseasonably cool, even there, (late 40 degree temps at night, mid 60’s most of the trip, except the last 2 days where it got above 75).

While my parents lived close by to me (actually, everyone in my immediate family lives somewhat close by, save my oldest nephew who’s now in college) they had a second home for quite a while in the Fort Lauderdale suburbs. So while Zach and I had been to Florida quite a few times to visit them when they “wintered” there, between my pregnancy and maternity leave while I still worked until 2004, couldn’t afford to go to Florida. And after our  January 2005 trip, I was too sick to be able to travel, so it ended also being the last time, my children and I would be on a plane or out of the state of Minnesota.

My son ended up staying with my parents during that trip except the last night, I had already reserved a Marriott Town Suite in Fort Lauderdale, where Zoe and I stayed. I had many fond memories of that trip, whether it was being amused of how much crap that one needs to take on a plane for a toddler, to how much space my little 22 1/2 month old would take up in a king size bed. I had rented a car, too, so that we could go on adventures together, all 3 of us, in addition to spending time and going out with my parents. We drove to Las Olas Boulevard and the shops and restaurants all over, we also drove down to South Beach and saw the hotels and the cruise ships, it was a lot of fun, though.

Never Ever, to think,  at the time, that 3 1/2 years later, I’d be on a psych ward for 35 1/2 days, after years of being sick and getting sicker physically and mentally to disintegrate, after one serious suicide attempt and giving up custody before that, knowing that I was acutely suicidal and too medically and mentally fragile to best raise my kids, any longer.

Martin Luther King weekend of 2010, was spent inpatient at Fairview University Medical Center, one of many inpatient medical admissions I had from 2006 to 2010. What was different about this particular inpatient admission, is that I was begging my surgeon after almost gaining all my weight back, due to the meds I had been put on from nervous breakdown in 2007, increased and added post suicide attempt in 2008, that caused me to be the same size (a 24) that I was at my biggest before my gastric bypass.

What was memorable about that admission was that I didn’t beg my surgeon to reverse my gastric bypass, as I had NO idea that gastric bypasses were EVEN “reversible”, I begged him to REVISE me. Because if I had to be that sick, I didn’t want to be that fat again, if I am to be truthful.

Never Ever, to think,  that 6 months later, my surgeon told me I needed a reversal, if I wanted to live and have any shot of anything resembling a normal life. By then my definition of normal had been so reduced, beyond the scope of anything I could have comprehended, ten years, before.

I’m not trying to trigger my size acceptance and fat acceptance peers when I say that I had asked for revision in January of 2010. And I have more blogs in me of why I do the activism that I do, when it comes to both weight loss surgery and/or SA/FA. And why I’m supportive of BOTH. But this isn’t the blog to discuss that.

This is the blog that explains my constant sense of remorse, that I have a life, that while I know just how lucky that I am be alive, is so far away from the life I dreamed of, ten years ago. It’s why even though 5 years ago that I had just gotten out of the mental health system, after a an almost 17 month stint, that as much as I complain, I don’t take things for granted.

But as I’ve said before, I never took things or people for granted. My freedom, perhaps, but really NOTHING else. There’s really NO learning lesson when in my life, my complex medical, cognitive and mental health issues, robbed me of abilities, that are just not conceivable to most people.

But again, I understand how lucky I am to have kids. I am lucky to have those I love the most, still alive.

Still, I’m always going to struggle with this….

“There was no way of knowing/like a dream in the night/of which way we were going” – Roxy Music/Bryan Ferry “More Than This”……

(Note: Above pic of my kids and I, taken 2005)


Comments on: "More than this………" (5)

  1. We are allowed to grieve. It doesn’t, in any way, lessen our commitment to a belief that humans are more than their size and should and demand to be respected. There is more involved than weight and wls in your story. You are grieving the loss of certain hopes and plans you had and I get that … I’m with you in so many ways (no web site pun intended)

    As we have what, we don’t even realize, we value highest in ourselves removed from us we are forced to find new things about ourselves to take pride in and it’s so hard. I always felt so proud that I had gone from being a single mother on assistance to being a single mother with a good career, who kicked butt, who was super organized, ran a back office, kept a doctor in check … even though there wasn;t much money, I found a way, I was super mom… then that wasn’t there for my identity any more ..

    I was disabled by my disorder … then my physical health went too … then to make matters worse … I couldn’t lose the weight my body had packed on and the world was a mean place and then … a crapband didn’t work (like 40% of them have issues of some kind) so I had surgeons and fitness coaches and “support networks” and endocrinologist and blah blah blah self righteously beating me up … and the medication treadmill and what it’s done to my body over the many years and hearing “It’s up to you to not eat, it only increases appetite” (though now they are admitting it does more, it screws your metabolism, some even can cause diabetes) and how my unique body processes it … there is a lot of grief, Lisa.

    So, I don’t think it’s about fat. I’m hearing “the weight is a symbol, it happened along the way and a big part of the story and you are acknowledging it”, I get what you’re saying.

  2. I ❤ you, Chrissy….. Thank you…..
    p.s. If I knew how to link blogs, I would link both of your blogs…

  3. Just as a clarification, not mourning weight, with this. I am mourning the abilities I lost such as driving a car and being the best person to raise my children.

  4. Yes, the weight was just symbolic, just one more thing that we were told made us less than and we struggled to tell the rest of the world (and myself) who I was. I’m not my cars, my career, my endo’s opinion of me, etc but I grieve all those things and all my plans.

  5. I just wanted to add, as I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you Chrissy, that I knew what you meant. I have social media peers though, who can’t for the life and I get it somewhat, understand how I still defend bariatric surgery at all, given everything I’ve been through. I’ve had people who’s take away from my blogs is that I’m just soley in mourning for the thin Lisa I used to be.

    We obviously have little choice in what medical issues are thrown our way. If I could go back to being what size I was before my gastric bypass if that included all the abilities, I had before it, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You may get that about me. I have wls peeps though that are so fat phobic post wls, that anything I say, they interpret as my being mourning for gastric bypass being a failure. Not the failure I ended up being so unintentionally as a mother.

    That and a million other reasons why is why I tried to make it clear, that my weight doesn’t mean shit, given the fact that I’m still post reversal not only able to still not be the best one to raise my daughter, who has NO known memory of me being anything other than a “sick mommy” even though she knows I love her, but my son having to see me get so sick medically and then mentally decompose, as he was in his early teens when that happened, so he was fully aware of everything…..

    I hope now, that this makes more sense. Know that I won’t be responding for a bit, during my internet sabbatical, but I treasure you too much, not to have said this, as I saw this before I went offline ❤

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