Long Weekend

Short weekend, but long weekend when you're waiting to be sliced and diced in two days.

I'm starting to have second thoughts. Second thoughts about whether or not I'm making the right choice. I'm drastically changing my life, and I'm not sure if I'm ready. I think I'm just anxious about the surgery and more apprehensive about the aftermath.

I've read where depression after getting the LB is common, and with my history, I might need to double down on my happy pills. Not sure if I mentioned it, but I've been on zoloft for about 7yrs now, off and on, but mostly on. Depression runs in my family so it wasn't a surprise when I had my first daughter I suffered from PPD really bad. It was then that I started the medication and was able to see things clearer.

I tried to get off of them for a while, but then I found myself extremely irritable and really hard to live with. My DH and P1 were walking on eggshells not knowing what would set me off, so I decided to get back on the meds. What a difference they made for me. When I had my second daughter, I continued on the meds (yes, it was safe while pregnant) and even had to up my dose after I had her. I felt like a failure (again) for having to resort to more meds, but I knew in my heart that I was doing it for me and her. A healthy mommy is a better mommy. No sense being miserable when there is medication that CAN and WILL help.

Why am I going into this? Well, because I can see myself having 'buyer's remorse' (like one blogger comment termed) and instantly start regretting my decision. I know I've talked about this before, but I know I'm going to be miserable. It's already starting. I had a mini-meltdown earlier today with my DH about something stupid. I really don't think he grasps the HUGE change that is about to occur with me. He doesn't get the severity and finality of it all. He seems to have it in his little brain that once I lose the weight, I get the band removed and life is normal again. I know that's not the case, but I can't get him to understand that it's final and I will more than likely die with the band in place...restricting me until I die.

OMG- do I want to live a life restricted?

OMG- aren't I already living a life restricted??


Forgive me if this is all over the place. A lot on my mind this evening. As you can imagine.

Also, my friend's recent ex-husband just passed away yesterday. My friend and I used to work together and her ex got my husband his starting position with the company that he still works for. We have a lot to be thankful to Rich for, and his passing suddenly just hits a little too close to home. We even shared a birthday. Although I hadn't seen him in years, it doesn't make the loss any easier, and I have to be there for my friend. I'm afraid we probably won't be able to make the service, depending on how I feel...but we shall see. I hope to.

Anyway, so a lot on my plate this Sunday night.

I've also cheated. On Friday night I had chinese food for dinner. I couldn't choke down another shake.

Yesterday I had a few bites of eggs and a few bites of grilled chicken breast. Today, I've had two peices of bread and a few more bites of chicken breast. This morning I also had some chorizo/eggs/cheese on a small flour tortilla. I'm a hot mess (shoutout Amy P). I managed to lose another pound though (no change on the ticker since I'm back to where I was before. I keep fluctuating...geee, I wonder why that is happening.) Sigh.

At this point, I've kind of given up. I'm not stopping the shakes, I will still choke them down, but I'm not going to beat myself up about my slip-ups anymore. It's too close to the end for me to change anything. No, I'm not going to blow it completely and eat whatever tomorrow. I will still try to be good and responsible. I started out with gusto and it's quicky spiraled downward. What's done is done and if DK gets in there and can't perform the surgery, I will have no one to blame but myself.