I just recently hit my 9-month post-op mark, and it’s been nearly 14 months since I started this whole trip. To top it off, today I happened to find the “before” pic they took of me at the sugeon’s office. Take a peek…
About 370-375 pounds… that’s what I was then. And here’s me with some old high school friends just 10 days ago.
It’s a wonder what a year, a surgery, and losing about 180 pounds can do for a guy.
You’d think I’d be happy… hell… over-joyed. Proud. Ecstatic. Thrilled.
Yea… at times I do feel those things. But ya know what else I feel? Scared.
Why? Cause, I look at the first picture, and … it’s not that I don’t recognize who that is. No… I remember all too well who that is.
But I don’t want to.
But I have to.
I want to put “him” behind me. Way behind me. But I can’t.
I have to remember him, because if I don’t… if I don’t… I’m scared I’ll become him again.
It would be too easy to do so. I know it would be. I can feel some of the habits that I’ve been fighting to keep under control coming back, especially these last few weeks. The grazing and snacking especially. Not paying as close of attention to what Joe is telling me when I’m eating.
I know what I have to do. I know how to use the tools that I have. I just have to do it… be vigilant about it. I wish I could just forget about “him”, but I can’t.
I have to remember… remember not only the things I should, but also things I don’t really want to.
That happened to me so I know what you mean. Once we get to a comfortable place it’s so easy to forget how easily we can slide back down the rabbit hole. Valid point.