Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

BMI Bullshit

Fat, how I hate thee. Let me count the ways!  

My weight has basically leveled off. My surgeon and my husband are both pretty convinced that this is where my body has decided it wants to be, but I'm not done yet. I can't accept it. I did not have gastric bypass surgery to still be fat. I flat out refuse to roll over and accept the fact that I am still in the OBESE category after losing 145 fucking pounds. 

I am 5' 5" tall and I was 330 pounds, give or take, at my highest. I weighed 292 pounds on the day of surgery in November 2011. Today, I weigh 184, with a BMI of 30.6. A BMI over 30 is considered obese. Oh, HELL no!

I'm not happy with the number on the scale, nor will I ever be. I realize this. My thinking is flawed, I'm slightly sick in the head, and I am totally delusional. Reality sucks a good portion of the time, so I do prefer to live in my own little bubble, but there are things that I know must be faced. This is most definitely one of them. I will NOT still be obese after bypass. 

I did some calculating and I would need to get down to 150 to even hit a BMI of 25, which is the start of the "overweight" category. Really?! I would die if I were to see a number that low register on my scale. A number that low seems unattainable and the thought of even attempting to get halfway there is daunting. How can I lose another 40 pounds? I've been stuck in the 180's for way too long now and I just don't know if I have it in me to lose that much more. I want it, trust me, but do I have the chutzpah to go for it? Do I have the strength and determination to actually make it happen?

As far as motivation goes, I'm either all in, or all OUT. There is no in-between for me. I'm either a manic mess of clean eating and hardcore exercise, following rules to a fault, or I'm Debbie Downer, confined to my bed because depression has crushed me into my mattress and I can only get up to stuff stupid carbs in my face and fall back into a coma of loathing and self-pity. I'm working with a new psychiatrist and I've seen the surgeon's food addiction/eating disorder counselor, and both have encouraged me to go back to treatment. That's all fine and dandy, but "ain't nobody got time for that!" Seriously, that would be a tremendous hassle added to a life that's already a hassle, so that's just not gonna happen right now.

So, do I get off my ass, lose another 40 pounds, and probably still hate myself and my body, or do I give up and face the fact that I'll always be fat, no matter what I do? Man, choices, choices!