I went to the back doctor today. He's decided there is nothing wrong with my back so he's not going to give me pain meds. I want to kick this guy in the shins. I realize that there is nothing structurally wrong with my back but just because all the pain is from the "soft tissue" doesn't mean it hurts any less. Pain meds are pretty much the only way I've been able to get out of bed most days. I've done enough physical therapy exercises to kill a horse, but I get to go do another round. I used to walk to school, but that jacked up my foot really bad so I had to stop doing that too. Oh, there's also nothing structurally wrong with my foot.
Now, I know this isn't a newsflash to anyone, but I'm way too fat. Like, so fat the doctors are asking *me* if I have considered getting a gastric bypass. Last I checked, gastric bypass was something people go asking about, not the other way around. For the record, I'm not going to get a damn bypass. It would be useless, plus it would make me look like a walking cadaver. My problem is all mental. Too many days without food in the house, too many days on the streets and too many days being the focus of very unwelcome attention. I know it's my mind screaming for a defense and I'm trying to let it go but every time a few pounds disappear instead of feeling pumped that the efforts are paying off, my brain starts sending me telegrams about its desperate need for chocolate.
I know what to do to get rid of the weight. That is not the problem. What I need is someone to hold my hand and be a big ol' food nazi. Someone to growl at me until I comply. Someone to remind me that my husband is actually quite vicious and would take the limbs off of anyone who dared mess with me these days. Someone to remind me that I'm much more likely to enjoy the positive results of dumping 200 pounds than to suffer the negative parts. Someone to tell me that everyone feels this emotion or that emotion from time to time.
Why do I need this? Because I was doing pretty good this time last year on the losing weight front and then it all got hijacked when I experienced the feeling "shame" for the first time in my entire life. The PTSD therapy is working wonders for my anger problems. I'm actually pretty chill now. Unfortunately, leaving food alone and doing this PTSD therapy left me wide open for unexpected consequences in the form of an emotion I could have lived the rest of my life without feeling. Just that one feeling that one time has got me running for brownies every time I even *think* about trying to lose weight. So, I gained 70 pounds in the last year and I was already way too heavy to begin with. Basically, I'm too chicken to face real feelings and that's what the food is burying.
What in the heck am I going to do?