(Picture stolen from Single Dad Laughing)
So, I was blog hopping the other day to kill some time, and I landed on Single Dad Laughing. I always love his posts. I don't know why I haven't added him to my blogroll yet. I need to remedy that immediately.
Anyway, posts from his archives flash across the top of his main page. One popped up with a picture that reminded me so much of myself three years ago that I had to click on it (see above). I'm so glad I did. It was THIS. (Please click it and read. Please? It's totally clean and appropriate--no worries that I'm taking you to a profanity riddled porn fest or anything).
For those of you who are too lazy or stubborn to click, here's a very brief summary: Most of us--probably all of us--hide parts of ourselves because we feel the need to be perfect, and exposing that part would make us unbearably imperfect. He gives some real life examples of how sometimes this "disease called perfection" can be deadly. Really, I can't do the post justice. Please, just go read it.
Anyway, at the end of the post, he asks this:
Will you help me spread “Real”? Tell us below just how perfect you aren’t. You never know who might be alive tomorrow because you were real today. You never know who needs to feel like they aren’t alone in their inability to be perfect. Even if you comment as an anonymous guest, please comment. Tell us what you struggle with. Tell a sad or dark secret. Get vulnerable. Get real.
The post moved me so much that I'll accept the challenge. And I'm asking you to do the same. Here in the comments, or on your own blogs. If you post it on your blog, let me know and I'll link it here.
So, here's my dose of real.
I've been extremely open about being morbidly obese and documenting my weight loss through gastric bypass. I even showed you all the skin the weight loss left behind. But I've been a lot less real about my struggle with regain over the past 14 months.
I've gained 30-35 pounds (depending on when I step on the scale). I've gone from a size 4 to a size 10-12 (mostly 12). I feel like a failure. Those 35 pounds may as well be 135 pounds because that's how they make me feel.
I know that I'm not the only person who has regained after weight loss surgery, but I feel like I am. I feel extreme shame that I couldn't stay in those size fours. I'm embarrassed to have people who saw me as a size four see me now. I seriously considered skipping my annual get together in Las Vegas this year because all those people would see how fat I'd gotten. Logically, I know that's probably the last thing on their minds, but no one ever said shame was logical.
Adding to my sense of failure is that I really have been working hard to lose it. But it's not working. I even got so desperate that I tried weight loss pills. I know, I know. I would chastise any of you if you said you were taking them. But that's how desperate I got. 1200 calories a day and intense 90 minute workouts five days a week weren't doing anything, so maybe the pills would. Obviously they didn't. I just felt like a squirrel on crack. I got a lot done those few weeks, just didn't lose any weight.
So, that's my real for right now. I'm a big fat weight loss failure. I couldn't beat it. I want to hide everyday because of it.
I don't want you to tell me I'm not fat. That's not the point here. I'm not looking for people to tell me I'm wrong. I'm just putting it out there because I know that there are others out there in my shoes, and I want them to know they're not alone.
So, now it's your turn. Get real.
Here's a post from Crystal, who beat me to it this morning.
Here's a post from Tex.
Here's a post from Rena.
Here's a post from AngelButton.
Here's a post from BlueCodeRed.
Here's a post from Bennett.
Here's a post from Jen.