I ended up obsessed with food and counting calories, my blood pressure and cholesterol remained the same as before, and, worst of all, I still didn't love my myself. Overall, I felt less healthy than before. While the surgery had worked in the sense that I'd lost some weight, in the end I felt like it failed. Mentally, spiritually, and emotionally, I was a wreck. Physically, I was supposed to be healthier, but I didn't feel healthy at all. My eating disorder, on the other hand, had never really gone away and was now back in full force. Within two years, I'd gained back half of what I'd lost, and the compliments dried up along with my self-esteem. Not all of it, but enough that it was noticeable. Then, I slowly started to gain the weight back. I wanted everyone to validate me-and as long as I was losing weight, they did. Everywhere I went, I was praised and lauded (one person even called me a "hero," as if losing weight is akin to pulling someone out of a burning building) and I got addicted to the praise. While I was happy with the results, everyone around me was ecstatic. That wasn't covered by insurance either, as it's considered cosmetic, and I paid an additional $6,000 out of pocket. The next year, I celebrated with an arm lift to remove some of the excess skin. In the year after the surgery, I lost 100 pounds, getting down to 165. But I still felt good because it seemed to be working. I would experience dizzy spells and feel weak. I could only eat a little bit at a time, totaling less than 1,000 calories a day. After that I could pretty much go back to my regular life, but the full recovery was a slow process. Immediately afterward, I was in a lot of pain, which lasted for about two weeks. Even though I was a little scared, I saw the surgery as a rebirth of sorts, the solution to all my mental and physical pain. I was finally doing something about this issue that had plagued me my whole life. For the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful. The week before the surgery I had to follow an all-liquid diet, which was awful. So I made the incredibly risky decision to have it done in Mexico and fronted the $10,000 myself. Because of my history with eating disorders, my insurance wouldn't cover the surgery. As a result, you can end up with problems like vitamin deficiencies and bowel issues. I chose that one because it doesn't affect the intestines with other types of weight-loss surgery, most of the small intestine is bypassed. There were several options, but I decided on a vertical sleeve gastrectomy, a type of weight-loss surgery where they remove 80 percent of your stomach. If I was going to lose weight, I was going to have to do something major-like surgery. I'd tried diet and exercise, and while I'd lose a few pounds, I'd always put it back on. Related: 'How I Lost 300 Pounds Without Living In The Gym'įinally, in 2011, at 263 pounds, I decided I'd had enough of failed diets and hating myself. My weight went up and down during this time. After the assault, I had a very hard time coping, and one way I managed my feelings was with food. I was caught in a cycle of bingeing, purging, and blaming my "broken" body for everything that went wrong. During my first week of school, I was raped by two men. I don't even remember how many diets I'd done by the time I graduated.Ĭollege brought new challenges. Yet I still kept trying to be the "ideal" woman that society told me I was supposed to be. I saw how people treated me differently because of it-girls made catty comments and boys saw me as a sex object when I was thinner or ignored me when I was heavier. As a result, I started my first diet.īy high school, I not only hated my body, but I was also deeply ashamed of it. I constantly felt bigger than other girls, and that was when I learned my body was "bad." The girls who were quiet, small, and thin were praised as being beautiful, and I was none of those things. Middle school was the first time I can remember actively hating my body.
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