It’s hard to imagine, Dear Reader, that I’m coming up to the one year anniversary of my abdominoplasty, I’ve been through so much before and after, I know that someday I’ll be sitting here remarking how strange it feels to be over all the remaining surgeries, for now I wait. In waiting I do tend to look back, my weight-loss journey has been a complex and, I suppose, extremely successful one. One aspect of it is the complexity of our relationship with food, where, for one person it can be a pleasure, for another it can be a coping mechanism. For some it all hinges on how much. For me it was once a matter of gluttony mingled with chronic illness causing near insatiable hunger. That’s what brings me here today, my views on food have changed a great deal, naturally a consequence of becoming more educated and discerning. But, it hasn’t been a sudden change that became the whole, it’s been a slow gradual change that still jars against what was my whole world at one point.
I look at food and sometimes I really hate it, I look at junk food knowing I can’t be a part of that world and it honestly hurts. Being excluded for any reason never feels pleasant and because it’s such a complex mixture of emotions people rarely understand it. I suppose it’s as if everything sweet to you tasted like dirt to me, but I’ve had to create that feeling to save myself, well, from myself. This isn’t a natural by-product of weight-loss, Dear Reader, it why so many bloggers starting their journeys abandon those blogs, it’s why people fail. A part of my brain will always want to eat and eat, it’ll hate what it’s eating but carry on. It’ll look for gratification in food, find none and still try. People won’t understand that and just dismiss it, but I never can. What I’ve done to counter that is to create a respect for basic, healthy ingredients. To appreciate simple tastes, the kick of spicy blue basil, the subtle sweetness of sweet potatoes, the sting of garlic, and on and on and this doesn’t come naturally. It never fully will. That’s a sad truth, but a necessary one. I will never gravitate towards healthy food without some effort, no matter how small it’s still effort.
I tend to look at the hate side of the old ways, instead of the glimmer of pleasure. Hating something isn’t always healthy, but it has worked for me. I look at the old foods as enemies that made me a mess, made me hate every waking moment and slowly my views shift. People tend to screw with this because they’d rather not think too deeply about their unhealthy habits, they baulk even when I’ve said nothing, done nothing, but just exist as a good example. Their weakness is theirs to deal with, Dear Reader, I’d no more apologise for breathing at this stage. It would be hard to imagine if I hadn’t been through his for so long, but the more you grow as a person the more those stagnant around you tend to stand out. I could tell you terrible stories about people, but I won’t, just remember that I’ve never tried to sell you on anything, to convenience you that I’m anything more than an ordinary person, so decide how truthful I’m being on what you’ve seen of me, Dear Reader.
I’m tired, Dear Reader, not physically, just mentally. I feel it’s important to share these insights as I’ve rarely, if ever, seen anything like this about weight-loss. All I do here, Dear Reader, is free and, often, unrewarded. I do sincerely hope that it helps someone, that’s al I can do really. I’ll never go back, Dear Reader, but I sincerely hope that this limbo of surgical waiting lists ends sooner rather than later. I think after all I’ve been through I deserve a happy ending, don’t I? Take care, Dear Reader, when the sun shines again I’ll be out, weeding, arguing with plants and getting a reprieve from all this thinking. Still, a little honesty never hurts, does it?