This past weekend my family gathered to celebrate my nephew Aiden's high school graduation. I went back and forth, fighting with myself over whether or not to go. I came up with a number of "reasons" not to go. It was going to be hot outside. Walking is still very difficult for me ever since my ankle and fibula fractures last winter, so I'd have to use my wheelchair. I haven't been able to go in for a haircut since last November. And oh yeah, I'm fatter again. Ever since my injury in December I've been gaining weight. In fact, I have regained 60 pounds out of the 100 pounds that I had lost. There are many factors that led up to this. The inactivity as a result of being non weight bearing on my left leg for eight weeks. More limited food choices at the nursing facility where I spent 3 months following my surgery. The return of poor eating habits. Because I hated the food at the nursing facility I would order delivery a couple nights a week. I also discovered that Walmart would deliver my "snacks" right to my room! I started ordering candy, chips, fruit snacks (which proved to be my biggest downfall), granola bars, pop, whatever I wanted. I did order some fresh fruit too, so not every choice was "bad". I had fallen into a deep depression because I was cut off from face-to-face contact with family and friends the vast majority of the time. I was bored out of my mind and found myself mindlessly grabbing for the food and shoveling it into my mouth and not even realizing that I was doing it until 10 minutes would go by.
I thought it would be better when I got home. I thought I'd be able to jump right back into my healthy eating habits. But that didn't happen. Coming home was much harder than I thought it would be. I knew that it wasn't going to be easy, but I wasn't mentally prepared for how challenging it was going to be. The stairs leading to my apartment door were precarious and continue to present a significant challenge for me. I had been spending hours and hours and hours searching for an apartment that did not have any steps and would be safe and accessible for me prior to coming home without any success. I'm still plugging away on my search for new housing. My landlord did install two grab bars in the bathroom for me as well as add additional handrails on my stairs for increased safety. The first time I used my bathroom after coming home, I sat on the toilet in tears because I was afraid to try to stand up. The last time I had been in that bathroom was on December 16, 2023, the night I passed out. Just walking to the bathroom was a challenge. I don't know. I think that I was expecting everything to go back to normal the instant I walked through the door and saw my kitties again. Then a good friend who had been instrumental in cheering me on in my weight loss efforts moved across the country and I kind of gave up. I was bored, so I ate. I was sad, so I ate. I started "rewarding" myself with food for simply waking up in the morning. The depression grew stronger and stronger. I withdrew further and further into myself. Melissa Etheridge sings "I wrapped my fear around me like a blanket", Well, I wrapped my "fat" around me like a blanket. I follow the healthy eating plan the doctor wants me to follow for a day and then I say "Fuck it! It's not going to matter anyway. It's too late for me."
Things are harder for me again now that I have regained the weight. I had gotten to the point last fall where I could actually reach down and tie my shoes myself again. Now, I can't even reach my feet. Getting in and out of my van is more difficult. Sure, the injury plays a part in that one, but I have noticed that my left knee feels like it wants to buckle underneath me when I try to get out of the van and I'm once again having some knee pain which I hadn't been having since having my knees replaced a couple of years ago. The orthopedic surgeons had given me a second chance and I was making great strides towards becoming more physically active so that I could do more with my family and friends and once again, that has all been stripped away. I've been avoiding family and friends, definitely in person, but also on Zoom, because I feel ashamed and embarrassed over my appearance. I especially don't want to go to any events that involve food because of how self-conscious I feel and all of the obsessive thoughts that I know I will have to deal with. This open house should have been about Aiden. He wanted a picture of our family, celebrating his special day. And all I could think about was how fucking fat I looked, sitting front and center in my wheelchair. When I first saw the picture, I cried. I thought to myself "I don't belong". I'm too fat to exist. I want to die. It's been a while since I've had those feelings. I don't like them. And then I remember that as long as I'm still here, I have a chance, an opportunity to change. Maybe there is still hope that one day I will come into my own and go from being that scared, depressed, ugly duckling to becoming a self-confident, beautiful swan.
