I’m scheduled for surgery on 08/23. I was feeling good about it, excited even, until today. Today I’ve been panicking, and feeling full of doubt. What if I can’t do the pre-op diet and they tell me I can’t have the surgery? Then this will be all for nothing. Then, what if I do get surgery, and it doesn’t work and I’m trapped in this body forever? What if I’m such an out of control fat ass I can’t stop eating the wrong things?
I know I can do this, but I’m afraid. I want to be thin and beautiful so badly. But that little voice in the back of my head tells me that I must not want it bad enough if I allowed myself to gain so much weight.
I’ve been doing well with changing my diet though. I’m being more conscious of what I’m eating and why I’m eating it. I’m still eating things I shouldn’t, but I’m getting better.
I’m just scared. This is major. I’ve lived my whole life as a fat person. I don’t know how to be a thin person. To be able to blend in and just be anonymous in a crowd is a dream. To be able to buy clothes at any store, to wear what I want to wear, to not have to worry about fitting places or being too heavy for something, to be able to run, to not worry about being stared at or laughed at, to not be thought of as lazy or disgusting. I look forward to all of these things. I look forward to finally being happy with how I look.
I suppose I’m also afraid of having surgery. What if something goes wrong? What if I die? I’m sure I’ll be fine, but I’ll must admit that I am afraid of dying. Not because of me, but because of how it would affect my husband. How awful would that be for him to have to go home alone, and just all of the things that follow. I think I might draw up a Will, just in case.
But this will be good. Everything will be fine, and I will be on the path to a new me. Me 2.0. Right?