DeLarla

Paula, that was pretty funny because sometimes we read what we want to see, and I thought you were offering that we all ate nothing but junk food for an entire day tomorrow. I was all about that, instantly planning all the crap I'd buy at 7-11 in the morning. But then I read it a 2nd time, hahah, joke's on me. You're on, girlie. NO JUNK FOOD for one whole day. None. Protein and veggies, not even a carb. I'll do Michelle's-double-water-pee thing to keep me busy. I think I can, I think I can, I think... I know I can, I KNOW I can. Let me know if you can't find the little jug. It makes me feel very important, cuz I know I don't have to measure or get up off my fat butt to re-fill it. When it's empty, I'm done. But tomorrow I shall do two of them to keep me away from the junk!

Ryan, what an amazing story. This is the most healing thread ever. How do I make it one of those "sticky" things that stays at the top? I think I'll start a new thread for annual awards for the best threads, most creative, most controversial, etc. This one blows me away. This thread is the root of everything that has ever been wrong with me and my life. My food addictions and sick past will never leave me, no matter how much therapy I endure. Asking some of us to let go of the past is no different than asking me to change my hazel eyes to blue. I could put in some blue contact lenses, but I'll have to take them out at night in the dark when I'm all alone. We can't change. I don't dwell on the past or think of it when I'm eating, or when I'm watching food, or when I'm thinking of what to eat next. The memories aren't even around any more, but what happened to many of us when we were kids was like being branded for life with a hot Iron... many, many hot irons, over and over again. Sure, we can move on and say we'll eat slow, and we can chant matras to try to eat slow, and we can post notes reminding us to eat slow, and we can do daily affirmations, scream for help and go through the motions of eating slow. We can and do eat slow after much concentration and effort. But you simply can't re-program my brain to automatically eat slow, eat small, or stop when I'm full. It takes 24/7 work. I can't let my guards down for 2 seconds. I was losing weight and feeling great till the Christmas goodies, in all their heaps of abundance, won the fight. I started slow, using my new band as a tool, but eventually got right back into my old, pre-band habits of eating blind, numb, in hiding, fast, messy, glutonous. I hate myself for it. I should be hiding in the corner in shame, and I should hate myself. But I don't, and that's the progress I've made. That's where my personal growth shows. So even though I can't shake the embedded scars that my evil mother created, and even though I can't let go of the food that governs my every breathe, at least I can love myself now - most of the time anyway. I felt so alone, like nobody could ever understand my dark world. But right here, in this very post, I see that other people had to eat molded, rottten, cold scraps for Breakfast. Ryan, my Momster did the exact thing. We'd have to gag down boiled liver and crunchy lima Beans, no salt, no butter, no bread with mostly-clear powdered milk. My sister often gagged at the table, causing a gag reflex for my brother and I with 3 children vomiting at the table like one of those "waves" the crowds do at football games. I eventually learned a way to open the back of my throat and swallow whole chunks to avoid the taste. But if I couldn't get the last chunk down, it would be cold and old on the table in the morning. The first time I cut school was in kindergarden on Halloween, when she put something so digusting in front of me that I sat crying in it. She wouldn't let me go to school till I ate it, but then sent me late, on Halloween, with no costume (as if I didn't already stand out like the class freak.) So I walked around all day long, a lost little girl. Looking back, it was learning how to swallow food in whole chunks that began my need to gulp food as fast as possible. But I never got satisfaction from eating and gulping food, so as an adult, I just kept gulping and gulping everything in site, past being physically sick and never getting any enjoyment out of food. Just needing more, needing something, not getting what I need. To those of you that think we can shake these childhood traumas, we simply can't. I can't stop thinking about food. I'm stuffed from my salad and one piece of pizza, but for Heaven's sake, there's 3 pieces left in the kitchen screaming my name. I have to stop typing every few lines to mentally tell the pizza to shut up. I also have dreams of food. Huge, binge, fattening food. I feel full in my dreams. I hate myself in my dreams. We certainly can't control what we dream about. I've seen about a dozen therapists, and each one treats me like I'm the Lifetime Movie of the Week. They sit back in awe of these tales - and these are eating-disorder specialists. But the therapists haven't heard too much, so they're not too familiar with eating disorders, because dishonesty and "closet eating" are what they usually see in clients. Not me, I tell it like it is. Then they don't know what to tell me, so they send me away with the name of some book that some other normal-weighted person wrote based on what they learned in college. Ryan, everyone... keep sharing. I think this is brilliant. I'm 42 years old, and I'm finally meeting people who know me intimately. Some of you know me better than my husband because you are me, you've been there. Hey, guess what? After all these years, we're not alone, and it feels amazing. The last thing I want is sympathy, which would only make me feel pathetic. Perhaps that why I don't take things too seriously. I learned to laugh. Laughter saved my life. I learned to be blunt and say what's on my mind. I'm often too blunt, too outspoken, but that's just because I want to be heard. I don't want to sit in a corner alone any more, in the dark, crying. Writing just this one page was more valuable to me than all my therapy combined. If anyone read this far, thank you.

I do have one very stiff warning. Dr. Lopez must be well known and respected at the boarder, because he sends a certain taxi to the airport that picks you up and slides you right through customs within minutes. I did not wait going, and I did not wait coming back. However, on my second trip to Mexico to see Kuri, I was on my own. We parked our car on the California side and walked across the border to the taxi depot. Then we took Taxi Libre to Kuri's office. (Note, always take Taxi Libre instead of the others cuz it's the cheapest taxi company.) On my way out of Mexico, I grabbed a Taxi Libre and asked him to take us to the taxi depot so that we could walk across the boarder. But the taxi driver said he'd drive us across the boarder to the California parking lot. Well, we were naive since he said he did it all the time, but we almost got ourselves in a mess. When we got to the boarder, a bunch of cops came running trying to find out why a Taxi Libre was crossing. The driver was apparently using us to sneak across. The boarder patrolmen told us that Taxi drivers know damn well that they're not allowed to cross, so they almost accused us of trying to smuggle an illegal alien across the boarder. So they separated us and got the driver out of his car. They looked me dead in the eye and asked why I was there, so I lifted my shirt and told them I had surgery with Dr. Pedro Kuri. They asked if I had drugs, and I said "yes" and dumped my suitcase out, but they laughed at me and told me to go through cause I even showed them the antibacterial cream and a tube of chapstick. They are only looking for illegal smuggling of PEOPLE for starters, and quantities of drugs that can be sold in the US. So, if your doctor sends a car to meet you at the airport, well that driver was able to cross the boarder to leave the United States, so he won't have a problem getting you across the boarder. But if some taxi company offers to cross you, they are just hoping to use you to get across to the United States. Maybe the driver hoped I would be nice and come up with some lame excuse that the boarder patrol would believe, but it just got him in trouble. I'm not sure what they did with him, but once I was safe in the US, we ran like rats to our car!

My friend's mother can't always afford her pain medication, so when I was in Mexico we went into about 10 pharmacies looking for Percocet and/or Codeine. I was under the impression you could buy anything over-the-counter there. Not true. We talked to quite a few pharmacists in TJ, and all of them that we ran into were honest. We asked for the strongest over-the-counter meds - it became a research project. The strongest you can buy is basically comparable to Flexeril (muscle relaxer.) We bought about 10 bottles, which I showed them to customs along with my 3 prescriptions from my doctor, and they waved me right through and said they're not concerned with anything you buy in their pharmacies. Basically, there are certain Mexican doctors that will write you any prescriptions you want if you slip them some cash. So if you find a doc to write you 20 prescriptions for Lortab or Darvocet, then you may have trouble getting through customs. On my first trip they asked my purpose, and I told them I had the Band placed by Dr. Juan Lopez Corvala. They waived me right through without even asking if I had any medications. I was under the impression that they were happy to get American money.

This darn challenge worked. I got half my water in.

My problem is I succumbed to the first addictive bite... so now I hope the wrecking ball stops after my cycle is over. Facial piercings are really "in" these days. My latest invention is a padlock that slips between the top and bottom lip. Only certified Band Buddies at my local clinics have access to the keys. Fashionable, yet extremely effective. They'll be available this spring with an assortment of dangly decorative charms as part of the fall line. Order early.

And back to my wound... ouch, it hurts today. The silly thing is actually trying to close over. It's been closed for 3 days, but with the thinnest membrane of skin. It's just dying to pop back open again. One false move and KAPLOOEY. I'm keeping it covered with a thick bandage just to protect it from bumping things. Yesterday 9 things hit it (like nobody smacks your back till you're sunburned.) My cat jumped on me, a flying bag landed on it, a door smacked it, etc.

My doctor said, "absolutely NEVER drink with meals." Since today's been one constant meal, how am I supposed to drink my water? The water cooler is next to the evil bag of chocolates.

Interesting. Growing up I figured there were two kinds of parents. My insane mother, and a bunch of June Cleavers and Carol Bradys. I never imagined anything inbetween, with mothers smoking pot and fathers buying 30 pounds of cheese. Violet, wouldn't it be wonderful to have those small serving meals handed to you on a plate these days? That would be awesome! No more thinking, like living with Jenny Craig or one of Oprah's famous dieticians.

"my vision of "enough" has truly changed" This is what I wish to achieve. There never seems to be enough.

I usually finish my water by lunch, but I haven't even started today. There's too much chocolate in my belly. Somebody shoot me.

Where is my port-problem-pal? I haven't seen Melissa around. Maybe I'll take a current pic of my boo-boo in the purple bra just to keep Donali around.

And I still have those red lace fingerless gloves that would go lovely with black. Zoe, that is such a good point. Maybe if we all started our new year's resolutions in the 2nd week, we'd be more sucessful. I bet you could do a national survey and reveal the truth about trying to start a fresh year with all the lingering holiday stuff still lingering. By Friday it will all be stale, so next week sounds much better to me. By the way, I donated ALL my baking supplies to my (skinny) teenage neighbor. Her gramma got her cookie cook books for Christmas, so I have just completed the baking portion of my life. Next module, please.

Zoe, have I told you I LOVE YOU today? January 6 is a perfect day for me to start over!

I'm not really worried about the gain, I'm petrified about the bad habits I picked up. I came in today thinking it was a new year, with the holidays behind us. But someone brought their party leftovers (an entire spiral ham, a huge deli platter and 5 pounds of chocolates.) I had no intention of touching anything, but I downed about 20 pieces of the candy in a chocolate-induced hypnotic state. I was fine before the holidays, but partaking in the goodies started the destruction ball swinging again. I hope after the PMS stage and after this gloomy rain is done, I can get back on track. For the guys, try going through PMS and rain while ignorning five pounds of chocolate. I dare you.

I'm glad I backed out of this challenge! So, how did it go? Is there a winner (or should I say a big loser?)

Paula, I found the container at Walgreens. The sticker on the bottle says Water U. It was only $3.99, and there's a website on the bottle dscproducts.com 1(800) 895-6563. But I checked out the site and it looks like they sell them to distributors only. They should be able to tell you where to get one locally. I'm going to buy another one next time I'm at Walgreens. If they have them, I'll mail ya one!

Adam got lost on the way to the apple tree but refused to ask for directions. He was helpless, so God created Eve. Eve immediately found the apple - she had no intentions of biting it - she didn't even like apples - but she had to bite it to prove to Adam that women make the rules. Some things just don't change.

Getting back to how my food relationship has changed... well, it hasn't really, but I work at it. Right after getting banded I took a plate of food to the trash can and tossed it out. I felt like I just made my first poopy in the toilet. I like putting food in the garbage disposal for fun, too. I go to the park to feed the ducks once a week, and I love feeding horses, cows, mules, kids. Food, feed, eat, food, food. I wish it would get out of my head.

"that isn't fair to wolves." Gosh, we just gotta laugh at this stuff now! I never even knew I was a food horder till I read this post about stocked pantries (that could be a fun typo.. stocked panties.) Every couple months our mom would give in to her PMS and buy 1/2 gallon ice cream, and like starved wolves, nobody would take their eyes off the container in fear someone would get a bigger share (it never made it to the freezer.) She sliced right therough the carton with a sharp knife and slap a quarter - container and all - on our plate. We'd scamper to individual corners and devour then lick the carton clean, like wolves. Now I hate the grocery store. It's like sending a cocaine addict to a cocaine factory with huge piles of white powder everywhere: boxed, canned, packaged, fresh, frozen, wrapped in sparkly paper. So I always come home with a trunk load of stuff, most of which gets thrown away. And your dad buying all that cheese, gosh, I love these stories cause they make me feel less of a freak. We also had powdered milk... we were the only ones I knew that had the crap, but I never drank so much as a sip. I don't know why Mommy Dearest wasted her money on it, because nobody really drank it. And I thought we were the only ones that had a pressure cooker! Till this day my sister can't eat chicken Soup, which is what the Momster called the plaster she made once a month. Put a whole chicken in the pressure cooker with barley and a whole onion and it came out thick paste. Momster would sucking the insides of bones dry, but I got lucky and always got the neck. I was the youngest, so chicken necks to me are like prime rib to normal people.

No more added salt. Learn at least one song on my guitar other than the world's worst rendition of Tequila Sunrise. Write a book. No more gambling... there, I said it. My name is Gamblina, and I'm a 4-Card Nickle Keno junkie.

Pat, I like how you said, "young girl" cuz I was never a little girl either. And I'm right there with you having to order a salad while waiting to eat, and getting agitated if the waiter marched by me holding a salad only to bring it to someone else. I have urges to join strangers in restaurants because they pick at their food then just have the waiter take it away. I feel like yelling, "NOOOO, I WANT THAT!." Food is my Lord. I can pretend that I'm healing, and I can fight the urges sometimes, but this is just how my brain was wired in the food department.

The story behind the bra is funny to me, because there really is NO story! I just wanted to post a picture of my wound. I didn't even think about what underwear I was wearing, but the bra ended up getting more attention than my wound! The red glove came later as a joke (after everything the purple bra went through.) And I still have the bra and the gloves.

Violet, this is why I only write down my weight once a month. It takes the body a long time to adjust to weight loss. If you aren't eating enough to maintain the body of an obsese person, then they weight will eventually come off. Make sure you don't have any medical reasons for not losing first, but enjoy what you've already lost. Don't look at it as having lost the biggest chunk in the beginning, but rather average it out and realize that you are doing fantastic. Let your body heal and adjust to your new eating. I went through the same thing a couple months after being banded, where the weight didn't seem to move, but then 3 pounds would fall off over night. Patience, my friend. It will happen.

Rachel, you don't have to do 15 minutes today. You can start with five minutes. Heck, you can do five in the morning, then five at night. First, pat yourself on the back for getting on the bike. Go easy on yourself, start slow. I promise, if you stick to five minutes a day pretty soon you body won't even notice it and you'll find yourself WANTING to go for 6 or 7 minutes. It will get easier, and you will start feeling a lot better. And try not making so many changes at once. Stick to one or two things that you know you'll be able to change. This is the first year that I didn't make drastic NY Resolutions. This is the first year that I would really like to keep at least one. I don't think I've ever kept one.