Zoe

I don't know why I wore such an unflattering shirt for my six-month bandiversary photo today; I've lost more weight in my midsection than you'd think, to judge from this picture -- but what the hell, here I am half a year after banding.

I don't know why I wore such an unflattering shirt for my six-month bandiversary photo today; I've lost more weight in my midsection than you'd think, to judge from this picture -- but what the hell, here I am half a year after banding.

I don't know why I wore such an unflattering shirt for my six-month bandiversary photo today; I've lost more weight in my midsection than you'd think, to judge from this picture -- but what the hell, here I am half a year after banding.

I love this thread! All of you who have posted have great courage. I am taking a deep breath and trying to follow your example, although I'm really a big coward.
Why am I fat? I guess the easy answer is that I ate too much. I was a fat kid. When I look at old pictures of myself, I see that I was really just pudgy, but my relatives made me feel like a hippo. I weighed 165 lbs. when I was 13 and was considered a fat freak; now I can't wait to weigh 165 again.
I love food, especially sweets and other carbs. Once I reached adulthood I almost always felt hungry, no matter how much I ate, and like DeLarla I agree that a half-gallon of ice cream equals two servings (if you can't get it all down in one sitting, that is). I was self-conscious about how much and how fast I ate, and like Ryan I was aware that I wasn't thinking or feeling anything while I was shoveling away the food.< /p>
I am a lifelong depressive, medicated for years now. I reached my lowest adult weight (170) while in the depths of a paralyzing funk; compulsive exercising was the only thing that kept me from going over the edge. When I finally sought help for that last depressive episode, I was put on drugs, and sure enough my appetite, or perhaps simply lack of control, returned, and with it all the pounds I had lost. I decided -- correctly, I still think -- that it was better to be fat and sane than fit and crazy, so I just gave into my compulsive overeating. The pills really did bring back my appetite, but I also used them as an excuse for giving up control to food. Before banding, I could eat a whole cheesecake in one go -- and I make a great cheesecake, believe me. I would stand there disgusted with myself having devoured half the plate, thinking I was a hopeless loser, but I still felt hungry and figured what the hell, what's the difference between half a cheesecake and a whole one?
The band has messed with my mind. Six months after my surgery I haven't come to terms with all the changes, the biggest one being that for once in my life I don't feel hungry. I throw food away. I leave leftovers on the plate. I don't go back for seconds, not because I'm imposing discipline on my appetite but because I just don't want any more. Who is this person? Yes, I still eat Desserts, but maybe once or twice a week and only if I'm really craving something and haven't had much to eat that day. (I used to think dessert was part of every meal, every day -- including Breakfast.) Actually I wonder if I've turned some of my food obsession over to this board; I have to look at posts every day, this from someone who used to check her home e-mail about twice a month.
I used to be sure I knew what made me fat, but the band is making me rethink all my prior beliefs about my own mind and body.

I love this thread! All of you who have posted have great courage. I am taking a deep breath and trying to follow your example, although I'm really a big coward.
Why am I fat? I guess the easy answer is that I ate too much. I was a fat kid. When I look at old pictures of myself, I see that I was really just pudgy, but my relatives made me feel like a hippo. I weighed 165 lbs. when I was 13 and was considered a fat freak; now I can't wait to weigh 165 again.
I love food, especially sweets and other carbs. Once I reached adulthood I almost always felt hungry, no matter how much I ate, and like DeLarla I agree that a half-gallon of ice cream equals two servings (if you can't get it all down in one sitting, that is). I was self-conscious about how much and how fast I ate, and like Ryan I was aware that I wasn't thinking or feeling anything while I was shoveling away the food.< /p>
I am a lifelong depressive, medicated for years now. I reached my lowest adult weight (170) while in the depths of a paralyzing funk; compulsive exercising was the only thing that kept me from going over the edge. When I finally sought help for that last depressive episode, I was put on drugs, and sure enough my appetite, or perhaps simply lack of control, returned, and with it all the pounds I had lost. I decided -- correctly, I still think -- that it was better to be fat and sane than fit and crazy, so I just gave into my compulsive overeating. The pills really did bring back my appetite, but I also used them as an excuse for giving up control to food. Before banding, I could eat a whole cheesecake in one go -- and I make a great cheesecake, believe me. I would stand there disgusted with myself having devoured half the plate, thinking I was a hopeless loser, but I still felt hungry and figured what the hell, what's the difference between half a cheesecake and a whole one?
The band has messed with my mind. Six months after my surgery I haven't come to terms with all the changes, the biggest one being that for once in my life I don't feel hungry. I throw food away. I leave leftovers on the plate. I don't go back for seconds, not because I'm imposing discipline on my appetite but because I just don't want any more. Who is this person? Yes, I still eat Desserts, but maybe once or twice a week and only if I'm really craving something and haven't had much to eat that day. (I used to think dessert was part of every meal, every day -- including Breakfast.) Actually I wonder if I've turned some of my food obsession over to this board; I have to look at posts every day, this from someone who used to check her home e-mail about twice a month.
I used to be sure I knew what made me fat, but the band is making me rethink all my prior beliefs about my own mind and body.

And here's something to help do it: My size 11s headed toward Dr. Fisher's bony behind.