GotItDoneInHarlem

One year, 12/17/14. Lost 150 of 298 pounds in one year. 298 on left, 175 upper right, 148 lower right.

One year, 12/17/14. Lost 150 of 298 pounds in one year. 298 on left, 175 upper right, 148 lower right.

One year, 12/17/14. Lost 150 of 298 pounds in one year. 298 on left, 175 upper right, 148 lower right.

Yes, what he did took courage, but it has been incredibly painful. But at least I can say I've haven't eaten my feelings. I'm not an emotional eater, never was, but his absence hurts.
He's no angel, and there was so much left unsaid, he never really gave me a reason, but I know this played a major role. I wrote him and thanked him for opening my eyes and I apologized for the role I played. Told him that I was entering treatment as well. He's maintaining distance and has ignored me. That's okay though. I get to focus on me now.

One year, 12/17/14. Lost 150 of 298 pounds in one year. 298 on left, 175 upper right, 148 lower right.

One year, 12/17/14. Lost 150 of 298 pounds in one year. 298 on left, 175 upper right, 148 lower right.

One year, 12/17/14. Lost 150 of 298 pounds in one year. 298 on left, 175 upper right, 148 lower right.

Gotitdoneinharlem, looking great! Wow!

So I hit one year on last Wednesday, the 17th, and an only now bringing myself to do an update.
My surgery was a success! A major success! So much that I couldn't let go of that losing feeling. I kept telling myself that the 5-10 pound rebound (if there even is one) after one stops losing and then puts a couple on would stress me out less and be less "traumatic" is I lost just a little bit more. And that was it, I always felt I needed/wanted to lose a little more so that the rebound wouldn't hurt as much and I could.
It wasn't until I sailed long past my medical goal and my personal goal that I would see what I was doing. It wasn't until my partner told me that I looked sick and was no longer attractive or appealing on an intimate level, that I even began to think there was trouble brewing. People expressed concern at work. The people I supervise would ask vague questions to gauge when I would stop such as, "So how much more do you have to lose before your doctor's goal gets here?" My friends ignored and avoided the topic as it was easy to explain that my sense of hunger hadn't returned yet and I was struggling to get more in so I loaded up the lunch bag or ordered in for Breakfast and lunch so that people could see me eat. i carried around Protein Shakes that I'd pour into sink or toilet so I always had food on me. When they weren't looking I'd throw half or all the breakfast sandwich away and if I did eat 3/4th of one half of it, it sure as hell wasn't going to eat lunch that day so I began going "out" for lunch, but not eating.
It wasn't until my partner left me without even one bit of explanation that I took a good look at myself. I was dumped on the phone. Well, actually, my partner said "it's over" and hung up on me. I went to pack the contents of the drawer my partner kept in my home, something I had avoided doing for quite some time, and found that it was empty. Everything had been taken home the last time we saw each other. My partner saw it coming and uncereminiously dumped me because I was still so oblivious to my own role and in denial that walking away was the easier option than to continue to fight with me over the obvious. My partner knew that walking away from this issue was the only option.
My surgiversry was this past Wednesday, the 17th. I am the lowest weight I can remember as an adult. My previous memory of a low weight was 170. I'm 6' tall and currently weigh 148. I have a big frame and "carried my weight well" and look like a shadow of myself. I lost exactly 150 pounds in one year. I have lost over ONE HALF of my body weight. I am 8 pounds above being underweight, and, if I had plastics today, I bet those pounds would be gone too.
I NEVER thought this would be me.
I did it ALL right. I even read the emotional support handbook three times at different phases of my journey AND still highly recommended it to others (and still would). I'm a man and not the demographic for eating disorders at all, but I couldn't let go of the control and success. I had to keep going. Where I had man boobs I have protruding ribs. I have a flat chest for the first time in my life but my nipples hang low. For a while I looked GREAT in clothes for the SECOND time in my life, but now I look like shit naked or in clothes because you can always see my face. I look sick and I want to lose a few more still. When the number drops below me previous new low I get a rush of excitement.
That rush and exictement over a new low scares the hell out of me. I've cancelled my holiday trip home, told as many friends, family, and coworkers that I know will be around to support me no matter what, and I am spending Christmas in the hospital after being cleared for inpatient treatment of a eating disorder. I check in on Christmas Eve and I have 11 days off, until January 5th, to stay in the hospital. It's a short program designed to get a couple pounds on you, develop an outpatient plan, and get me a new psych and talk therapist. I'm presenting with a multiple diagnosis of various mental health concerns and am approaching this as agressively as possible without going into an open ended program and taking a FEMLA absence from my job.
Not to be a total bummer, I have to say I had a great experience with the sleeve. Too good. I'm glad that I'd be willing to do it all over again and again, but that's a good thing. Because now I DO have to start all over. All over to rebuild a healthy relationship with food that I missed out on last time.
Wish me luck and I thank all of you for your support this year. I don't know what I would have done without this place to come to for guidance and to draw on the experiences of others.
I'll report back again with progress in any direction.

One year, 12/17/14. Lost 150 of 298 pounds in one year. 298 on left, 175 upper right, 148 lower right.

So I hit one year on last Wednesday, the 17th, and an only now bringing myself to do an update.
My surgery was a success! A major success! So much that I couldn't let go of that losing feeling. I kept telling myself that the 5-10 pound rebound (if there even is one) after one stops losing and then puts a couple on would stress me out less and be less "traumatic" is I lost just a little bit more. And that was it, I always felt I needed/wanted to lose a little more so that the rebound wouldn't hurt as much and I could.
It wasn't until I sailed long past my medical goal and my personal goal that I would see what I was doing. It wasn't until my partner told me that I looked sick and was no longer attractive or appealing on an intimate level, that I even began to think there was trouble brewing. People expressed concern at work. The people I supervise would ask vague questions to gauge when I would stop such as, "So how much more do you have to lose before your doctor's goal gets here?" My friends ignored and avoided the topic as it was easy to explain that my sense of hunger hadn't returned yet and I was struggling to get more in so I loaded up the lunch bag or ordered in for Breakfast and lunch so that people could see me eat. i carried around Protein Shakes that I'd pour into sink or toilet so I always had food on me. When they weren't looking I'd throw half or all the breakfast sandwich away and if I did eat 3/4th of one half of it, it sure as hell wasn't going to eat lunch that day so I began going "out" for lunch, but not eating.
It wasn't until my partner left me without even one bit of explanation that I took a good look at myself. I was dumped on the phone. Well, actually, my partner said "it's over" and hung up on me. I went to pack the contents of the drawer my partner kept in my home, something I had avoided doing for quite some time, and found that it was empty. Everything had been taken home the last time we saw each other. My partner saw it coming and uncereminiously dumped me because I was still so oblivious to my own role and in denial that walking away was the easier option than to continue to fight with me over the obvious. My partner knew that walking away from this issue was the only option.
My surgiversry was this past Wednesday, the 17th. I am the lowest weight I can remember as an adult. My previous memory of a low weight was 170. I'm 6' tall and currently weigh 148. I have a big frame and "carried my weight well" and look like a shadow of myself. I lost exactly 150 pounds in one year. I have lost over ONE HALF of my body weight. I am 8 pounds above being underweight, and, if I had plastics today, I bet those pounds would be gone too.
I NEVER thought this would be me.
I did it ALL right. I even read the emotional support handbook three times at different phases of my journey AND still highly recommended it to others (and still would). I'm a man and not the demographic for eating disorders at all, but I couldn't let go of the control and success. I had to keep going. Where I had man boobs I have protruding ribs. I have a flat chest for the first time in my life but my nipples hang low. For a while I looked GREAT in clothes for the SECOND time in my life, but now I look like shit naked or in clothes because you can always see my face. I look sick and I want to lose a few more still. When the number drops below me previous new low I get a rush of excitement.
That rush and exictement over a new low scares the hell out of me. I've cancelled my holiday trip home, told as many friends, family, and coworkers that I know will be around to support me no matter what, and I am spending Christmas in the hospital after being cleared for inpatient treatment of a eating disorder. I check in on Christmas Eve and I have 11 days off, until January 5th, to stay in the hospital. It's a short program designed to get a couple pounds on you, develop an outpatient plan, and get me a new psych and talk therapist. I'm presenting with a multiple diagnosis of various mental health concerns and am approaching this as agressively as possible without going into an open ended program and taking a FEMLA absence from my job.
Not to be a total bummer, I have to say I had a great experience with the sleeve. Too good. I'm glad that I'd be willing to do it all over again and again, but that's a good thing. Because now I DO have to start all over. All over to rebuild a healthy relationship with food that I missed out on last time.
Wish me luck and I thank all of you for your support this year. I don't know what I would have done without this place to come to for guidance and to draw on the experiences of others.
I'll report back again with progress in any direction.

You are such a mature and brave person. Honestly, it's so hard to look at yourself and realize when you can't fix everything on your own. What you're going through sounds like disordered eating like you said, but just remember that so many of us on this site have experienced disordered eating, albeit in the opposite direction. Having surgery doesn't change the way we think about food no matter how prepared we think we are, and it's going to be a journey for many years to come. You seem to have a really clear head about all of this, and I hope this program helps you heal a bit. I've done inpatient programs before and it can help to take some time out and focus on yourself. Good luck with everything, and let us know if you need help or support.

So I hit one year on last Wednesday, the 17th, and an only now bringing myself to do an update.
My surgery was a success! A major success! So much that I couldn't let go of that losing feeling. I kept telling myself that the 5-10 pound rebound (if there even is one) after one stops losing and then puts a couple on would stress me out less and be less "traumatic" is I lost just a little bit more. And that was it, I always felt I needed/wanted to lose a little more so that the rebound wouldn't hurt as much and I could.
It wasn't until I sailed long past my medical goal and my personal goal that I would see what I was doing. It wasn't until my partner told me that I looked sick and was no longer attractive or appealing on an intimate level, that I even began to think there was trouble brewing. People expressed concern at work. The people I supervise would ask vague questions to gauge when I would stop such as, "So how much more do you have to lose before your doctor's goal gets here?" My friends ignored and avoided the topic as it was easy to explain that my sense of hunger hadn't returned yet and I was struggling to get more in so I loaded up the lunch bag or ordered in for Breakfast and lunch so that people could see me eat. i carried around Protein Shakes that I'd pour into sink or toilet so I always had food on me. When they weren't looking I'd throw half or all the breakfast sandwich away and if I did eat 3/4th of one half of it, it sure as hell wasn't going to eat lunch that day so I began going "out" for lunch, but not eating.
It wasn't until my partner left me without even one bit of explanation that I took a good look at myself. I was dumped on the phone. Well, actually, my partner said "it's over" and hung up on me. I went to pack the contents of the drawer my partner kept in my home, something I had avoided doing for quite some time, and found that it was empty. Everything had been taken home the last time we saw each other. My partner saw it coming and uncereminiously dumped me because I was still so oblivious to my own role and in denial that walking away was the easier option than to continue to fight with me over the obvious. My partner knew that walking away from this issue was the only option.
My surgiversry was this past Wednesday, the 17th. I am the lowest weight I can remember as an adult. My previous memory of a low weight was 170. I'm 6' tall and currently weigh 148. I have a big frame and "carried my weight well" and look like a shadow of myself. I lost exactly 150 pounds in one year. I have lost over ONE HALF of my body weight. I am 8 pounds above being underweight, and, if I had plastics today, I bet those pounds would be gone too.
I NEVER thought this would be me.
I did it ALL right. I even read the emotional support handbook three times at different phases of my journey AND still highly recommended it to others (and still would). I'm a man and not the demographic for eating disorders at all, but I couldn't let go of the control and success. I had to keep going. Where I had man boobs I have protruding ribs. I have a flat chest for the first time in my life but my nipples hang low. For a while I looked GREAT in clothes for the SECOND time in my life, but now I look like shit naked or in clothes because you can always see my face. I look sick and I want to lose a few more still. When the number drops below me previous new low I get a rush of excitement.
That rush and exictement over a new low scares the hell out of me. I've cancelled my holiday trip home, told as many friends, family, and coworkers that I know will be around to support me no matter what, and I am spending Christmas in the hospital after being cleared for inpatient treatment of a eating disorder. I check in on Christmas Eve and I have 11 days off, until January 5th, to stay in the hospital. It's a short program designed to get a couple pounds on you, develop an outpatient plan, and get me a new psych and talk therapist. I'm presenting with a multiple diagnosis of various mental health concerns and am approaching this as agressively as possible without going into an open ended program and taking a FEMLA absence from my job.
Not to be a total bummer, I have to say I had a great experience with the sleeve. Too good. I'm glad that I'd be willing to do it all over again and again, but that's a good thing. Because now I DO have to start all over. All over to rebuild a healthy relationship with food that I missed out on last time.
Wish me luck and I thank all of you for your support this year. I don't know what I would have done without this place to come to for guidance and to draw on the experiences of others.
I'll report back again with progress in any direction.

Thanks Kathy. That was a very sweet and thoughtful response.

So I hit one year on last Wednesday, the 17th, and an only now bringing myself to do an update.
My surgery was a success! A major success! So much that I couldn't let go of that losing feeling. I kept telling myself that the 5-10 pound rebound (if there even is one) after one stops losing and then puts a couple on would stress me out less and be less "traumatic" is I lost just a little bit more. And that was it, I always felt I needed/wanted to lose a little more so that the rebound wouldn't hurt as much and I could.
It wasn't until I sailed long past my medical goal and my personal goal that I would see what I was doing. It wasn't until my partner told me that I looked sick and was no longer attractive or appealing on an intimate level, that I even began to think there was trouble brewing. People expressed concern at work. The people I supervise would ask vague questions to gauge when I would stop such as, "So how much more do you have to lose before your doctor's goal gets here?" My friends ignored and avoided the topic as it was easy to explain that my sense of hunger hadn't returned yet and I was struggling to get more in so I loaded up the lunch bag or ordered in for Breakfast and lunch so that people could see me eat. i carried around Protein Shakes that I'd pour into sink or toilet so I always had food on me. When they weren't looking I'd throw half or all the breakfast sandwich away and if I did eat 3/4th of one half of it, it sure as hell wasn't going to eat lunch that day so I began going "out" for lunch, but not eating.
It wasn't until my partner left me without even one bit of explanation that I took a good look at myself. I was dumped on the phone. Well, actually, my partner said "it's over" and hung up on me. I went to pack the contents of the drawer my partner kept in my home, something I had avoided doing for quite some time, and found that it was empty. Everything had been taken home the last time we saw each other. My partner saw it coming and uncereminiously dumped me because I was still so oblivious to my own role and in denial that walking away was the easier option than to continue to fight with me over the obvious. My partner knew that walking away from this issue was the only option.
My surgiversry was this past Wednesday, the 17th. I am the lowest weight I can remember as an adult. My previous memory of a low weight was 170. I'm 6' tall and currently weigh 148. I have a big frame and "carried my weight well" and look like a shadow of myself. I lost exactly 150 pounds in one year. I have lost over ONE HALF of my body weight. I am 8 pounds above being underweight, and, if I had plastics today, I bet those pounds would be gone too.
I NEVER thought this would be me.
I did it ALL right. I even read the emotional support handbook three times at different phases of my journey AND still highly recommended it to others (and still would). I'm a man and not the demographic for eating disorders at all, but I couldn't let go of the control and success. I had to keep going. Where I had man boobs I have protruding ribs. I have a flat chest for the first time in my life but my nipples hang low. For a while I looked GREAT in clothes for the SECOND time in my life, but now I look like shit naked or in clothes because you can always see my face. I look sick and I want to lose a few more still. When the number drops below me previous new low I get a rush of excitement.
That rush and exictement over a new low scares the hell out of me. I've cancelled my holiday trip home, told as many friends, family, and coworkers that I know will be around to support me no matter what, and I am spending Christmas in the hospital after being cleared for inpatient treatment of a eating disorder. I check in on Christmas Eve and I have 11 days off, until January 5th, to stay in the hospital. It's a short program designed to get a couple pounds on you, develop an outpatient plan, and get me a new psych and talk therapist. I'm presenting with a multiple diagnosis of various mental health concerns and am approaching this as agressively as possible without going into an open ended program and taking a FEMLA absence from my job.
Not to be a total bummer, I have to say I had a great experience with the sleeve. Too good. I'm glad that I'd be willing to do it all over again and again, but that's a good thing. Because now I DO have to start all over. All over to rebuild a healthy relationship with food that I missed out on last time.
Wish me luck and I thank all of you for your support this year. I don't know what I would have done without this place to come to for guidance and to draw on the experiences of others.
I'll report back again with progress in any direction.

So I hit one year on last Wednesday, the 17th, and an only now bringing myself to do an update.
My surgery was a success! A major success! So much that I couldn't let go of that losing feeling. I kept telling myself that the 5-10 pound rebound (if there even is one) after one stops losing and then puts a couple on would stress me out less and be less "traumatic" is I lost just a little bit more. And that was it, I always felt I needed/wanted to lose a little more so that the rebound wouldn't hurt as much and I could.
It wasn't until I sailed long past my medical goal and my personal goal that I would see what I was doing. It wasn't until my partner told me that I looked sick and was no longer attractive or appealing on an intimate level, that I even began to think there was trouble brewing. People expressed concern at work. The people I supervise would ask vague questions to gauge when I would stop such as, "So how much more do you have to lose before your doctor's goal gets here?" My friends ignored and avoided the topic as it was easy to explain that my sense of hunger hadn't returned yet and I was struggling to get more in so I loaded up the lunch bag or ordered in for Breakfast and lunch so that people could see me eat. i carried around Protein Shakes that I'd pour into sink or toilet so I always had food on me. When they weren't looking I'd throw half or all the breakfast sandwich away and if I did eat 3/4th of one half of it, it sure as hell wasn't going to eat lunch that day so I began going "out" for lunch, but not eating.
It wasn't until my partner left me without even one bit of explanation that I took a good look at myself. I was dumped on the phone. Well, actually, my partner said "it's over" and hung up on me. I went to pack the contents of the drawer my partner kept in my home, something I had avoided doing for quite some time, and found that it was empty. Everything had been taken home the last time we saw each other. My partner saw it coming and uncereminiously dumped me because I was still so oblivious to my own role and in denial that walking away was the easier option than to continue to fight with me over the obvious. My partner knew that walking away from this issue was the only option.
My surgiversry was this past Wednesday, the 17th. I am the lowest weight I can remember as an adult. My previous memory of a low weight was 170. I'm 6' tall and currently weigh 148. I have a big frame and "carried my weight well" and look like a shadow of myself. I lost exactly 150 pounds in one year. I have lost over ONE HALF of my body weight. I am 8 pounds above being underweight, and, if I had plastics today, I bet those pounds would be gone too.
I NEVER thought this would be me.
I did it ALL right. I even read the emotional support handbook three times at different phases of my journey AND still highly recommended it to others (and still would). I'm a man and not the demographic for eating disorders at all, but I couldn't let go of the control and success. I had to keep going. Where I had man boobs I have protruding ribs. I have a flat chest for the first time in my life but my nipples hang low. For a while I looked GREAT in clothes for the SECOND time in my life, but now I look like shit naked or in clothes because you can always see my face. I look sick and I want to lose a few more still. When the number drops below me previous new low I get a rush of excitement.
That rush and exictement over a new low scares the hell out of me. I've cancelled my holiday trip home, told as many friends, family, and coworkers that I know will be around to support me no matter what, and I am spending Christmas in the hospital after being cleared for inpatient treatment of a eating disorder. I check in on Christmas Eve and I have 11 days off, until January 5th, to stay in the hospital. It's a short program designed to get a couple pounds on you, develop an outpatient plan, and get me a new psych and talk therapist. I'm presenting with a multiple diagnosis of various mental health concerns and am approaching this as agressively as possible without going into an open ended program and taking a FEMLA absence from my job.
Not to be a total bummer, I have to say I had a great experience with the sleeve. Too good. I'm glad that I'd be willing to do it all over again and again, but that's a good thing. Because now I DO have to start all over. All over to rebuild a healthy relationship with food that I missed out on last time.
Wish me luck and I thank all of you for your support this year. I don't know what I would have done without this place to come to for guidance and to draw on the experiences of others.
I'll report back again with progress in any direction.

So I hit one year on last Wednesday, the 17th, and an only now bringing myself to do an update.
My surgery was a success! A major success! So much that I couldn't let go of that losing feeling. I kept telling myself that the 5-10 pound rebound (if there even is one) after one stops losing and then puts a couple on would stress me out less and be less "traumatic" is I lost just a little bit more. And that was it, I always felt I needed/wanted to lose a little more so that the rebound wouldn't hurt as much and I could.
It wasn't until I sailed long past my medical goal and my personal goal that I would see what I was doing. It wasn't until my partner told me that I looked sick and was no longer attractive or appealing on an intimate level, that I even began to think there was trouble brewing. People expressed concern at work. The people I supervise would ask vague questions to gauge when I would stop such as, "So how much more do you have to lose before your doctor's goal gets here?" My friends ignored and avoided the topic as it was easy to explain that my sense of hunger hadn't returned yet and I was struggling to get more in so I loaded up the lunch bag or ordered in for Breakfast and lunch so that people could see me eat. i carried around Protein Shakes that I'd pour into sink or toilet so I always had food on me. When they weren't looking I'd throw half or all the breakfast sandwich away and if I did eat 3/4th of one half of it, it sure as hell wasn't going to eat lunch that day so I began going "out" for lunch, but not eating.
It wasn't until my partner left me without even one bit of explanation that I took a good look at myself. I was dumped on the phone. Well, actually, my partner said "it's over" and hung up on me. I went to pack the contents of the drawer my partner kept in my home, something I had avoided doing for quite some time, and found that it was empty. Everything had been taken home the last time we saw each other. My partner saw it coming and uncereminiously dumped me because I was still so oblivious to my own role and in denial that walking away was the easier option than to continue to fight with me over the obvious. My partner knew that walking away from this issue was the only option.
My surgiversry was this past Wednesday, the 17th. I am the lowest weight I can remember as an adult. My previous memory of a low weight was 170. I'm 6' tall and currently weigh 148. I have a big frame and "carried my weight well" and look like a shadow of myself. I lost exactly 150 pounds in one year. I have lost over ONE HALF of my body weight. I am 8 pounds above being underweight, and, if I had plastics today, I bet those pounds would be gone too.
I NEVER thought this would be me.
I did it ALL right. I even read the emotional support handbook three times at different phases of my journey AND still highly recommended it to others (and still would). I'm a man and not the demographic for eating disorders at all, but I couldn't let go of the control and success. I had to keep going. Where I had man boobs I have protruding ribs. I have a flat chest for the first time in my life but my nipples hang low. For a while I looked GREAT in clothes for the SECOND time in my life, but now I look like shit naked or in clothes because you can always see my face. I look sick and I want to lose a few more still. When the number drops below me previous new low I get a rush of excitement.
That rush and exictement over a new low scares the hell out of me. I've cancelled my holiday trip home, told as many friends, family, and coworkers that I know will be around to support me no matter what, and I am spending Christmas in the hospital after being cleared for inpatient treatment of a eating disorder. I check in on Christmas Eve and I have 11 days off, until January 5th, to stay in the hospital. It's a short program designed to get a couple pounds on you, develop an outpatient plan, and get me a new psych and talk therapist. I'm presenting with a multiple diagnosis of various mental health concerns and am approaching this as agressively as possible without going into an open ended program and taking a FEMLA absence from my job.
Not to be a total bummer, I have to say I had a great experience with the sleeve. Too good. I'm glad that I'd be willing to do it all over again and again, but that's a good thing. Because now I DO have to start all over. All over to rebuild a healthy relationship with food that I missed out on last time.
Wish me luck and I thank all of you for your support this year. I don't know what I would have done without this place to come to for guidance and to draw on the experiences of others.
I'll report back again with progress in any direction.

Thanks Kathy. That was a very sweet and thoughtful response.

Thanks Kathy. That was a very sweet and thoughtful response.

You really need to work on your double entendres. Lol. Thanks, that actually really cheered me up! ROFL. ????

So I hit one year on last Wednesday, the 17th, and an only now bringing myself to do an update.
My surgery was a success! A major success! So much that I couldn't let go of that losing feeling. I kept telling myself that the 5-10 pound rebound (if there even is one) after one stops losing and then puts a couple on would stress me out less and be less "traumatic" is I lost just a little bit more. And that was it, I always felt I needed/wanted to lose a little more so that the rebound wouldn't hurt as much and I could.
It wasn't until I sailed long past my medical goal and my personal goal that I would see what I was doing. It wasn't until my partner told me that I looked sick and was no longer attractive or appealing on an intimate level, that I even began to think there was trouble brewing. People expressed concern at work. The people I supervise would ask vague questions to gauge when I would stop such as, "So how much more do you have to lose before your doctor's goal gets here?" My friends ignored and avoided the topic as it was easy to explain that my sense of hunger hadn't returned yet and I was struggling to get more in so I loaded up the lunch bag or ordered in for Breakfast and lunch so that people could see me eat. i carried around Protein Shakes that I'd pour into sink or toilet so I always had food on me. When they weren't looking I'd throw half or all the breakfast sandwich away and if I did eat 3/4th of one half of it, it sure as hell wasn't going to eat lunch that day so I began going "out" for lunch, but not eating.
It wasn't until my partner left me without even one bit of explanation that I took a good look at myself. I was dumped on the phone. Well, actually, my partner said "it's over" and hung up on me. I went to pack the contents of the drawer my partner kept in my home, something I had avoided doing for quite some time, and found that it was empty. Everything had been taken home the last time we saw each other. My partner saw it coming and uncereminiously dumped me because I was still so oblivious to my own role and in denial that walking away was the easier option than to continue to fight with me over the obvious. My partner knew that walking away from this issue was the only option.
My surgiversry was this past Wednesday, the 17th. I am the lowest weight I can remember as an adult. My previous memory of a low weight was 170. I'm 6' tall and currently weigh 148. I have a big frame and "carried my weight well" and look like a shadow of myself. I lost exactly 150 pounds in one year. I have lost over ONE HALF of my body weight. I am 8 pounds above being underweight, and, if I had plastics today, I bet those pounds would be gone too.
I NEVER thought this would be me.
I did it ALL right. I even read the emotional support handbook three times at different phases of my journey AND still highly recommended it to others (and still would). I'm a man and not the demographic for eating disorders at all, but I couldn't let go of the control and success. I had to keep going. Where I had man boobs I have protruding ribs. I have a flat chest for the first time in my life but my nipples hang low. For a while I looked GREAT in clothes for the SECOND time in my life, but now I look like shit naked or in clothes because you can always see my face. I look sick and I want to lose a few more still. When the number drops below me previous new low I get a rush of excitement.
That rush and exictement over a new low scares the hell out of me. I've cancelled my holiday trip home, told as many friends, family, and coworkers that I know will be around to support me no matter what, and I am spending Christmas in the hospital after being cleared for inpatient treatment of a eating disorder. I check in on Christmas Eve and I have 11 days off, until January 5th, to stay in the hospital. It's a short program designed to get a couple pounds on you, develop an outpatient plan, and get me a new psych and talk therapist. I'm presenting with a multiple diagnosis of various mental health concerns and am approaching this as agressively as possible without going into an open ended program and taking a FEMLA absence from my job.
Not to be a total bummer, I have to say I had a great experience with the sleeve. Too good. I'm glad that I'd be willing to do it all over again and again, but that's a good thing. Because now I DO have to start all over. All over to rebuild a healthy relationship with food that I missed out on last time.
Wish me luck and I thank all of you for your support this year. I don't know what I would have done without this place to come to for guidance and to draw on the experiences of others.
I'll report back again with progress in any direction.

Good luck!! Sending prays and good vibes your way

You really need to work on your double entendres. Lol. Thanks, that actually really cheered me up! ROFL. ????

Good luck! And good for you for getting help for yourself!! Takes a big man to do that!! Xo

You haven't pooped in 3 days and you're thrilled about it!