Neri

Ahhhh! Seeing all these sweet, beautiful babies makes me so jealous! I haven't had a dog in two years, and have been just itching to get one. Not sure if my kitty would like not being an only child though.

I haven't had my surgery yet, but I've decided to go with the sleeve. For me personally, I like the removal of part of the stomach and reduced ghrelin. Also, I like the idea that if later down the line I want to switch to the bypass, I can.

I haven't had my surgery yet, but I've decided to go with the sleeve. For me personally, I like the removal of part of the stomach and reduced ghrelin. Also, I like the idea that if later down the line I want to switch to the bypass, I can.

@Biggamehunter if you are expecting tea and sympathy from bariatric patients by refusing to believe a good percentage of the forum didn't need surgery you are the wrong place -
your struggle with your concern of your wife's appearance being a medical issue is overshadowed by your opinions that surgery wasn't necessary in her case when it was clearly her decision to make. Plus 250 is MORBIDLY OBESE, 200 is OBESE, 150 is normal.
Many of us have lost weight only to regain it right back because we have - metabolic issues, have been overweight for years, have food issues and consider this surgery as a tool to assist in all those things. It is never so simple as you make it seem - diet and exercise, no surgery.
Well it is a moot point, we have tried to get you to accept that and yet you refuse. Over and out

So I have good and bad news, bad news is I won’t be able to stay in the group with you guys and gals anymore. Good news, because my date was scheduled for August 29th, Doc moved my date up because I reached my pre-surgery weight loss goal. Y’all enjoy the group!

Good luck!

Good luck!

Of course! I'm here for you!

I'm sure it's rough, but I know you can do it! I can tell you're an incredibly strong person. And if you ever need anyone to talk to, you can always talk to me.

I'm sure it's rough, but I know you can do it! I can tell you're an incredibly strong person. And if you ever need anyone to talk to, you can always talk to me.

You said you weren’t happy that your wife went forward with this from the beginning. Is it possible that you are unconsciously looking for physical changes in your wife to support that feeling? Maybe even a “I-told-you-so” feeling because you’re not happy with her appearance now or maybe because she proceeded with her surgery despite your feelings?
I’ve come to accept what she has done… I don’t think you’ve accepted it at all. Why were you opposed to her decision to have this done in the first place? Is there something deep inside of you that resents her for having this surgery even though you were opposed to it? (I don’t know you, but some men have a problem with women making their own decisions, including decisions about their own bodies.)
She used to be… she is now… she is starting to look… She also looks like…. These sound like mourning words. You’re in mourning for the body your wife used to have.
I’m starting to worry… Starting? No, you're in full-blown worry mode, except it’s not really worry. I still think it’s mourning for what was.
I’m afraid I’ve lost my wife… Afraid? No, in your mind you’ve lost her. But have you lost her? Really? Your wife is happy. And the doctor’s office doesn’t seem worried.
His office pretty much ignores my concerns… Are you sure that they’re just disagreeing with you and not ignoring you?
This surgery killed my aunt…. WLS is not a murderer with a sawed-off shotgun. Your aunt had a rare and unfortunate complication. I hope you didn’t bring up your aunt's complication as one of the reasons for not wanting your wife to have her surgery. Or did you?
If I come across as terse, it’s only because men tend to understand things better when those things are presented bluntly or in black and white.
Lastly, it’s only been 10 months. Your wife's body is still trying to find a happy balance.
Has your sex life changed? Is that something you’re also unhappy about? (My husband has always enjoyed my big, soft body.)
Please do not interpret anything I’ve said above as lecturing or patronizing because that is not my intent. This is just my take on things from a woman's point of view. Not every woman's point of view. Just mine. We're not all the same, you know.
You sound like a loving and caring husband. No one here wants you to be unhappy, including me. Your wife, I’m sure, doesn’t want you to be unhappy. But guess what? It’s okay to be unhappy sometimes, except you need to figure out if your unhappiness and fears about your wife’s new body are rational or irrational. If they are irrational fears, and you still can’t come to terms with it all, maybe a therapist might help. Maybe joint therapy. And there is, of course, absolutely no shame in that. None.

@Biggamehunter Ok... let me put my 2 cents into this conversation. It sounds like you don't fully understand the human body and are tainted by something that happened 12 years ago.

Your wife has a stomach. And speaking from personal experience, yes, you can most certainly weight lift and body build with the bypass.

What I think you don't understand is that, fat isn't just on the outside, it's on the inside as well and Visceral fat, the fat on the inside, wraps around muscles, organs etc. Did your wife lose a little muscle mass? maybe. Did she loss all her muscle mass, hell no, she's lost the fat that made it APPEAR as if it was larger. As far as the wrestling... body mass and weight play MAJOR roles in hand to hand combat. She's more than likely not weaker, she's just working with a lot less mass and can't use that mass to overpower you like she used to do.

You are using a lot of "I feel" and other opinion statements... when talking about a medical professional. I'm curious what background you have that makes you believe you are smarter than a doctor. Not saying all doctors are super geniuses and they are all simply humans, but, by and large, they know their damn jobs better than those that aren't doctors.

It sounds like you need some therapy because it's pretty clear that the issues here are not with your wife or her surgery.

What happened to your Aunt sounds horrible, but, it is a VERY rare occurrence, as you were informed. But it's totally understandable why you'd have strong feelings about it, your reaction is justified, and you are allowed to have them, but that doesn't mean that what you are afraid of is happening or common. Just because you feel a certain way, doesn't mean that's what is actually going on. I hope you reach out for some counseling.

Did you have surgery yet? If you had surgery, and it was recent, don't worry about it. If it was 2-3 weeks ago, don't worry about it. In fact, don't worry about it at all. Your body will fluctuate up and down when you start making changes to your diet. Just stick to what you are supposed to be doing and don't stress about the weight, it's called Weight Loss Surgery, but really, it's all about the Fat Loss.

I'm hoping to be able to get my sleeve in November. My last check-in with my surgeon will be at the end of October, so it'll all depend on how soon insurance will get back to me.

I'm hoping to be able to get my sleeve in November. My last check-in with my surgeon will be at the end of October, so it'll all depend on how soon insurance will get back to me.

I never did say how old I was either, did I? I'm 26. But still, isn't it so nice to go into a facility that is so much more welcoming? It just feels safer. At least, to me it does anyway.

Thank you. I'm definitely going to be sticking around here, and staying with mental health services. Like you said, the mental part is instrumental to success!

I'm only halfway through the six months of visits I need before a request can even be sent to insurance, but I decided I wanted to tell my story so far anyway. I'll update here as things go on.

I just want to give a bit of a warning, however. For those of you with triggers, there is talk of mental health and suicide.

On with the show, I suppose.

I've been heavy since I was a little girl. Big boned, yes, but also more than my fair share of baby fat. But at the time, it was nothing too concerning. "It'll disappear when she gets older," people would tell my parents. If only that were true.
By the time I was about 12, that baby fat had turned into even more fat. My mom, who had also gotten heavy after the birth of my younger brother, decided it was time for a change. She and I started Atkins. But that didn't last long. Sure, we both lost a little, but a long stall coupled with cravings made us stop.
As a teenage girl, I became a lot more conscious about my weight. I started trying everything. Weight Watchers, counting calories, Atkins again, even starving myself. But nothing worked. I would lose a little, then regain it and more. It was rough being a 200+ lb girl, especially one that ended up gaining three big issues. The first issue was that I became a boredom eater. The second was that I had become a binge eater. This compared with the first was a problem meant when I got bored, I would binge. But there was yet another problem under all of this.
I wanted to die.
Failures in my weight and other unrelated areas of my life such as school, caused me to spiral into a deep depression. I slept most of the day and had almost no friends. Not even the voice in my head was a friend of mine. Whenever I started a binge, I would hear it.
"Yes. Eat, little piggy. You're so fat and ugly, and a failure. You deserve nothing, not even love. No one likes you, so just eat yourself to death."
I wanted to commit suicide not by any normal method, but by slowly destroying my body. Eating until I was so big I died of any number of issues. I knew a few people cared about me, my parents and at least one person at school. That was another reason for trying to die slowly. I wanted them to become so disgusted with me, that they wouldn't care if I died.
This carried on into my first two years of college. And then I had a psychological breakdown. I won't go into what happened, but I ended up seeing both a psychologist and a psychiatrist. Together we started to work through my issues, silencing the voice in my head, dealing with my depression, treating anxiety, getting me to be a functional part of society.
I was seeing an OBGYN during this time as well, and I was diagnosed with PCOS and the insulin resistance that came with it. That seemed to be a lot of the reason why I couldn't lose weight. But what was left for me to try? Another diet? I felt like nothing worked. I tried Nutrisystem, but the food was gross and I was unhappy. But due to the psychological help and a name to what's been plaguing my weight (and the love of my fiancee, who I met after receiving help), I no longer wanted to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to see 30. So two years ago I turned to weight loss surgery.
I planned to have the bypass done, but right off the bat, I wasn't too fond of my surgical team. I felt like a number to them. My surgeon I would only see for maybe a minute each appointment if I saw him at all. But still, I stuck with it until my sixth appointment got canceled. It was late December. He had gone on vacation. My PCP, who I had been able to see for some of the check-ins, had a full schedule so I couldn't see her. No one would do the check-in.
I had to start all over again.
It was at this point that my mom suggested I try Keto. It worked for my Uncle. It was working relatively well for her. I decided why not.
The reason why I shouldn't have was because I gained an obsession with numbers. In Keto (at least the way I understood it), the general maximum grams of carbs per day is 20. I felt guilty if I went over 5. In a sense, it worked. I lost about 30 pounds. But at this time, I also started to abuse laxatives because I wanted to keep seeing that number on the scale go down. Still, much like everything else I had tried before, I hit a stall then started to regain.
Frustrated, I gave up. I went back to my old ways, figuring that I had screwed my body up too badly to be recovered.
Then, three months and a change in insurance ago, I got curious. Would my new insurance cover bariatric surgery? I checked and saw that it would. That day, I made a decision. I would get on the path to surgery again. And this time, I would complete it no matter what. I found a new surgeon with a new group. It's one that actually specializes in obesity medicine. Half of my six appointments are actually with the surgeon, and he explains things in more detail than I got before. The other half is with a nutritionist who is actually knowledgeable about the dietary needs of bariatric patients.
I feel like a person, not a number.
I feel actually informed.
I feel more ready for this surgery.
In October, a week after I get married, I will be having my last check-in with my surgeon. Then everything will go to insurance.
I'm ready.

I'm only halfway through the six months of visits I need before a request can even be sent to insurance, but I decided I wanted to tell my story so far anyway. I'll update here as things go on.

I just want to give a bit of a warning, however. For those of you with triggers, there is talk of mental health and suicide.

On with the show, I suppose.

I've been heavy since I was a little girl. Big boned, yes, but also more than my fair share of baby fat. But at the time, it was nothing too concerning. "It'll disappear when she gets older," people would tell my parents. If only that were true.
By the time I was about 12, that baby fat had turned into even more fat. My mom, who had also gotten heavy after the birth of my younger brother, decided it was time for a change. She and I started Atkins. But that didn't last long. Sure, we both lost a little, but a long stall coupled with cravings made us stop.
As a teenage girl, I became a lot more conscious about my weight. I started trying everything. Weight Watchers, counting calories, Atkins again, even starving myself. But nothing worked. I would lose a little, then regain it and more. It was rough being a 200+ lb girl, especially one that ended up gaining three big issues. The first issue was that I became a boredom eater. The second was that I had become a binge eater. This compared with the first was a problem meant when I got bored, I would binge. But there was yet another problem under all of this.
I wanted to die.
Failures in my weight and other unrelated areas of my life such as school, caused me to spiral into a deep depression. I slept most of the day and had almost no friends. Not even the voice in my head was a friend of mine. Whenever I started a binge, I would hear it.
"Yes. Eat, little piggy. You're so fat and ugly, and a failure. You deserve nothing, not even love. No one likes you, so just eat yourself to death."
I wanted to commit suicide not by any normal method, but by slowly destroying my body. Eating until I was so big I died of any number of issues. I knew a few people cared about me, my parents and at least one person at school. That was another reason for trying to die slowly. I wanted them to become so disgusted with me, that they wouldn't care if I died.
This carried on into my first two years of college. And then I had a psychological breakdown. I won't go into what happened, but I ended up seeing both a psychologist and a psychiatrist. Together we started to work through my issues, silencing the voice in my head, dealing with my depression, treating anxiety, getting me to be a functional part of society.
I was seeing an OBGYN during this time as well, and I was diagnosed with PCOS and the insulin resistance that came with it. That seemed to be a lot of the reason why I couldn't lose weight. But what was left for me to try? Another diet? I felt like nothing worked. I tried Nutrisystem, but the food was gross and I was unhappy. But due to the psychological help and a name to what's been plaguing my weight (and the love of my fiancee, who I met after receiving help), I no longer wanted to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to see 30. So two years ago I turned to weight loss surgery.
I planned to have the bypass done, but right off the bat, I wasn't too fond of my surgical team. I felt like a number to them. My surgeon I would only see for maybe a minute each appointment if I saw him at all. But still, I stuck with it until my sixth appointment got canceled. It was late December. He had gone on vacation. My PCP, who I had been able to see for some of the check-ins, had a full schedule so I couldn't see her. No one would do the check-in.
I had to start all over again.
It was at this point that my mom suggested I try Keto. It worked for my Uncle. It was working relatively well for her. I decided why not.
The reason why I shouldn't have was because I gained an obsession with numbers. In Keto (at least the way I understood it), the general maximum grams of carbs per day is 20. I felt guilty if I went over 5. In a sense, it worked. I lost about 30 pounds. But at this time, I also started to abuse laxatives because I wanted to keep seeing that number on the scale go down. Still, much like everything else I had tried before, I hit a stall then started to regain.
Frustrated, I gave up. I went back to my old ways, figuring that I had screwed my body up too badly to be recovered.
Then, three months and a change in insurance ago, I got curious. Would my new insurance cover bariatric surgery? I checked and saw that it would. That day, I made a decision. I would get on the path to surgery again. And this time, I would complete it no matter what. I found a new surgeon with a new group. It's one that actually specializes in obesity medicine. Half of my six appointments are actually with the surgeon, and he explains things in more detail than I got before. The other half is with a nutritionist who is actually knowledgeable about the dietary needs of bariatric patients.
I feel like a person, not a number.
I feel actually informed.
I feel more ready for this surgery.
In October, a week after I get married, I will be having my last check-in with my surgeon. Then everything will go to insurance.
I'm ready.

I'm only halfway through the six months of visits I need before a request can even be sent to insurance, but I decided I wanted to tell my story so far anyway. I'll update here as things go on.

I just want to give a bit of a warning, however. For those of you with triggers, there is talk of mental health and suicide.

On with the show, I suppose.

I've been heavy since I was a little girl. Big boned, yes, but also more than my fair share of baby fat. But at the time, it was nothing too concerning. "It'll disappear when she gets older," people would tell my parents. If only that were true.
By the time I was about 12, that baby fat had turned into even more fat. My mom, who had also gotten heavy after the birth of my younger brother, decided it was time for a change. She and I started Atkins. But that didn't last long. Sure, we both lost a little, but a long stall coupled with cravings made us stop.
As a teenage girl, I became a lot more conscious about my weight. I started trying everything. Weight Watchers, counting calories, Atkins again, even starving myself. But nothing worked. I would lose a little, then regain it and more. It was rough being a 200+ lb girl, especially one that ended up gaining three big issues. The first issue was that I became a boredom eater. The second was that I had become a binge eater. This compared with the first was a problem meant when I got bored, I would binge. But there was yet another problem under all of this.
I wanted to die.
Failures in my weight and other unrelated areas of my life such as school, caused me to spiral into a deep depression. I slept most of the day and had almost no friends. Not even the voice in my head was a friend of mine. Whenever I started a binge, I would hear it.
"Yes. Eat, little piggy. You're so fat and ugly, and a failure. You deserve nothing, not even love. No one likes you, so just eat yourself to death."
I wanted to commit suicide not by any normal method, but by slowly destroying my body. Eating until I was so big I died of any number of issues. I knew a few people cared about me, my parents and at least one person at school. That was another reason for trying to die slowly. I wanted them to become so disgusted with me, that they wouldn't care if I died.
This carried on into my first two years of college. And then I had a psychological breakdown. I won't go into what happened, but I ended up seeing both a psychologist and a psychiatrist. Together we started to work through my issues, silencing the voice in my head, dealing with my depression, treating anxiety, getting me to be a functional part of society.
I was seeing an OBGYN during this time as well, and I was diagnosed with PCOS and the insulin resistance that came with it. That seemed to be a lot of the reason why I couldn't lose weight. But what was left for me to try? Another diet? I felt like nothing worked. I tried Nutrisystem, but the food was gross and I was unhappy. But due to the psychological help and a name to what's been plaguing my weight (and the love of my fiancee, who I met after receiving help), I no longer wanted to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to see 30. So two years ago I turned to weight loss surgery.
I planned to have the bypass done, but right off the bat, I wasn't too fond of my surgical team. I felt like a number to them. My surgeon I would only see for maybe a minute each appointment if I saw him at all. But still, I stuck with it until my sixth appointment got canceled. It was late December. He had gone on vacation. My PCP, who I had been able to see for some of the check-ins, had a full schedule so I couldn't see her. No one would do the check-in.
I had to start all over again.
It was at this point that my mom suggested I try Keto. It worked for my Uncle. It was working relatively well for her. I decided why not.
The reason why I shouldn't have was because I gained an obsession with numbers. In Keto (at least the way I understood it), the general maximum grams of carbs per day is 20. I felt guilty if I went over 5. In a sense, it worked. I lost about 30 pounds. But at this time, I also started to abuse laxatives because I wanted to keep seeing that number on the scale go down. Still, much like everything else I had tried before, I hit a stall then started to regain.
Frustrated, I gave up. I went back to my old ways, figuring that I had screwed my body up too badly to be recovered.
Then, three months and a change in insurance ago, I got curious. Would my new insurance cover bariatric surgery? I checked and saw that it would. That day, I made a decision. I would get on the path to surgery again. And this time, I would complete it no matter what. I found a new surgeon with a new group. It's one that actually specializes in obesity medicine. Half of my six appointments are actually with the surgeon, and he explains things in more detail than I got before. The other half is with a nutritionist who is actually knowledgeable about the dietary needs of bariatric patients.
I feel like a person, not a number.
I feel actually informed.
I feel more ready for this surgery.
In October, a week after I get married, I will be having my last check-in with my surgeon. Then everything will go to insurance.
I'm ready.

Thanks for sharing your story, i hope you stick around and continue to work towards your all of your goals.
I also hope you (and everyone) will continue to seek mental health services throughout your journey because as you will read frequently, the mental part is very instrumental in overall success or struggles after surgery. Losing weight may just be one element in the compound of happiness.
Safe Journey!!!

I'm only halfway through the six months of visits I need before a request can even be sent to insurance, but I decided I wanted to tell my story so far anyway. I'll update here as things go on.

I just want to give a bit of a warning, however. For those of you with triggers, there is talk of mental health and suicide.

On with the show, I suppose.

I've been heavy since I was a little girl. Big boned, yes, but also more than my fair share of baby fat. But at the time, it was nothing too concerning. "It'll disappear when she gets older," people would tell my parents. If only that were true.
By the time I was about 12, that baby fat had turned into even more fat. My mom, who had also gotten heavy after the birth of my younger brother, decided it was time for a change. She and I started Atkins. But that didn't last long. Sure, we both lost a little, but a long stall coupled with cravings made us stop.
As a teenage girl, I became a lot more conscious about my weight. I started trying everything. Weight Watchers, counting calories, Atkins again, even starving myself. But nothing worked. I would lose a little, then regain it and more. It was rough being a 200+ lb girl, especially one that ended up gaining three big issues. The first issue was that I became a boredom eater. The second was that I had become a binge eater. This compared with the first was a problem meant when I got bored, I would binge. But there was yet another problem under all of this.
I wanted to die.
Failures in my weight and other unrelated areas of my life such as school, caused me to spiral into a deep depression. I slept most of the day and had almost no friends. Not even the voice in my head was a friend of mine. Whenever I started a binge, I would hear it.
"Yes. Eat, little piggy. You're so fat and ugly, and a failure. You deserve nothing, not even love. No one likes you, so just eat yourself to death."
I wanted to commit suicide not by any normal method, but by slowly destroying my body. Eating until I was so big I died of any number of issues. I knew a few people cared about me, my parents and at least one person at school. That was another reason for trying to die slowly. I wanted them to become so disgusted with me, that they wouldn't care if I died.
This carried on into my first two years of college. And then I had a psychological breakdown. I won't go into what happened, but I ended up seeing both a psychologist and a psychiatrist. Together we started to work through my issues, silencing the voice in my head, dealing with my depression, treating anxiety, getting me to be a functional part of society.
I was seeing an OBGYN during this time as well, and I was diagnosed with PCOS and the insulin resistance that came with it. That seemed to be a lot of the reason why I couldn't lose weight. But what was left for me to try? Another diet? I felt like nothing worked. I tried Nutrisystem, but the food was gross and I was unhappy. But due to the psychological help and a name to what's been plaguing my weight (and the love of my fiancee, who I met after receiving help), I no longer wanted to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to see 30. So two years ago I turned to weight loss surgery.
I planned to have the bypass done, but right off the bat, I wasn't too fond of my surgical team. I felt like a number to them. My surgeon I would only see for maybe a minute each appointment if I saw him at all. But still, I stuck with it until my sixth appointment got canceled. It was late December. He had gone on vacation. My PCP, who I had been able to see for some of the check-ins, had a full schedule so I couldn't see her. No one would do the check-in.
I had to start all over again.
It was at this point that my mom suggested I try Keto. It worked for my Uncle. It was working relatively well for her. I decided why not.
The reason why I shouldn't have was because I gained an obsession with numbers. In Keto (at least the way I understood it), the general maximum grams of carbs per day is 20. I felt guilty if I went over 5. In a sense, it worked. I lost about 30 pounds. But at this time, I also started to abuse laxatives because I wanted to keep seeing that number on the scale go down. Still, much like everything else I had tried before, I hit a stall then started to regain.
Frustrated, I gave up. I went back to my old ways, figuring that I had screwed my body up too badly to be recovered.
Then, three months and a change in insurance ago, I got curious. Would my new insurance cover bariatric surgery? I checked and saw that it would. That day, I made a decision. I would get on the path to surgery again. And this time, I would complete it no matter what. I found a new surgeon with a new group. It's one that actually specializes in obesity medicine. Half of my six appointments are actually with the surgeon, and he explains things in more detail than I got before. The other half is with a nutritionist who is actually knowledgeable about the dietary needs of bariatric patients.
I feel like a person, not a number.
I feel actually informed.
I feel more ready for this surgery.
In October, a week after I get married, I will be having my last check-in with my surgeon. Then everything will go to insurance.
I'm ready.

I'm only halfway through the six months of visits I need before a request can even be sent to insurance, but I decided I wanted to tell my story so far anyway. I'll update here as things go on.

I just want to give a bit of a warning, however. For those of you with triggers, there is talk of mental health and suicide.

On with the show, I suppose.

I've been heavy since I was a little girl. Big boned, yes, but also more than my fair share of baby fat. But at the time, it was nothing too concerning. "It'll disappear when she gets older," people would tell my parents. If only that were true.
By the time I was about 12, that baby fat had turned into even more fat. My mom, who had also gotten heavy after the birth of my younger brother, decided it was time for a change. She and I started Atkins. But that didn't last long. Sure, we both lost a little, but a long stall coupled with cravings made us stop.
As a teenage girl, I became a lot more conscious about my weight. I started trying everything. Weight Watchers, counting calories, Atkins again, even starving myself. But nothing worked. I would lose a little, then regain it and more. It was rough being a 200+ lb girl, especially one that ended up gaining three big issues. The first issue was that I became a boredom eater. The second was that I had become a binge eater. This compared with the first was a problem meant when I got bored, I would binge. But there was yet another problem under all of this.
I wanted to die.
Failures in my weight and other unrelated areas of my life such as school, caused me to spiral into a deep depression. I slept most of the day and had almost no friends. Not even the voice in my head was a friend of mine. Whenever I started a binge, I would hear it.
"Yes. Eat, little piggy. You're so fat and ugly, and a failure. You deserve nothing, not even love. No one likes you, so just eat yourself to death."
I wanted to commit suicide not by any normal method, but by slowly destroying my body. Eating until I was so big I died of any number of issues. I knew a few people cared about me, my parents and at least one person at school. That was another reason for trying to die slowly. I wanted them to become so disgusted with me, that they wouldn't care if I died.
This carried on into my first two years of college. And then I had a psychological breakdown. I won't go into what happened, but I ended up seeing both a psychologist and a psychiatrist. Together we started to work through my issues, silencing the voice in my head, dealing with my depression, treating anxiety, getting me to be a functional part of society.
I was seeing an OBGYN during this time as well, and I was diagnosed with PCOS and the insulin resistance that came with it. That seemed to be a lot of the reason why I couldn't lose weight. But what was left for me to try? Another diet? I felt like nothing worked. I tried Nutrisystem, but the food was gross and I was unhappy. But due to the psychological help and a name to what's been plaguing my weight (and the love of my fiancee, who I met after receiving help), I no longer wanted to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to see 30. So two years ago I turned to weight loss surgery.
I planned to have the bypass done, but right off the bat, I wasn't too fond of my surgical team. I felt like a number to them. My surgeon I would only see for maybe a minute each appointment if I saw him at all. But still, I stuck with it until my sixth appointment got canceled. It was late December. He had gone on vacation. My PCP, who I had been able to see for some of the check-ins, had a full schedule so I couldn't see her. No one would do the check-in.
I had to start all over again.
It was at this point that my mom suggested I try Keto. It worked for my Uncle. It was working relatively well for her. I decided why not.
The reason why I shouldn't have was because I gained an obsession with numbers. In Keto (at least the way I understood it), the general maximum grams of carbs per day is 20. I felt guilty if I went over 5. In a sense, it worked. I lost about 30 pounds. But at this time, I also started to abuse laxatives because I wanted to keep seeing that number on the scale go down. Still, much like everything else I had tried before, I hit a stall then started to regain.
Frustrated, I gave up. I went back to my old ways, figuring that I had screwed my body up too badly to be recovered.
Then, three months and a change in insurance ago, I got curious. Would my new insurance cover bariatric surgery? I checked and saw that it would. That day, I made a decision. I would get on the path to surgery again. And this time, I would complete it no matter what. I found a new surgeon with a new group. It's one that actually specializes in obesity medicine. Half of my six appointments are actually with the surgeon, and he explains things in more detail than I got before. The other half is with a nutritionist who is actually knowledgeable about the dietary needs of bariatric patients.
I feel like a person, not a number.
I feel actually informed.
I feel more ready for this surgery.
In October, a week after I get married, I will be having my last check-in with my surgeon. Then everything will go to insurance.
I'm ready.

1. Longevity
2. Health
3. Family
4. Looks
5. Mobility

The first three are really close together for me, so it was hard to choose the order. My main motivation for doing this was so I could live longer and healthier for my fiance. I feel like he deserves to have someone to live a long, healthy life with.

Congrats! You'll do great, I just know it.