At 11 years old I was living with my mother and step father. My father was no where to be found. My step dad worked nights from about 3pm to midnight, leaving my mom with their 4 year old and a newborn. My mother, diagnosed only a few years ago, is bipolar. Two young children and a husband away in the evenings was too much for her to bear. But, at 11, after spending much of my time caring for their first child, I was well equipped. There were diapers to be changed, and dinners to be made, and someone to watch the kids while my mother needed "alone time", pursued a variety of different careers to keep her occupied and out of the house, or disappeared for days on end when life was too overwhelming. At that age, "normal" is whatever your life is. So, I did what I believed I was supposed to. But there was not much time to be a kid. No one to scream at to when my brother stuffed yet another box of crayons in the VCR or my sister decided to "puffy paint" the bathroom towels. No one to cry to when I was home taking care of two kids when everyone else was playing sports or meeting boys. So I ate. I used food to comfort me for the adult stressors I was incapable of handling at such a young age (and had been primed for over years before). Who do you cry to when your step dad says he needs to pick up your mom at the suicide clinic so make sure the kids get to bed on time? I became an expert at being capable. At being resilient. At relying on no one. But food. Food was my best friend and a constant. For years later during high school my parents would "scold" me for sitting on the couch to catch an hour of tv after working one of my two jobs (by 15), presumably because they noticed my growing waistline and assumed it to be lack of exercise (as a varsity gymnast holding down two jobs and "babysitting" every day you'd think they would have figured out it wasn't my ability to commit to hard work or the result of laziness). I left home at 17 and, by now the consummate overachiever, graduated with my bachelors at 20 and began a career I'm continuing 12 years later, becoming the youngest manger in my region, then the most quickly promoted sr manager, and so on. But always heavy. Always. The stress of two young kids was replaced by stress at work, the need to succeed, anger/grief/etc at my parents when I realized later how different my childhood was...but I never learned how to cope with thes emotions. Being dumped 5 weeks before your wedding, losing a best friend to sudden death at 28, funerals for 16 yr old cousins, and uncles who died too early, friends and family with brain cancer. I was ill-equipped to do anything but make it to therapy, and eat. So, at 32, I needed a catalyst. A push. A drastic change. Enter the sleeve. At nine weeks out my journey is an emotional one. One that I'm conquering. Slowly. But surely. With the guidance of a therpist who specializes in food and has picked up where other therapists began (but without the weight connection). It's not easy, and it's not about Protein or Water intake. It's about becoming more emotionally mature. And I'm committed. And I'm nothing if not resilient.

Jo - sleeved 5/21/12

Everyone has a story and, I'm curious, what's yours?

When I went to the first orientation the surgeon started the class with saying how we are all here because we have a disease with food and somebody who is caring this much weight has an underlining issue. He had some statistics and one that really made me think was 85% of women who are 100lbs or more over weight have suffered some form of abuse ( physical, sexual, emotional, and mental ). I then thought of the women who I know who are severely over weight and it applies to them. I have dealt with my issues of sexual abuse and I have decided that people have hurt me in the past and I refuse to allow anyone to hurt me now. I have forgiven my abuser and I told myself I will never forget what he did to me. Me being overweight and using food as a coping mechanism was a way to protected myself. The last part in my healing process is to shed the protective shield because I now have the skills to protect myself and I am no longer that helpless little girl I once was. Thank you everyone for sharing their stories. I wish everyone much luck in their successful journey!

For me is was more about neglect. I wasn't a boy so my father had no intrest in me. My Mom had her own issues and went through postpartum depression and never really bonded with me. Once my brother was born I became invisible. Unless my Dad needed a reason to take his frustrations out on something, and that something was me. My Aunts all had boys so our family events were all about the boys. I think the biggest impact for me was my father resenting me. If I showed any sign of happiness he made sure to take that joy away. It made him angry. My friends we always chased away because he would be mean to them. I was still thin until I hit about 12, then I got sick for about a year. That's when the weight really started to pile on because I did not move. No one believed I was sick, even with several trips to the doctor. I passed out at school and my Mom once again had to take time off of work to take me in the to doctors. At that point the did a blood test and decided that I had an infection, gave me a shot and sent me home. I spent the next few hours heaving my guts out. I woke up the next day crying because I was so sick. My Dad yelled at me for being a baby and my parents left me alone to do Boy Scout stuff with my brother. By the time they came back my entire face was swollen, they got into an argument on who had to take me to the hospital. My Mom lost. I was admitted with a severe sinus infection and so sever the infection was making my blood toxic. As the nurse took my vitals, all my Mom did was complain about missing work and lectured me on my weight. If I wasn't fat this would not have happend. That event basically set the tone for many years of my life. As long as I was fat, they would make sure I would never be happy. The more my parents harped on me, the more weight I gained. My father felt that shame was the only way I would change, and he encouraged other family members to treat me the same. I had zero self esteem.

But here is the good stuff. I survived. I became a strong person. I have survived so much crap. Every time I get knocked down I get right back up. I am not where I wanted to be in my career but I am far more successful then I ever thought I would be. I am well liked by my colleagues. I learned that I have value in this world. Yes I struggle with my weight, but that does not make me a bad person. What the future holds for me, I have no idea. But I spent far too much of my life letting people dictate how I should look and how I should feel. It is sad that my parents did not see me for who I was, but that is their problem. It took me years but I finally got it. So now I choose to open another chapter in my life. I want to be the person on the outside that I am on the inside.

So that's how my story begins.........I get to choose the ending.

My details are here:

http://johnswlsjourney.blogspot.com/2012/09/my-history.html

I'm pinging this so I can reply after work...

347*294/284/135 (*347HW/294SSW) | (twitter) @Mwrarr | mwrarr.wordpress.com

I've actually been small and petitie my whole life until 2003 after the birth of my daughter when I got on birth (Depo). I blew up. I started the process of yoyo dieting and started packing on more weight. I had my second child in 2010 and was never able to lose weight regardless of diet or exercise

At 11 years old I was living with my mother and step father. My father was no where to be found. My step dad worked nights from about 3pm to midnight' date=' leaving my mom with their 4 year old and a newborn. My mother, diagnosed only a few years ago, is bipolar. Two young children and a husband away in the evenings was too much for her to bear. But, at 11, after spending much of my time caring for their first child, I was well equipped. There were diapers to be changed, and dinners to be made, and someone to watch the kids while my mother needed "alone time", pursued a variety of different careers to keep her occupied and out of the house, or disappeared for days on end when life was too overwhelming. At that age, "normal" is whatever your life is. So, I did what I believed I was supposed to. But there was not much time to be a kid. No one to scream at to when my brother stuffed yet another box of crayons in the VCR or my sister decided to "puffy paint" the bathroom towels. No one to cry to when I was home taking care of two kids when everyone else was playing sports or meeting boys. So I ate. I used food to comfort me for the adult stressors I was incapable of handling at such a young age (and had been primed for over years before). Who do you cry to when your step dad says he needs to pick up your mom at the suicide clinic so make sure the kids get to bed on time? I became an expert at being capable. At being resilient. At relying on no one. But food. Food was my best friend and a constant. For years later during high school my parents would "scold" me for sitting on the couch to catch an hour of tv after working one of my two jobs (by 15), presumably because they noticed my growing waistline and assumed it to be lack of exercise (as a varsity gymnast holding down two jobs and "babysitting" every day you'd think they would have figured out it wasn't my ability to commit to hard work or the result of laziness). I left home at 17 and, by now the consummate overachiever, graduated with my bachelors at 20 and began a career I'm continuing 12 years later, becoming the youngest manger in my region, then the most quickly promoted sr manager, and so on. But always heavy. Always. The stress of two young kids was replaced by stress at work, the need to succeed, anger/grief/etc at my parents when I realized later how different my childhood was...but I never learned how to cope with thes emotions. Being dumped 5 weeks before your wedding, losing a best friend to sudden death at 28, funerals for 16 yr old cousins, and uncles who died too early, friends and family with brain cancer. I was ill-equipped to do anything but make it to therapy, and eat. So, at 32, I needed a catalyst. A push. A drastic change. Enter the sleeve. At nine weeks out my journey is an emotional one. One that I'm conquering. Slowly. But surely. With the guidance of a therpist who specializes in food and has picked up where other therapists began (but without the weight connection). It's not easy, and it's not about Protein or Water intake. It's about becoming more emotionally mature. And I'm committed. And I'm nothing if not resilient.

Jo - sleeved 5/21/12

Everyone has a story and, I'm curious, what's yours?[/quote']

My family never really stressed the importance of physical activity and they would just feed me what they could afford so I didnt really know any better until I became an adult. But now I have the power to.change and be healthier:)

I'm fat simply bc I love food. I had a good childhood and an ok life... my parents where fat and.bought yummy food so I ate it. I got pregnant at 17 and I think after the baby I never stopped eating for 2.. the. I had another baby so I was still eating like I had 2... which turned into 3... and then preggo again... you get the point Haha. I just love food.. the smell.. the taste.. if celery tasted like doritoes... ide eat celery

I've actually been small and petitie my whole life until 2003 after the birth of my daughter when I got on birth (Depo). I blew up. I started the process of yoyo dieting and started packing on more weight. I had my second child in 2010 and was never able to lose weight regardless of diet or exercise

Kids are the worst, aren't they? LOL

I was very petite until I became pregnant at 19. I had a second daughter 17 months later without losing the baby weight. I weighed 176 when I got pregnant with my 3 child. I suffered from Dilated Cardiomyopathy after I had him and was unable to exercise or even climb stairs for 1 1/2 years. My weight climbed to 228. I am now 121. I love my sleeve.

I can't point to any one specific incident to blame my obesity issue on, but have been overweight, unhappy and with a low self-esteem as long as I can remember. I always equated being a healthy weight would solve these issues. Decades of dieting did not solve any of those issues. So i said enough is enough and decided to research weight loss surgery.

It is one of the best decisions I have made ( first is getting married to my beautiful wife). Now I have a much better self esteem and am not constantly depressed. I feel great physically and mentally. I do not think that losing scale weight is the only reason;rather, it is being free from the wicked grasp that food had on me. And loving life really for the first time.

Reading all your stories has inspired me to share mine. I was molested at the age of 13 by my next door neighbor, though at this time I was not overweight, I was not skinny either, I was chunky. Both of my parents were morbidly obese and I think you learn your eating habits from the people you grow up around. But after I was molested I lost myself for a long time. I turned to food for comfort when I had no one else to turn too. It wasn't until I got the help that I needed that for the molestation that I realized how far gone I was. At age 23 I weighed 433.3 pounds. That was just 4 months ago. I decided enough was enough and I needed to change. My aunt has the sleeve and lost 90 pounds the first year. I have a husband and want to have kids one day so I made the decision to save my own life. I had the sleeve Oct 2 and weighed in at 359.4 yesterday it is far from my goal but I am closer then when I started. And I'm only going down from here!!

I'm curious as too what you all do now when you are Happy, Sad, Bored etc instead of eating...?

It took me a long time to realize and actually admit to myself that any emotional issues or problems I've had we're the cause of my obesity. I spent SO many years of my life in denial. Recently I've been able to admit that it wasn't just because food tasted good or I liked to eat, it was because of other issues. I grew up poor, lots of issues at home. With out going too deep there were drugs in the house, fighting- thing I was exposed to at a young age that made me have to grow up too fast. Looking back now I think food was the comfort I turned to starting at such a young age. I've been overweight since I was about 7. Growing up was rough, I got made fun of so caused me to eat more and more for comfort and I was over 300lbs in middle school.

Food was the best and worst thing that happened to me and I want to be able to cope and experience my feelings- good or bad- and not have them be effected by food. For people who are food addicts even with this surgery every day is a challenge but we CAN break the cycle!

Anyway thanks for letting me share this very personal story. Hugs to all of you who have struggled!