Wednesday, April 28, 2010
I have a few times in my life, and most were related to my weight.
So it broke my heart this past week when I heard that a childhood friend’s mom had died.
I’m unclear on the exact details, but I’m told that she had had a lap band procedure done a while back to lose weight, and her stomach recently ruptured.
Some people will never understand that level of desperation, to have a procedure done to your body to help you lose weight. But I do.
A few years ago, an acquaintance told the story of her mother, who was too big to feel she could lose her weight on her own, but still too small to qualify for bariatric surgery.
So she ate and ate until she gained enough weight for the surgery.
She later died.
Some people will never understand that level of desperation. But I do.
I’ve considered asking a doctor for bariatric surgery several times in the past few years, but I never got up the courage to do it.
Back in high school, I remember standing in my kitchen after getting up to use the bathroom at like 2 in the morning.
I just stood there, in the dark, debating with myself about whether I was going to eat a cookie.
I bet I stood there a good 10 minutes, tears streaming down my face.
I was embarrassed at the power something as stupid as a cookie could have over me. Humiliated that I couldn’t just say no and get back in the bed.
And I remember in grade school, hitting my knees in prayer for God to somehow allow my jaw to be broken so my mouth would be wired shut.
My god. I was just a child. Praying for a broken jaw.
Sometimes, we get so desperate that we hope we no longer have a choice, because we feel we always make the wrong ones.
Whether it’s food or drugs or alcohol or any other demon, there are many of us walking around constantly fighting a battle.
You may not think anyone could ever understand what you’re going through.
But I do.