Lying in bed earlier, part wishing I could go back to sleep for another eight hours and part thinking I should haul my fat arse out of bed and get on with my day I fell into my usual narcissistic trap of looking at bits of my body to see how it has changed.
It still makes me squeal with excitement at being able to see and feel my hip bones, they're getting quite angular now and it has even crossed my mind that if I lose anymore flab off my belly I'll start being able to cut people with my hips. At the very least dole out some hefty bruises! I wish they were in a slightly more accessible place though so I could show people that I have jutty bits without having to flash my lady garden. Perhaps it's for the best that you take my word for it that they're there. Along with my much revered collarbone my hips are definitely one of my favourite post surgery bits.
Sadly the bits I don't like are still outweighing the bits I do. My legs are what can only be described as 'floopy', a gorgeous (!) cross between flabby and droopy; my bum is still massive and shows no signs of shrinking further and my arms are hideous, like something out of a horror film. It makes me want to have a massive rage for letting myself get so huge as now it means I'm left with enough spare skin to make a whole human being – and not a small Polly Pocket sized one at that.
All I can say is thank heavens for Gok Wan's Pull In Pants – my absolute saviours! Sure they're made from the same stuff as trampolines, stretch from my ribs all the way down to my knees, have a pee hole (ming!) and are the UNSEXIEST garment on the planet but they stop me from flobbing about all over the place which makes them my favourite item ever.
I wish I didn't have to have more surgery but really, for my own self esteem I know that I'll need to go under the knife and get myself put back together by a skilled plastic surgeon. I honestly think it would be different if I was married and already had a husband who could tell me he loved me regardless of the flabby bits but as I'm resolutely single I cannot imagine anyone finding my body attractive and in a peverse way I wouldn't WANT anyone too. I also just want to be 'normal' (I know, I know who can define normality) and won't feel like that until I have totally closed the door on who I used to be by having the spare flesh sliced off.
Several friends told me I was turning my back on myself by untagging hideous old 'fat' photos of me on Facebook. I felt that they didn't really understand but was also quite hurt – why should I have to carry around the emotional baggage of having been super morbidly obese when I've lost the physical baggage by losing the weight? Having plastics just feels like an extension of untagging myself in those photos. I'm not turning my back on my past, how can I when I will forever be left with the physical scars of the multiple surgeries and the mental and emotional scars of being treated like I wasn't human by those people who were so offended by MY weight.
I'm almost 28 and hand on heart can say that my entire life until now has been affected, ruled even, by my weight. It has stopped me from doing things that normal sized people wouldn't even think twice about. Well, no longer! I refuse to let my past history of being fat stand in my way of having a happy successful life doing whatever *I* want to do.