January 18, 2013

Today is my birthday.  I kept thinking, next year is going to be different.

I haven't let myself be in any pictures in a long time, but I let it happen tonight.  I'm going to have something to compare a year from now.

It was only my parents, sister and her fiance at my dinner.  I've really lost contact/pushed people away as I've gained this final weight.  I don't want people to see me.  I don't think it's that they would judge me or like me any less... but the way I feel, and the way I feel about the way I look, has really had an effect on the way I deal with the world.  My world.  I've checked out.  I've isolated myself.

Tonight my sister wore a cute outfit and did her hair and makeup.  She made an effort.  She makes an effort every day.  I contemplated getting up from my evening nap to take a shower, decided against it, put on the jeans and hoodie that I've worn every day for the the last year and fell into the car.  I stopped bothering or making an effort a while ago.

That's why I can't let myself think for one possible second that I'm not getting this surgery.  Yes, it's scary.  But it's scary because I'm going to have a new life.  This sick, unhappy person that I am now, is going to change.  And that's scary, because I have been this person for so long and I'm used to her.

I know I'm not magically going to be an extrovert throwing myself huge parties when I weigh less.  I'm never going to be that girl and I don't think I'll want to be.  I know I'm not going to magically be happy.  But I am going to change direction from where I'm headed if I don't get the surgery.  Without surgery, I'm headed nowhere good.  With surgery, I will have possibility and no excuses.