It's a long way down to the place where we started from....

Four months post surgery and I have hit the halfway mark. I have lost 60 pounds since March 2. As seems to be the case for this journey, I find myself having a mix of emotions at this point.

My newest pet peeve is the commentary from everyone. Yesterday, I went to pick up prescriptions from the pharmacy and was handled by a clerk I have not seen in a while. She looked at me, blinked and said "Wow. You sure have lost a lot of weight. How did you do it?" I politely informed her that I had had weight loss surgery. She blurted out "I guess it really worked for you. Good for you for going ahead and getting it done." Instead of feeling flattered, I am extremely irritated by this woman and am going to be switching to a different pharmacy.

Library patrons tell me I look different and assume it's because my hair has gotten really long. At least, that's what they tell me.

Friends and family comment as well. Being told I'm no longer gigantic is such an ego boost. Also being told that I look good now does wonders.

Well meaning people telling me they can't believe I had the surgery, because I wasn't that fat. But they don't judge me for having it done.

The barbed compliments.

All this commentary does for me is piss me off.

I look good now. So, before March 2, I looked like shit?

I was close to 300 pounds. I was a morbidly obese mess. I qualified for surgery with flying colors. I had diabetes that teetered on the edge of being out of control. I had side effects from the out of control diabetes. I was injecting myself at least 4 times a day with insulin. Checking my blood sugar at least 6 times a day. I had quintuple chins. I was a large presence physically.

So, this commentary just reinforces for me that I looked horrible. That my size was the reason I could not get a date and the way a lot of people treated me. The looks I would get when shopping for clothes. That the pity I hope I was imagining in people's eyes wasn't imaginary.

I get that weight, dieting, exercise, weight loss, etc is a huge part of American culture. This country is fucking obsessed with appearance. It is not healthy. It is not good for people who are overweight and are struggling to lose 5 pounds to be bombarded by magazines touting fad diets, so and so who is now half their size, this celebrity who gave birth and is already back in a bikini when her child isn't even 2 months old. It wasn't good for me. It made me feel like a failure. Having resorted to surgery makes me feel like a failure on my darkest days. I can't win.

It makes me appreciate the people who don't want to talk about weight loss, diet and exercise all the more. There's so much more to people that their appearance. Losing this weight is making me realize just how shallow people are. How shallow people must think I am, because of how they insist on talking about weight loss with me.

The thing is, I'd rather I don't give a shit. 90% of my time is spent dedicated to navigating my life post surgery. Relearning how to eat. Figuring out what foods I can still tolerate. Figuring out what I can drink without gagging. Deciding if it's worth tempting fate to try to eat a home cooked meal or should I just stick with my tried and true 1/2 cup of refried beans instead. The misery of having just one bite too many. The heartburn that breaks through the prescription strength medication I take faithfully every day. The dread I feel when my mouth starts watering during a meal, because I know it's going to end with me vomiting.

So, the last thing I want 99% of the time is to talk dieting and weight loss. Or to go out to dinner. Or to leave the house a lot of the time, as I feel miserable. Or the annoyance that bubbles up when people try to relate to what I'm going through. Unless you have had your stomach reduced to a 4 ounce pouch, you have no clue. I appreciate the attempts at empathy, but in the long run, it just adds more rage.

Right now, as I write this, it feels like there is an elephant sitting on my chest because I took a gulp of diet sweet tea instead of a sip. I am uncomfortable and all I can do is ride it out.

But I am happy with the fact I'm halfway to my goal. I am glad that even though I have issues with vomiting, I had no extreme complications from the surgery. My hair loss seems to be slowing. Not having to be on mealtime insulin any more. Less prescriptions. Less doctor visits. My fingers are crossed that I can say good-bye to my CPAP soon.

However, since I have been down this weight loss road before and failed every damn time, I'm scared. Yes, I've lost 60 pounds. I've lost that much weight before and put it back on. I have met people who have had weight loss surgery and end up regaining every damn pound. I'm working so hard to not become one of those statistics. I'm glad for my involuntary bulimia, as it makes the temptation to eat food that I should't nonexistent. I just don't enjoy any food at all these days.

Yet, I am trying to enjoy the place where I am today. A healthier version of myself. I'm turning 37 next month and am looking forward to entering my 40s healthier than I ever was in my 20s and 30s, mentally and physically. Life just keeps getting better, as long as I don't focus on the weight loss/diet crap. Those precious moments when I don't have to are wonderful. I have high hopes that there will be more of them, sooner than later.