My doctors are scaring me

So, first of all, I want to get this out of the way: The apples and milk thing did not work for me.  I mean, it worked until noon and then I just had to have some real FOOD.  It did not help that the apples were these really grainy apples from The Evil Empire aka Walmart.  (Sorry, Walmart, but you’re evil.  Face it.  Deal with it.  Know thyself.)


Boycott the Evil Empire…

I boycott Walmart, but my awesome boyfriend does not.  And he did the shopping.  So, awful apples.  But one can’t just blame the apples for one’s own shortcomings.  I thought I would try again today (i.e. Wednesday).  However, so far, I woke up and ate some chocolate, so it is not going very well.

Maybe I will try for tomorrow?  Tomorrow never actually gets here.  <Insert boring philosophical discussion about that here.>


Time to appeal to the BUREAUCRACY for help…

So, I had been feeling so excruciatingly depressed lately — lately being about the past 8 months or so — that I decided maybe it was time to break down and apply for disability: something I have avoided in the past 25 years of my depression.  However, I can barely leave the house.  I can’t work.  There’s no money.  Things suck.  So, I applied.  After requesting a mountain of documentation to prove I am poor and then requesting the testimony of my physicians, the Powers that Be decided that I should NOT receive disability.  Something about my doctor saying my prognosis is “indefinite” rather than “permanent”.  I kid you not.

I tried to point out that depression is an illness that can never be classified as “permanent”.  I mean, you’d have to have a crystal ball.  They wanted more “evidence” from my doctors.


I wrote letters…

I always get sort of nervous and tongue-tied when I actually speak to my doctors, so instead, I wrote each of them a (long) letter explaining what happened and how I have been feeling over the past year (i.e. bad).

So far, I have had no response to my letters except yesterday, I got a phone call from the hospital.  About 18 months ago, I was put on a wait list for weight loss surgery.  Now, my name has magically floated to the top of the list and they want to see me in mid-January for a consultation.  I don’t know how I feel about that, but I agreed.

Now I wonder if my doctors read my letter and responded by somehow pressuring the weight loss surgery people to take me sooner.  It’s hard to say.  What about my disability payments, though?  I am frustrated.  I am astronomically broke.  I mean, I have $80 in my purse and no other money coming in in the foreseeable future.  People in my life take care of my basic needs for food and shelter.  And that is very kind, but it is also very frightening because you cannot count on kindness.  Kindness can reach a limit.  Kindness can end.  Kindness can die.

So I wanted a small income that I could count on.  And everything is so uncertain.  Christmas is coming and it is an unfortunate time of year to be broke.  Any time of year is an unfortunate time to be broke.  I feel frustrated.


Weight loss surgery… detach most of my stomach?  What could go wrong?

Another part of me wonders if the weight loss surgery could work.  I am fascinated and terrified by it.  Reminder: I am 450+ pounds.  What if I became a “normal” weight?  It would change my life.  Here are the things that frighten me about weight loss surgery in no particular order:

  1. A blood clot could go to my brain and I might end up a mentally challenged person.
  2. What if it doesn’t work?
  3. The process itself may be humiliating.
  4. I hate hospitals.
  5. I might get a hernia (I had one before and it is a possible complication of the surgery).
  6. I might lose my belly button — seriously — later on with plastic surgery.
  7. I might end up being like a bag of skin if I lose weight fast — then the plastic surgery would be expensive and possibly not covered.
  8. I might lose my nipples — later on with plastic surgery.
  9. I might still be depressed even if I am much thinner.
  10. I would feel stupid for not doing it sooner.

The things that excite me about it:

  1. If it works, it might alleviate some or most or even all of my depression.
  2. I could potentially do things I have always wanted to do like kayaking or scuba diving.
  3. I would probably have a lot more energy.
  4. It would give me a new lease on life — in a way it would give me a new life.
  5. I could enter my new career with a lot more strength and passion.


Dizzy dizzy dizzy…

I feel dizzy.  I don’t know if it is from thinking about this or just from eating too much chocolate.  It could be either.  My parents are very pro-surgery, but I worry.  I don’t know what is right.  I feel fearful.  My boyfriend says I should go into it with an open mind either way.



Anyhow, so that’s how things are with me at the moment.  I feel moderately depressed today.  It’s still a deep freeze outside.  I have not left the house since Friday and today is Wednesday.  I tutor and have a student tomorrow night.  I am already anxious about leaving the house to see her even though tutoring is easy for me and the library is very nearby.

Sorry that this was not a more positive, happy-shiny post.  I am giving you the honest goods here.  This is what it is like to be depressed.  My experience of it anyhow.  And some days, I have a sense of humour about it.  Other days, I really do not.  Today, I just feel sort of on edge.  Watching and waiting.  Like a ninja.  A fat, depressed ninja.


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