madermouse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- June 14, 2001 Its been six months since I started my �change�. That�s not including the month I spent researching diets, reading nutritional books, and inquring about weight loss surgery. Nor the month I spent keeping a food journal. But it has been six months since I�ve been holding myself accountable for my actions, and watching my efforts come into fruition. Its amazing when you think about it. I�m so fucking grateful. Last year at this time, I was still trying to recover from a staphylococcus infection that threatened to consume my right foot and leg. I had just broken the same ankle twice in a year�s time. During my ordeal, I spent most of my time on the couch with an IV in one arm, and the remote control in the other. I stared blankly at the t.v. trying desperately to ignore the excruciating pain which was amplified by even the slightest movement. The ankle itself was the size of a plump grapefruit, and the staph infection caused my leg to double in size. The skin between my toes and knee had turned various shades of purple & red hot magenta, and was layered with pin sized blisters. You�d think this was the worst part, the pain. But the worst part was the fever. It raged up into the 104's hourly, until I was delirious. The chills were unbearable - bouts of spastic uncontrollable tremors that literally bounced me off the bed. My teeth chattered with enough force to pulverize glass. When the chills finally would subside, the fever returned with a vengeance until I�d pass out from exhaustion. This went on for weeks. Depression was my constant companion, my confidant. My husband was my only source of comfort, and he was wonderful. But he, too, was overburdened by attending to my needs, and working a full time job. Looking back, this was one of the lowest points in my life. I felt the isolation of being house bound. The pain of being unable to walk. The humiliation of being unable to perform the simplest of tasks by myself. I was completely defeated in every way. And I felt utterly alone. I remember thinking, �This is what its like to be too fat to leave the house.� This thought resounded in my mind, echoing off the walls of my consciousness. At that moment, I felt the reality of being 600, 700, 800lbs. I felt all the suffering of those people who are unable to leave their home, or their bed, or their chair, because the weight of them is simply greater than their body can take. It made an impression on me. I didn�t know it then, but it planted a seed - somewhere in the depths of my subconscious. Writing this, that feeling comes rushing back to me, full force. I feel like shuddering at the thought. My ultimate fear. Take the time to remember something that has happened to you in your past. Something that has helped you become the person you are today. Make yourself aware of this thing, and cup it in your mind�s eye - like a precious gem. Be thankful for that experience, no matter how painful. Relish the opportunity to learn another great lesson in the future. Be proud of who you are, and how far you�ve come. 12:21 p.m. - June 14, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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