About a year ago I re-joined Weight Watchers. Actually I think I just resumed meetings after having farted around for several months. It’s very easy to fart around on Weight Watchers, especially if you pay for a monthly pass and decide not to weigh in for weeks at a time. Weight Watchers will happily take your money whether you’re following the program or not, and for most of 2008 and 2009 I was not.
Then in mid-October of last year I had a dream that prompted me to turn things around. In the dream I was sitting in a brightly lit doctor’s office being told I’d been approved for bariatric surgery. That’s all I remember about the dream. That and the crushing disappointment I felt upon waking up in my own dark bedroom.
The thing is I didn’t even want bariatric surgery. I’d looked into the option in late 2008 and actually initiated the pre-approval stages of the process, but after a few months and a few bills from my doctor (because my insurance does not cover weight loss initiatives of any kind), I decided to scrap that plan. I’d just had knee surgery a few months before and wasn’t looking forward to going into the hospital again any time soon.
So I woke up and felt disappointed, not because I wasn’t getting the surgery but because I had lost that euphoric sense of relief and hope I’d gained from hearing my obesity would finally be addressed. Gone was the feeling of a huge albatross being flung away after so many years. The weight wasn’t going to come off in my dreams and it appeared as though it wasn’t going to come off in reality, either.
Thankfully I decided to tell that pessimistic little voice to piss off. A week and a half later I was back at my local Weight Watchers center because I wanted to feel that hope again. Surgery wasn’t my only option and in spite of so many false starts throughout the year, I did feel hope as I stepped on the scale again. I hadn’t weighed myself in eight weeks and was prepared for an introduction to my highest. weight. ever. And while I did hit that unpleasant milestone, I was only two pounds heavier than I was at my last weigh-in.
Getting started again was hard. It’s always hard to look at your problems and decide to deal with them. I take comfort in food. I eat my stress and my anxiety and I enjoy a very sedentary lifestyle. I hate being accountable for everything I eat and my body is no longer a vessel built for physical activity. I have arthritic knees, a sore back when I stand for more than five minutes and I can’t find a pair of jeans that fit to save my life.
But I do have the hope, and I’d take that over a good pair of jeans any day.