As many of you know I have been battling a lot of different ailments the past eight years. Three major surgeries, including a full hysterectomy, multiple lengthy hospital stays, all the crazy medical bills, a myraid of treatments that didn't work, and feeling like a guinea pig while multiple doctors tried to figure out what's wrong with me.
I am sad to say that they still don't really know what's wrong with me. I have psoriasis and Psoriatic Arthritis, fibromyalgia, cysts in my brain and on my spine, severe migraines, numerous allergies to medications that my body desperately needs but can't handle.
I still have the abdomen pain that started this whole ordeal back in 2012. How sad is that?
After my last hospital stay, where I spent Thanksgiving in 2017, I decided I was done. I still tried all the medications and treatments that the doctors recommended, but my heart wasn't in it. Why should it be? Nothing else had worked, so why would I think this would be any different?
Every month I gained weight. When I would talk to my various doctors they would all reply with pretty much the same answer: your medications could make you gain weight. Well, they did. A lot. When I started on my steriod injections I gained 50lbs almost instantly. I felt awful, and that led to stress eating, which is something I've battled my whole life.
Hi, I'm Christi and I'm a stress eater
I usually crave sweets, and when I'm really depressed it must be soft-serve ice cream, particularly a Heath Blizzard from Dairy Queen. Ask L how many times I begged him to pick one up for me when I couldn't get out of bed. Being the amazing husband that he is he would comply, though he knew deep down it wasn't helping me, but hurting me even more, but he wanted me happy.
During this journey, while going from appointment to appointment, taking medications and treatments, and fighting the negativity that was slamming me in every direction I slowly, day by day, started to hate myself. With every pound I gained, the more pain anchored my body, and I would just sit and beat myself up. I have always had a tendency to live in my head, and my once positive outlook began to become overcast with dark, menacing clouds that I'm sad to say have never went away.
I was angry that I had the hysterectomy, ending my dream of being able to have more kids, and that wasn't even the problem! Here it seemed like every friend was pregnant, having babies, and living the dream I had dreamed of for so long that had been taken away from me. I was happy for them but deep down inside it killed me, adding more fuel to the storm. It even got to the point that I couldn't get on any social media or even walk though a store where there was a baby section. I would literally lose it. I can only imagine what the security cameras at Target got on film on one instance, but I won't go there.
As the years have went on I have gotten better with the whole baby thing, though it still stings from time to time. I think it always will. I feel robbed and will feel that way until the day that I die. L never had the opportunity to be a real dad, and for that I am truly sorry, though he has always assured me that he already has two sons, and couldn't ask for anything more. We both agreed that we will now patiently wait for grandkids.
With everything weighing me down, I finally gave up. The anger I felt finally wore me down and even though everyone tells me I'm strong, I'll tell you I'm not. The weight finally won, and I waved the white flag. In 2018 I gave up on myself.
I stopped taking care of myself. I didn't care what I ate or how much did or did not sleep. I lived in XXXL t-shirts and oversized pajama pants. I stayed behind the cameras instead of in front of them the few times I ventured out of my house. The pain is still overwhelming and I gave up fighting it, but wallowed in it for days, letting it consume me. When we decided to sell Ember I put all my focus on fixing it up, and continued to put everything else ahead of me. When I wasn't working on the house I submersed myself in books. I've always been an avid reader, but it became a hunger, an obsession. I couldn't handle me or my world, so I had to get lost in someone else's. I craved those happily ever afters.
Moving twice, plus building a house, took its toll on me, and in December 2019 I made a vow that 2020 would be different. There were so many changes already taking place that I truly didn't feel like myself anyway, so why not make real change.
Well, 2020 was different alright, as we all well know, but I found myself delving deeper into myself, more than I ever had before. It's gotten to the point where I can't even look at myself in the mirror. It's hard for me to say anything positive about myself. I've pretty much given up on ever feeling like myself again. It's sad, but it's the truth. I've accepted that excruciating pain is now apart of me and though I still try to fight the pain, I am not fighting to get myself back. To sum it all up, I've lost Christi again.
This is not the first time I've lost Christi, but that's another story for another day. Today I am here to talk about my journey, and why today is so important.
In a few short hours I will be meeting with a new physician. Last week I hit a breaking point that I haven't hit in a long time. I realized I am tired of hiding. I am dying an excruciating death and it's all because for a time I truly gave up on living. I let the pain and my negativity win.
It was a conversation I had with L that hit me like a ton of bricks. He told me he hasn't had his wife since we were newlyweds, and he's right. I got sick and had my hysterectomy when we were married only six months. Right after was my mourning period that sadly lasted for years, a period that I pulled away from him, and then all my medical b.s.. He's right! I never had a chance to be the wife I know he deserves.
It's been seven years and even though I don't feel like I should fight, I HAVE to fight.
I did some research and found a doctor that is willing to help obese individuals lose weight and today is my first meeting with her. I did the required lab work last week and today we are going to get a plan together.
I'm nervous and excited at the same time.
I've hidden behind my weight for so long, treating it almost like a cocoon, a barrier that no one could penetrate, that is terrifying to put it all out there. Today I am choosing to get up. Today I am choosing to fight. I am going to put it all out there: the good, the bad, and the ugly. I hope one day my journey will be able to help someone else. If that's the case then it will all be worth it.
I have decided to document my journey, and all my rambling hot mess nonsense on my blog. I need an outlet. I have also made my @byebyecherrypie2020 Instagram page public, so you can follow along there as well.
If you've read this far, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have NO idea what your support means to me. I hate that I pretty much lost my 30's but I refuse to lose my 40's! 40's are the new 20's right??
OK, enough procrastinating! I need to get ready for my appointment. Here's to new beginnings!!
