It's Me, Hi - I'm the Problem, It's Me

SW ⟫ CW ⟫ GW

207.7 ⟫ 186.9 ⟫ 186.93

Ozempic ⟫ 0.5 mg

Well, I’m a mess.

I had my pre-op assessment with the anaethetist yesterday and generally speaking, it went well. The journey wasn’t too awful – probably because the appointment was at 11 a.m. so we missed peak traffic times. I had height and weight measurements taken and was pleased that even wearing my boots I weighed less than a kilo more than my scales at home say. Which reassures me that they are correct and that I am on the right track. (Imagine if I was naked on them what I would weigh!)

Swabs in nose and groin (didn’t expect the second one) plus an ECG, bloods and blood pressure and we waited to meet the anaethetist. The nurse who did all of this asked if I had received my surgery date yet and I had to say no. We were asked about this three times all in all, with each person being surprised that we didn’t have that information yet.

The anaethetist was a nice guy, very clear in what he was explaining. He was impressed with my weight loss since I spoke to the surgeon and asked me questions about Ozempic with an open mind which I appreciated. He checked my blood sugars through my patient record at the surgery as apparently none of them had copied over to the hospital database, which was a little concerning, but he was more than happy with the results he got to look at. He asked if we had any questions, explained what medications I would have to stop before the surgery, how pain relief worked afterwards and everything – he was very efficient and friendly. So all systems go on that side.

I can’t help but feel that the reason we haven’t received my surgery date is that it is out of the scope of Violet’s influence. I know she has been pushing things for me which is why these appointments took place, but the fact that everyone seemed to think I should have received my surgery date by now was disconcerting and worrying. But again, nothing I can do about that but keep on doing what I’m doing – any weight I can lose between now and when I hear that date can only be for the good.

So why am I all the way fucked up? I had nightmares on Sunday night about Monday and no matter how much I told myself that it was just a meeting with some basic tests being undertaken, it plagued my dreams. Yesterday evening I went to sleep earlyish (for me) and proceeded to have literal fighting, screaming nightmares. Existential bullshit nightmares about wrong decisions I have made in my life and how it affects the people I care about. Fears about the surgery and how, with my luck, something may go wrong. Like, death or even worse (perhaps) something going awry and me being alive but unable to do anything for myself and becoming more of a burden than I already am. It was rough and I feel like such a dick because Stripes is the one who had to talk me down from the terrors and listen to me spewing out all of my fears and negativity when she has so much of her own stuff to deal with.

I feel like shit but I can’t seem to shake the darkness that is swallowing me up. It’s like a non-stop reel of negativity in my head and every single time I close my eyes, all I can see is all the things I have done wrong, the people I have hurt, the people who have hurt me. And I need it to stop because its driving me absolutely insane.

I thought I had learned a little about not eating my feelings but yesterday I ordered pizza, with doughballs and cookies from Domino’s. Even though I know what a bad decision it is whilst on Ozempic. Admittedly, I ate half of my pizza, about four doughballs and a cookie and that was pretty much all that I did eat. But how can I have learned nothing about what food like that does to me? About why I turn to food like that? How can I even contemplate weight loss surgery when something that went well sends me diving for the uber eats app and stuffing my face?

I ended up not going back to sleep because I couldn’t face the nightmares so here I am, on about four hours sleep, feeling like shit and wishing I could shut my brain down. Just for a little while. I know that half a pizza, doughballs and a cookie aren’t that bad – not that any food should be considered bad in and of itself – but I’m so disappointed in myself that I didn’t stop myself from doing what I usually do. And I wish it wasn’t affecting Stripes – it’s so not fair when she’s putting in the work to handle her own shit and having to shoulder mine as well.

I’ve booked myself in for my birthday tattoo this Thursday and paid the full amount so no matter how I’m feeling mentally, I have to go – I can’t afford to lose that money. And having written all of this down and done a book review, I’m going to try to get my head down. I’ve asked Stripes if I can look at the Mantra worksheets she has been using from her eating disorder meetings to see if they can help me. I know that they are difficult as they make you face things you may not be ready to face, but I need to put in the work so that when the surgery date does arrive, I am as ready and prepared as I can be.

And I admitted to myself that I haven’t been vaping my medicinal cannabis because I didn’t want to smell of weed and have the people at the hospital judge me for it. It’s stupid – it’s prescribed medicine, it helps me sleep and handle the pain in my knees, etc but I judged myself and doubted what I was doing and whether I should be doing it, and for the last week I haven’t used it at all. And maybe that has something to do with the night terrors/nightmares, especially how vivid they have been – I think I read somewhere that very lucid dreams can be a side-effect of coming off of cannabis so might need to do a little research into that. But it’s ridiculous and I need to get a grip.