When our daughter was young, we began to notice a pattern where she would completely ignore warnings that something was amiss, and then be utterly shocked when everything went wrong.

[Note: She will be positively mortified that I'm telling you this, but it's important, and SOMEONE has to learn from her mistakes. Remember, daughter, your mama loves you ]

Okay, anyway…That’s when I coined the phrase “THE PLANE IS CRASHING SYNDROME.” For example, she would not turn in her homework assignments. Ever. And then she’d be shocked by her low grade. Or, she’d mistreat a friend for a really long time, and then be surprised when that friend told her off.

Hannah would say, “I can’t believe how low my grade is! I really thought I was going to get a C or a B…” and the teacher’s comment on the report card would say, “missing homework assignments.”

So, we’d say, “Hannah, why didn’t you turn in your homework assignments?” She’d give all sorts of answers, like: “I forgot.” or “I thought I did.” or (my personal favorite): “I DID TURN THEM IN!” Uh-huh. Right. The teacher just lost them. ALL of them. Or, with the friend who suddenly decided she was finished with the abuse (typically, this would happen on a camping trip or at a birthday party — you know, someplace super-appropriate for a meltdown.) Hannah never ceased to be caught COMPLETELY OFF-GUARD (after all, the revelation had came out of NOWHERE!)

MexiKen and I caught onto the pattern pretty quickly and we began to have conversations that sounded like this:

Me: “Hannah. You aren’t turning in your homework assignments and your grade is going to b WAY lower than you expected.”

Hannah: “Mom, don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered. It’s fine.” (Insert eye-rolling and exasperated sighs here.)

Me: “Hannah. It is NOT fine. You do NOT have it covered. THE PLANE IS CRASHING. The cockpit warn sirens are sounding, every light on the instrumentation panel is on, you are in a nosedive, there is smoke in the cabin, and the engine fell off the wing. THINGS ARE NOT FINE.”

Hannah: “Yes they are fine. Life is good. Stop worrying about stuff…”

And then…the plane would crash and Hannah would get a horrible grade and she would come to us (disconsolate as ever): “I cannot believe I got an F! How did this happen? I NEVER SAW IT COMING.“

On the inside, I was screaming:

“YES!YouDidSeeItComingBecauseITOLDYouItWasComing!

Okay, I can already hear you grousing and feeling sorry for my child. It’s true: I am not an easy parent, but either she’s an underachiever or I’m an overdemander….

Anyway, on the outside, the conversation sounded like this:

Me: “Hannah. The plane crashed. I warned you that it was crashing. I warned you to put out the fires and take it off autopilot. I told you to grab the stick and pull UP.”

Hannah: “Yeah…I know…”

And the next day, she would *forget* to turn her homework in, and her plane would be in a fresh new nosedive.

• She got a speeding ticket that she didn’t pay: “Hannah. You MUST go to traffic school for this or it will go to warrant.” (The plane is crashing .)
• She got several parking tickets at school that she didn’t pay: “Hannah, if you KNOW that there is no parking there, why do you keep parking there and when are you going to pay the tickets, because they DOUBLE if you don’t pay them right away?” (The plane is crashing).

Guess what? Her tickets doubled…and her ticket got her in A HEAP OF TROUBLE (and cost a fortune) and…well…THE PLANE CRASHED.
Guess what else? Hannah was COMPLETELY SHOCKED.

MexiKen and I are secretly hoping that this recent scare has at least caused her to consider evasive maneuvers when her plane is crashing…but we aren’t sure. Yet. Ahhh, a parent’s work is never done…

Okay, so Hannah aside, how does this relate to the Bariatric After Life™? (Long row to hoe, wouldn’t you agree??)

Well. that’s simple, really: THE PLANE IS CRASHING SYNDROME happens when you start to regain weight, but do nothing about it. You ignore it and hope it will go away. (The plane is crashing). You stay away from the scale because you don’t want to know what it says. (The plane is crashing). You can’t fit into your clothes anymore because they are now too tight. (The plane is crashing.) You stop working out and measuring your food. You stop journaling and getting support from others.

YOUR.
PLANE.
IS.
CRASHING.

And one day…you wake up (20? 30? 40? 50 pounds later…?) and exclaim: OH MY GOD! I AM FAT! I HAVE REGAINED MY WEIGHT! WHY DIDN’T I SEE THIS COMING?!”

And that, my friends, is The Plane is Crashing Syndrome — in action.

SO, here are my (loaded) questions of the day:

• Is your plane crashing?
• Are you ignoring ALL of the warning signs?
• Do you see smoke?
• Are the sirens blaring?
• Are you feeling sluggish and yucky?
• Do you feel out of control?
• Are you still on auto-pilot?

If the answer is “yes,” (to any of the above) – take evasive action NOW and do NOT attempt a water landing. We all know how those usually turn out, and it’s not pretty.

Grab hold of the stick and pull back with all your might. [Okay, okay, you pilots out there will tell me that if you are in a death dive, you're supposed to either let go of the stick, or push it far forward, or something like that, but just work with me here. It's my analogy, and I'm going to fly my plane the way *I* want to ]

Has your oxygen mask dropped from the ceiling? Put it on.
Are you using your seat cushion as a flotation device? Grab it and hold on for dear life.
Is your life vest on (but not inflated until you leave the plane)? Be prepared to yank on that cord if necessary. Locate your nearest emergency exit, then remember that your life vest is equipped with a lighted beacon so that if…heaven forbid — your plane does make an unplanned water landing, those of us in the bariatric community WILL be able to find you and help get you to dry land.

You will survive this. I promise. As long as you pay attention.

Is your Bariatric After Life on course or do you need a little intervention from air traffic control? Let me know…

This originally appeared one year ago on GastricBypassBarbie.com.
I love going back and rereading some of my archives…just to see if I still feel the same way today. HINT: I DO!

Walking, Breathing, Climbing Stairs, and Eating


Sometimes, as I’m going about my day, something ordinary will happen, and I will see it through extraordinary eyes.

Today is no exception.

I was walking to my car and, as I stepped down the curb to enter the parking lot, I caught myself worrying that I might fall. When I didn’t fall, I wondered in amazement how it is that I manage to ambulate every day — up and down curbs, through parking lots, to the store — WITHOUT EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT. See, that’s the key to this little ordinary moment. I walk without thinking about it.

Okay, it’s true: Every once in awhile, I will trip (usually, it is over an imaginary speed bump in the carpet, but sometimes, there really is a crack or a rock or a tree root.) If it’s a really bad day, I will actually fall. Of course, before I land, I am already panicking about hitting the ground (which is the wrong thing to do), so it usually hurts more, because I have tensed up (I overthought it). The best falls are the ones that happen before I know it’s happening – LOL.

So, when that happens, do I just lay there and never ever get up again because I am convinced that I am not able to walk? No, I pick myself up (or accept a hand-up, if someone is around to see my clumsiness), dust myself off, and carry on. That’s how it works: I walk, I trip, I fall, I get up, then I walk some more — just a bit more carefully this time.

And then there are stairs. Now, stairs are a little more challenging for me, because stairs and I have a very bad history. I have fallen down more flights and steps than I care to remember. Fortunately that doesn’t keep me from climbing up and down them, now, I just don’t do it as frequently as I “walk.” That means I am “not as good at navigating stairs, as I am at walking.”

Now, if you talk to MexiKen about this, he will tell you that I’m not especially good at either thing, but I contend that I have improved since shedding over 160 pounds, so that is a major victory, but I digress.

Even though I may not navigate stairs that often, I usually do okay. That is, until I stop to think about each step. Then my rhythm gets all funky and I trip or miss the stair or something. (Thank goodness for handrails, that’s all I can say.) In the past, I avoided stairs, pretty much at all costs, but not anymore. Now I kinda view them as a challenge that I usually win.

Same with walking. I used to hate walking (in all forms, including, but not limited to: strolling, hiking, jogging or striding.) Not anymore. Now I actually relish the idea of taking a long walk on the beach or up a steep hill or something.

Okay, so what do walking and stair climbing have to do with the Bariatric After Life™? Well. I’m glad you asked and am thankful you have stuck with me this long.

Walking is something we do without thinking (unless we have extenuating circumstances). It’s like breathing. We don’t think about breathing, yet we do it. When we choke on something, we don’t just “stop breathing.” We clear the airway and keep breathing! Same with walking: If we trip, stumble or fall, we don’t stop walking forever; we get up and keep walking.So, I look at breathing and walking like I do eating properly and making smart food choices (ahhh, there’s the connection).

With eating, I have learned that if I think about it TOO much, I “stumble,” but if I do what I “know,” I am more successful. Now, I’m not advocating that you NOT think about what you are going to eat, anymore than I would suggest you go walking without a purpose, destination or direction (that would be like meandering…or grazing!)

What I’m saying is, I think there is a way to move the concept of healthy eating in the Bariatric After Life into the “involuntary” part of the brain, right alongside walking and breathing!

And what about those stairs? Well, in my case, since they are a bit challenging, I look at stairs like I do eating at a party or a restaurant — in other words, something I don’t do *as often* as walking, but something I need to be good at, in order to “get where I need to be.” So, stairs require a bit more thought — but not OVER-thought, or I will stumble and fall out of rhythm.

For example: When I see stairs, I do a quick assessment: How many flights are there? What shoes am I wearing? How much time do I have to get to my destination?

Same with eating “out.” Where are we going? What’s on the menu? What will I order? How much time will I have after we are seated? Once I get there, it’s time to move into the involuntary mode, so I’m not preoccupied with overthinking the process.

Since I walk, breathe and even climb stairs without THINKING about it, I believe that becoming a confident healthy eater can be handled the same way! When I occasionally trip, fall, or choke, I simply pick myself up, dust myself off, and take the next best step (or bite). Hey, everyone makes “missteps” in the Bariatric After Life. It’s what you do next that matters most.

Gosh! I got all of this from not tripping when I stepped off the curb in high heels. Imagine how profound I am when I tie my shoes (and don’t pass out from lack of oxygen.)

Does this make sense? It’s okay if it doesn’t, but to me, the parallels are kinda cool.

“A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson:

I am impetuous. Not as much as I used to be, but I still have an impetuous *streak.* Hey, it’s genetic. It’s in my DNA. My daddy was wildly impetuous (one of the things that alternately drove me crazy and endeared me to him at the same time.) There is something great about being impetuous (because it makes you unpredictable and spontaneous.) There is also something not-so-great about being impetuous (because it makes you unpredictable and spontaneous.)

In the Bariatric After Life™ you have to plan (yes, even your spur-of-the-moment-spontenaity), so being impetuous (at least about food) is kinda discouraged. Unless, of course, you can “off-handedly” pack protein bars and *forget* you have them; but that’s a skill which requires a great deal of practice, mental dexterity, and loss of memory.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure this “impetuosity” is what aided and abetted my obesity in the first place. I say that, because phrases like, “that sounds yummy,” “why not,” and “a little bit won’t hurt” (common to the impetuous person’s everyday vocabulary) are NOT things a planned eater says. Don’t you remember $100,000 Pyramid, that game show with Dick Clark?

Person looking at the Pyramid:

• “I didn’t pack any food, so let’s hit the drive-thru.”
• “Yes, I’d like to super-size my order (no telling when I’ll be able to eat again.)”
• “I’ve never tried double-fudge-with-a-caramel-twist-triple-layer-cake, but it sure sounds good! Bring it on!”
• I don’t know if they have a gym at the hotel because I haven’t booked the hotel yet. Who needs tennis shoes?”
• I’m sure they’ll have a bathing suit that fits…”

Person with their back to the Pyramid:

• “THINGS A CONTROL FREAK SAYS!”

[Buzzer Sound]

Am I saying that my life was a gameshow before surgery? A little, but I never won, unless you consider a Spiegel Crockpot® and a year’s supply of Turtle Wax winning.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve toyed with accepting or rejecting the idea of routinization. When I was a little urchin (like 3 or 4), I’d watch my dad get ready to go to work. I’d crawl under the covers (because the bed was still warm from where he and my mom had slept), and watch him tie his tie…put on his socks and shoes…tie his shoes…put on his tie bar…put on his suit jacket…and apply a coating of Old Spice cologne. I was utterly fascinated by this routine as he never deviated from it.

I love how the bed sorta “shook” as he was bending over to tie his shoes.

I love how he’d give me a big smooch on my cheek before heading out to the living room with his briefcase to load up his pocket with change, his wallet and the car keys (they were located in his drop leaf desk by the front door.)

I remember thinking to myself, “Wow! My dad is amazing. He remembers to do the same thing every day. I wonder if *I’ll* ever be able to do that.”

And, of course, one day, I “was” able to do that. Only…by this time, I rejected the idea of routine as being “uncreative” and “overly-structured.” I did not want to be beholden to any sort of mandatory procedure in order to live my life. I was simply NOT going to run my life by the clock on the wall or the alarm on the nightstand.

Guess what? I was late to school.

A lot.

I was always trying to decide what to wear…at the last minute, instead of deciding the night before.

I never had time to pack a lunch. And, it only got worse when I became a working girl. I ran my pantyhose in my haste to get out the door. I left my dress shoes at home and had to don my Converse hi-top sneakers until I could overpay for a pair of professional shoes at lunch (yes, this really happened). I was *forced* to go out to eat and spend money I didn’t have.

On and on went the circus I called my life.

And then I got married…and our daughter was born. And suddenly, the need for routine was even MORE important. There were bedtimes to schedule, nighttime stories to read, meals to plan, diaper bags to pack…bottles to fill.

I rebelled. Somehow, I wanted my daughter to schedule herself. Oh, and that meant NOT waking up in the middle of the night. Yes, it’s true, that is how selfish and stubborn I was.

In retrospect, that type of thinking clearly informed my poor lifestyle choices, unhealthy eating habits, and general (lack of) life planning. I was subject to the whims and vagaries of life…I was floating along in the flotsam and jetsam , complaining all the while that things just “happen” to me and I have no control over any of them.

Well, 4 years ago, I took control. I began my weight loss journey. I began to plan, measure and schedule my eating. I began to exercise. I developed A ROUTINE (gasp!). I became the thing I always fought, yet secretly adored.

Guess what happened? I began to lose weight. I began to get healthy. I began to live.

It’s not the routine that makes you boring, uncreative or hamstrung. It is the ABSENCE of the routine. At least, that’s what *I* think…and this is coming from an impetuous planner. We are responsible for our plans, dreams, goals and living, and there is nothing wrong with consistency.

HOWEVER: We must learn to live life on LIFE’S terms…and having a routine makes life a lot more “doable.”

Oh, do I have a routine now? Maddeningly, yes! LOL. I’m up at pretty much the same time every morning (5:30 a.m. — me….the night owl). I make my cinnamon coffee and stagger to my computer to check emails, do Facebook, catch-up with friends, blog, then spend quality time with Enrique (my elliptical), dash to the shower, do my hair and makeup, get dressed (by the way, I still don’t always plan what I’m going to wear in advance!) Next, it’s a race to the kitchen to make my protein shake and throw some mason jars of cottage cheese and Greek Yogurt into ONE of my FOUR bags…then out to the car, onto to the freeway, and to the office.

By 9:30 a.m.

Trust me when I say, I have lived an entire LIFETIME everyday before anyone at work ever sees my shiny face (and impossibly, impeccably fluffy hair). Could I make things run a little smoother in the morning by having my lunch fully packed and my clothes laid out? Sure. But, that would rob me of what little impetuosity I crave, and I can’t become a foregone conclusion…what would my dad say?

PS — I’m off-schedule because this blog took me 10-minutes longer to format than I planned!

I’ve been hanging around the online bariatric community for about four years now, and in that time, I’ve witnessed a steady stream of – what I will nicely deem “misperceptions,” but really want to call rubbish – masquerading as unquestionable truth. These “opinions” are upheld as universally held fact (dare I say, worshipped as dogmatic gospel) and very few people dare to disagree with them. Heaven forbid they be labeled a bariatric heretic. (*GASP!*)

It drives me bonkers.

Let me share a few of these with you, so you’ll know what I mean:

• Vitamins and supplements are very expensive.
• Quality protein products cost a lot of money.
• It is more expensive to eat healthy food, than it is to eat junk.
• Eating right takes more preparation and planning than eating on the run.
• I can’t afford to attend weight loss surgery support conferences and retreats.
• I don’t have money to buy and read books that others recommend.

I don’t know about you, but in my “before life,” I did a lot of things without questioning their cost, value or healthiness.

I would go to 7-11 every morning and purchase (on average):

(1) large French Vanilla Cappuccino
(1) package of yellow Zingers
(1) bag of Rold Gold Pretzels
(2) 2 Diet Pepsis (in the bottle)
(1) Hostess Apple (or Cherry) Pie.

Total cost: About $8.00

If I didn’t go there, then I would drive-thru Krispy Kreme so I could buy a box of HOT donuts “for the office.” Naturallly, I’d buy TWO boxes (because it was “so much cheaper that way,”) and then I proceed to eat “one of everything” and “two of whatever I liked the best.” That would mean:

(1) Glazed
(1) Chocolate bar
(1) Powdered Lemon Filled
(1) Powdered Raspberry Filled
(1) Whatever else I found

Total Cost: About $8.00

For lunch, I would drive-thru Carl’s, El Pollo Loco, Taco Bell/Pizza Hut, McDonald’s or Jack-in-the-Box.

I’d buy:
(1) Fajita Pita Combo (Large)
(2) Tacos
(1) Carrot Cake

Total cost: About $8.00

For dinner, we’d go out for dinner as a family. By, “out,” I mean, one of the fast food giants.

Total cost: About $20.00

Not including MexiKen’s food, OR my daughter’s food, I would spend — AT MINIMUM — $36.00 per DAY on JUNK. There were no vitamins or supplements in there. No salads or healthy food. And I certainly didn’t work out (who had time?)

At a cost of $180/week (or $720 month — CONSERVATIVELY), I was killing myself the “cheap and easy way.”

And…the clothing? Plus size clothes are not cheap, and neither are the undergarments.

• Pants? $36/pair
• Tops? $20/each (casual)
• Business clothing? $75/outfit
• Bras (46DD)? $48/each (and they didn’t last that long).
• Panties ($20/3 pair)

It was not uncommon for me to plunk down between $250 and $300 per shopping trip — which I did about 3 or 4 times per year. Of course, I had to constantly replace my clothing because a) I wore the same things day in and day out, so they wore out quickly, or b) I outgrew them, so they didn’t fit anymore.

How about quality reading material? Well, after forking over $200 at the grocery store for things like four, 12-packs of Diet Pepsi, chips, frozen dinners, cookies and “convenient stuff” (that wouldn’t go bad), I would typically toss a $3.50 People Magazine into the cart (because I needed to keep up on the important news of the week.) If we were going on vacation, I’d buy 3-4 of them (so I’d have something to do in camp while everyone else was busy hiking, biking or doing active things.)

And, let’s not mention the spending spree for vacation goodies! Red Vines (red licorice in the tub), Oreo Double-Stuff cookies, junk cereal, chips and dip. Hamburger and hot dog buns, bacon, sausage, pancakes, more diet drinks, peanuts, popcorn, ice cream…and marshmallows.

It was not uncommon to swipe the ATM card for $800 in food for a 2-week road trip — which didn’t account for trips to the gasoline station mini-mart.

So, you see, I never thought twice about the “necessities” of life. I never asked myself, “Is this hamburger combo WORTH $6.00?”…I never said, “Gosh, $0.50 more to go super-size…that’s a lot of money for a few more fries and a big drink cup.” I never said, “how will reading this gossip rag improve my life?”

The bottom line was, I didn’t QUESTION the wisdom of my expenses because I WANTED what I WANTED.

So, what has changed in my Bariatric After Life™? Well, I’ll be honest, I don’t QUESTION the money I spend taking care of my needs, because I know the value of what I’m doing for myself. I don’t ask whether $30 for 12 Protein Blitz drinks is “too expensive,” because I know that those bottles will last me 2 weeks. I don’t grouse about the $25 price tag on that TUB of Protein Powder, because I know it will yield 15 drinks! I don’t complain about the $8.00 for 6 cartons of unsweetened vanilla Almond Breeze, because I know that milk would cost me $3.50 for a half gallon! I don’t complain about the cost of my Revival Soy chips, or my Oh Yeah Protein Bars. I don’t get upset about my Labrada Lean Body on the Go RTD’s, and I ESPECIALLY don’t complain about my VITAMINS AND SUPPLEMENTS. How can I? What sense does it make for me to complain about a $15 bottle of multivitamins that will last me a solid month? How can I be unhappy about spending $45 to attend an Obesity Help conference FOR AN ENTIRE WEEKEND? Yes, there are hotel expenses, but they are so minimal, especially compared to the gas I used to pour into my motorhome!

The point is, life is all about PERSPECTIVE. What price do I put on my health? It is actually CHEAPER to live now than it EVER was in my before life. I am spending far less money and getting far MORE for the effort.

I hear a lot of people justify their expenses by saying they finally believe they are worth it. (Meaning that they now have personal value, so whatever money they spend on themselves is valid.) That’s completely true — but you know what? Now that I’m not spending money on People Magazines, and Hostess bakery treats, I have a lot MORE money to spend on fresh produce and inspirational books. Now that I don’t have to spend so much money on a SINGLE pair of pants, I can opt to wait for sales, or buy THREE for the price of one (and know that they will fit me next year). And the bras? Yeah, same price, but they last longer (and are way prettier!)

Perhaps this is a bit of a rant, but you know what? I am tired of hearing people complain about how “expensive” things are in the bariatric world.

They aren’t.

Things are no more expensive NOW, than were the hamburgers, french fries, sodas, crap magazines and plus size clothing we used to buy without so much as a backward glance or second thought. I’m so OVER people complaining that they don’t want to pay $20 (per year) to help support an advocacy group that is fighting for US. I’m tired of people grousing that $9.95 for a magazine subscription is “pricey.”

And the vitamins and supplements? We should have been taking those before, and we’d have been a whole lot healthier, so complaining about the expense now is a bit silly. The money we save in doctor’s visits ALONE justifies those purchases at the Vitamin Shoppe and Vitacost.com!

And don’t get me started on books. If you don’t have the money, you can always go to the library or borrow a book from a friend.

So, you see…It all boils down to ATTITUDE. Do you WANT to be healthy? Do you WANT to live a longer, happier life? How much is that worth to YOU? Is it worth the price of a McRib, fries and a diet coke? How about a chocolate frosty from Wendy’s? Is it worth that? Is it worth a big old slab of butter cream cake or a massive chocolate chip cookie from BJ’s?

My answer is YES, but I can’t speak for you.

If I sound cranky, it’s because I am. I’m tired of hearing people complaining about stuff that isn’t true. I’m tired of people peddling lies to justify…what? Bad behavior?

It’s time to for a change in attitude…all around. It’s time for an investment in our future. You can agree with me, or you can keep complaining. That’s your choice. As for me? I’m the one who’s spending a fortune on a graduate degree, so what do I know?

I’ll say it again: It’s all about perspective.

What do you think…?

I originally wrote this last June (for Gastric Bypass Barbie). Fortunately, I am not in “possession” of the extra 8-10 pounds I was lamenting about back then (at least not for now), but the message is still vital. I hope you enjoy this little Walk Down Memory Lane:

Fantasizing, Romanticizing & Giganticizing

Last night, I climbed into bed and my brain immediately switched into “overdrive.” Now, I realize that this is not a good place to be when I should be sleeping, but, next to the shower, it is where I do some of my very best thinking.

So, here’s where this posting all began: The word “romanticizing” popped into my head, because this is what I have been guilty of doing lately. You see, I have been wrestling with a few extra pounds (a reality which does not make me happy, but does give me something to work on!) Anyway, the more I thought about those pounds, the more i realized that there are a host of “IZING” words that could quickly consume and overwhelm my successful Bariatric After Life™– if I let them.

Let me explain:

As a pre- and early post-op, I would spend my days FANTASIZING about what I would look like when I lost the weight. I spent a bunch of time pouring over “Befores and Afters,” marveling at the monumental differences people experienced; wondering if I would ever reach that same goal, and if I did, what I would look like. Essentially, I was living in fantasyland every free moment I had.

Don’t get me wrong, fantasizing is not a bad thing, as long as it is based in some sort of reality, and involves a solid plan for achieving it. I think i was pretty realistic in my planning, because my original goal was very generous and, ultimately, more-than achievable.

Well, as a post-op, I blew past my original goal, to the tune of about 40 pounds, and found myself in a scrawny, skinny, meatless body with jutting bones, sunken eyes and cheeks. At the time, I KNEW that I was too thin and KNEW that my body would rebound to a healthier weight. But, somewhere inside, I was having this battle between what I KNEW was healthy, and what I actually LOOKED like.

As I remove my rose-tinted glasses and look back at myself with honest eyes, I can assure you that MexiKen did not love the way my little body looked — I had lost all of my curves, had no butt, and couldn’t fit grown-up people clothes. I looked silly in my baggy things and was constantly lamenting that I couldn’t wear some of the pretty clothes I was finding on the racks. Size 4′s weren’t just too big – they LITERALLY slid down to my ankles. It really was not pretty.

But, over time, I regained a little weight, those size 4′s began to fit properly, and I started “filling out.” Eventually, I settled in at a comfortable size 6 — a good place for my 5’8″ frame. I had a little butt and a few curves and no one complained that I was too skinny (or too fat). I looked healthy and felt great. Except that I kept going and overshot my “ideal” by about 8-10 pounds. Now, this is unacceptable, because I find myself outside of my new comfort zone, where things don’t quite fit as comfortably anymore.

It occurs to me, that what I have been doing is ROMANTICIZING my previous underweight status. I have been whispering sweet nothings into my brain, convincing myself that being a size 2 was wonderful, because nothing was ever tight or binding, and whatever I tried on always fit. Of course, I know this is NOT true, but this is how romanticizing works. You forget the realities, hardships, disappointments and struggles, and recast them as happy, glowing, glorious times.

Fortunately, I have not allowed myself to marinate in that kind of stinking thinking, because it is not only counterproductive — it is a LIE.

But, where do I go if I can’t romanticize or fantasize? Well, if you’re unhealthy, and fighting a few extra pounds, you can quickly begin to GIGANTICIZE. This is what happens when you start to tell yourself that you are a “big, fat loser.” You begin to exaggerate the reality of your body and what the scale is reporting, and start obsessing over weight regain. When giganticizing happens, you panic and your fat head runs the show. After all, you gained 5 or 10 pounds and now you are GIGANTIC.

Clearly, you can see the downside of this thinking, because it is neither productive nor empowering.

But, if you aren’t careful, giganticizing quickly turns to MINIMIZING. As in, “I *only* have 5 or 10 extra pounds. I’ve lost 150 or 160, and I’m fine with this weight regain. It’s not a big deal, and I’m sure I can lose it, if I want to.” In other words, you can quickly MINIMIZE the scope of the problem by using old criteria as your gage. “I used to weigh 316 pounds; I’m nowhere NEAR that now, so why is this a problem?”

Well, that brings me to the 4th “izing” word: RATIONALIZING. If you allow yourself to move into rationalizing, you are on a slippery slope to inevitable weight regain. Why? Because rationalizing goes hand-in-hand with apathy and denial. When you rationalize, you are actually telling yourself RATIONAL LIES.

So, what is the solution to this destructive “izing“?

Here are 5 little steps to replace BAD “izing” words with GOOD “izing” words!

Step 1: RECOGNIZE
Realize that you have a problem; that things aren’t going the way you want them to go, and you need to DO something before it is too late.

Step 2: VISUALIZE
Make some decisions about your recovery. What do you WANT the rest of your life to look like? What do you feel is a good and realistic weight for you to maintain? How will your body look and feel? Formulate that vision, then make that your goal.

STEP 3: LEGITIMIZE
Is your vision reasonable, achievable, and maintainable? Is it LEGITIMATE? If it is, then cement that vision in your mind; make it tangible, real and worthy and don’t let ANYONE or anything distract you from accomplishing it. Make it your driving force.

STEP 4: EMPHASIZE
Opposite of minimizing, in this step, you begin EMPHASIZING the legitimate vision you have created for yourself. You must make it a priority. Here, you are saying, “This is my goal and I will accept no less. All of my thoughts and actions must reinforce this vision to ensure it becomes and remains my reality.”

STEP 5: EXERCISE
No, I don’t just mean going to the gym or taking regular walks (although that is a part of it.) There’s more to this step than that. Here, you must EXERCISE good choices, healthy lifestyle habits, and positive thinking, in order to achieve and maintain your vision. This step is the most important of ALL of the steps, because it involves both mental AND physical exercise. It is a DOING word that involves meaningful and positive ACTIONS.

Do you find yourself “izing“? Perhaps you are guilty of Catastrophizing (a word I didn’t use above, but might be true?) — Perhaps you are blowing your situation so far out of proportion, you feel that you have no hope.

Well, there is ALWAYS HOPE — I know this, because I am a living, breathing, walking miracle, and people who are given the gift of a second chance at life have no right to be HOPELESS.

Here’s the bottom line: You can choose to FANTASIZE, ROMANTICIZE, GIGANTICIZE, MINIMIZE and RATIONALIZE until you find yourself regaining weight and losing control, OR, you can follow the 5 easy steps, and REGAIN CONTROL of your Bariatric After Life™.

Start MAXIMIZING your potential. Don’t MARGINALIZE your healthy life. Get started, get focused, and take charge of what matters most.

I know I DID.

At some point in our Bariatric After Life™, we learn that our goal is to stop being defined by our surgery and start living life. And yet, we can never forget that we had surgery, because we don’t want to return to our old habits. I’ll admit, this concept has really tripped me up, because I spend my days reading, writing and talking about bariatrics!

How, on earth, do I stop thinking about food, when all I think about is food? Throw in a food addiction and, by all rights, I should have a barrel of monkeys on my hands. Only…I don’t.

How can that be?

Well, in the past few months, I’ve had the strangest feeling wash over me. It’s something akin to “normalcy” – or, as normal as a surgically-altered person can be – and then, not quite normal at all. If I had to define it for you, I believe I would call it: PEACE. Yes, that is it. I am at PEACE within my body. The warring factions have laid down their weapons of mass disruption, and I am now living life on life’s terms. Not to confuse PEACE, with PERFECTION, or CALMNESS — because neither of those things comes even remotely close.

To be clear, what I am feeling is a reunification or reassociation with my SELF. I have been torn apart for so long, I’d forgotten what it was like to actually BE ME — if I ever really knew at all.

Thanks to therapy and the support of good friends, I now know what it’s like (at least as far as anyone can determine) to be ME: It’s crazy, fast-paced, gung-ho, exciting, outrageous, magical, frustrating, disconcerting, energizing, exhausting, invigorating, maddening, brilliant, radical, awesome, mellow, unlimited, liberating, compassionate, honest and everything in between. It’s like a zoo and a circus and a day at Disneyland, all rolled into one.

For the first time in – probably EVER – I am at home in my own skin, and I like the way it feels. I know what makes me happy, and I know what frustrates me. I know what triggers a binge, and I know what recovery feels like. I know what being fit does for my emotions, and I know what being sick does to my heart. I am in touch with myself and…I like me.

Guess what? I am not really about food at all. At least not today. Or yesterday. Maybe I will be tomorrow, I don’t know. One thing I do know is, I am hard-pressed to find someone who is not struggling to maintain (or lose) their weight (whether they’ve had surgery or not); I am hard-pressed to find someone who does not think they *could* workout at least one more day a week (whether they have had surgery or not), and I am hard-pressed to find a person who doesn’t wish they hadn’t eaten a certain food today (whether they have had surgery or not). So, you see…I’m really NOT that different from anybody else, and yet…I am.

How? I surround myself by like-minded, successful post-ops. I get filled up daily by reading inspirational blogs, hearing from my Facebook and Twitter friends, and just chatting it up with healthy, balanced folks. Like me I remain a staunch advocate for the disease of obesity, and I speak to whoever will listen.

If you were to take away one thing from this message, it would be this: The further away from my surgery, the more normal I feel. It’s like swimming away from the shore. I can’t touch the bottom with my toes anymore, but I’m not freaking out; I’m actually wondering what’s beyond that next wave. I never thought that could happen….

Have you ever experienced this?

The past two weeks are something of a blur, and yet I remember a few, glorious moments as if they are playing out right in front of me. Since I’ve been away for a bit, I’ll bring you up to speed:

Two weekends ago, I had the amazing opportunity to attend and speak at the WLSFA Mother of All Meet & Greets in Las Vegas. I’ll be honest and say I had quite a bit of trepidation about the event — for a lot of reasons — not the least of which was, I’d been traveling virtually nonstop for the 2 months leading up to the weekend, and I didn’t feel like I had a chance to settle in and calmly prepare. But, as life tends to do, time waited for no woman, and the event was upon us — whether my voice and I were ready, or not!

I know that many of you were unable to attend, but a few of you tuned in online to “watch” the comings and goings. I say “watch” because some people shared that the sound was horrible, so when I got up to speak (laryngitis and all), no one could hear me. Fortunately, I’m told, my body language ROCKED! LOL.

Anyway, let me share some of my personal highlights from the event:

Initially, MexiKen was supposed to join me, and my daughter and her good friend, Jessica, would be in the car with us. But, those plans changed, and MexiKen and Hannah had to work, which meant that I would have to fly out on Thursday, while Hannah and Jessica drove in on Friday…and poor MexiKen stayed in Long Beach to keep the home fires burning.

Okay, so plans changed and I went with it (sorta like running the rapids on the Colorado River…who am I to fight the current?) Me and the Purple People eater touched down at McKerran International Airport around 7:45 a.m. and took a cab ($20…really?) to Bally’s, where I met up with my good friend, Laura Preston and her precious pug, Max. I also met her hot roommate, Rick…a little. (He was under the covers, after having been out all night…which is what people DO in Vegas. Never fear, I met him later.) In her inimitable fashion, Laura threw her hair up into a fabulous ponytail and we were off to have breakfast in Paris. What fun! We dined on eggwhite omelets (and I drank too much coffee) until Rick joined us. May I just say that I feel SHORT next to these two??? Generally, I’m the tallest girl in the group, but not here. I might as well be walking in a trench! Argh.

Anyway, after breakfast (a looooooong breakfast), it was off to walk Max and then join up with Frank Surace and Maryellen Ruggiero. We had some SERIOUS work to do, and very little time to do it!!!

Exactly what sort of work does one do INSIDE a hotel room on a glorious, Las Vegas day? How about hammering out last minute details for a soft-launch of a brand new hub to HELP bariatric people? Exactly! We spent the entire afternoon (and early evening), putting the finishing touches on PHASE I of our site: Healthy Everyday Life Products (HealthyEverydayLP.com). I won’t go into the particulars here, but let me just say that this team of dedicated post-ops is comprised of some of the fiercest, most loyal and determined people I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. Though there were only four of us physically IN the hotel room, I must share that our other teammates, Yvonne McCarthy (on a plane, flying in from Dallas), Emily Gomez (holding down the “fort” in “Fort Worth”) and Traci Baker (keeping it real in Indiana) were working equally hard from their corners of the world.

After a lovely dinner at Cabo Wabo, it was back to the room to put the finishing touches on our presentation, and then over to the Palace Station for a late check-in

Friday morning came earlier than expected (as mornings tend to do when I’m on the road), but I leapt out of bed to see if I had a voice. NO. I did NOT have a voice. Okay…I can do this…it’s not like the SMOKE and DRY AIR in Vegas will harm me, right? Uh…not so much.

After a day of meetings, it was time to throw the switch on the Meet and Greet and OFFICIALLY get the party started! People began rolling in from all corners of the world…we saw Diva Taunia and her (soon-to-be-hubby), Rob in the Casino (little did WE know!)…we met up with Kim and Bo from Obesity Help…I ran into Tammy Taylor (she was actually the first shiny, happy face I met on Friday – I love her!) — and the list was endless. It was like a class reunion, because people are always losing weight in our community, so you have to look at their name badges to see who they are!!!

Now, for my favorite part….THE OPENING CEREMONY. If you know me by now, you know how much I love to overdress for any occasion, so this was no exception! Fortunately, my beautiful daughter and her BFF had made it to town, and they were waiting for me in the room to help me pull it all together…and, yes…make my hair REALLY BIG. Hey, my daughter created this look, so I rely upon her to make it happen when it counts! Between her flying hands, the hair dryer, a teasing comb and some MAD hairspray (Aerogel, thank you Emily), I was ready for primetime!

Wow! The room looked like a fairytale, and everyone around me was simply glowing! I got to see Sarah (SarahWillBeSkinny) and Andrea (JunglGirl) who were the two originators of the FIRST WLS Vegas Meet and Greet (they both looked beautiful), and I got to meet Sally Curtis Wimberley (I love this woman! She is radiant in person, and I MEAN that.) Of course, I bumped into my “old” friends, Rob “McNee” Portinga, the folks from BTV (Mike, Toni and Lynnda), OF COURSE, I got to hug on Rosemary, Connie and her hubby Alfred (love those people) and…welll…just too many to remember and name, but I enjoyed every hug.

Sally Curtis Wimberly & Me

Anyway, the evening turned out to be truly magical. Antonia Namnath did an impossibly fabulous job of putting everything together, and there wasn’t a frown or dry eye in the room. Between presentations to Sarah (who will receive reconstructive surgery by Dr. Katzen, thanks to a grant from the WLSFA), and the twins (Connie & Rosemary), it was hard to imagine things could get any better…but BETTER, they got! Vic and Nick (Celebrate Vitamins) sponsored the evening and Nick gave an impromptu concert (he rocks, by the way), but not to be outdone, we had a surprise wedding to throw! Yes, we had a wedding, right there in the banquet room of the Palace Station Hotel!!! Diva Taunia and Rob FINALLY tied the knot in a memorable ceremony officiated by — none other than — Antonia Namnath. Of course, the final kiss was worth the wait (Congrats and Mazel Tov, you two!) and before I knew it, my feet were toast and it was back to my room to rest my voice.

Me and Sarah (thanks for the pic, Sally!)

Saturday morning came FAR TOO EARLY, but my intrepid daughter still rose to help me primp and prep my hair (LOL – God love her!!!) Today was a big day for so many reasons, and I couldn’t wait to stagger race down to the exhibit hall!!!

I joined my posse (Frank, Maryellen and Laura) at the HELP table, and we set up our brand new banner (yea!) and displayed our amazing prize giveaways. Now, for the record, because I had no (stinking) voice, I was basically like a third wheel at the table, so I must give major props to FRANK and MARYELLEN for their unwavering commitment to sharing the message of HELP, and also to Laura, for making sure the giveaway loot was totally fabulous (Chanel? Clinique? Signed Richard Simmons stuff? No freaking WAY!) My team is (in Laura’s words): A-MA-ZING!

HELP & FRIENDS: Maryellen Ruggiero, Dr. Connie Stapleton, Steve Little, John Burlison, Cari De La Cruz, Laura Preston, Roommate Rick and Frank Surace

We met some terrific people over the course of the day, including Ben Akey (Bariatric Guru, Erin Akey’s delightful Hubby), Andrew Leon LeClair (unbelievable, inspirational, dynamic 30-year — yes, you read that right — 30-year post-op and author of One Foot in Front of the Other ), and reconnected with our “old friends” — the guys at Bariatric Advantage (Ed, why didn’t you TELL me you were coming?), Kim and Dave (Obesity Help), Monika Dossa (from the original M&G) John Burlison (Facebook buddy and official HELP Photographer for the weekend , Tamika Bryant and Shaya Leonard (my 2 beautiful girlfriends) and Joe from OAC.

Tamika Bryant, Me & Shaya Leonard

The electricity in the room was undeniable, but before I knew it, the speakers were ready to do their thing.

DISCLAIMER: Despite my best efforts, I did NOT get to hear all of the speakers. I wanted to…but I sorta…blew it. That’s the truth. I simply BLEW. IT. (Bo, Rosemary and everyone else…I’m talking to Y-O-U.)

Okay, so Connie Stapleton (author of Eat It Up! and my favorite psychologist on the planet) spoke about the importance of SEX WITHIN A RELATIONSHIP. Trust me, she wasn’t judging — she was explaining what makes it so great. Next came Laura Preston, who spoke about FINDING YOUR FIT. This is one passionate speaker, and it is hard not to get pumped when she speaks! Next, I heard my darling friend, Yvonne McCarthy speak. You will simply NOT find a more passionate post-op on the planet — close seconds, maybe, but no parallels!) She created a beautiful and moving video called “The Bridge” where she talked about how we cannot drag people across the bridge to healing and recovery, but we can cheer them on from the other side. It was a powerful mixture of original music, poetry and pictures, and it really spoke to our hearts.

After that, it’s sort of a blur until 3PM (LOL), when it was my turn to take the stage.

But, before I could utter more than a few croaks (and start the bidding war on my cute red purse…), Antonia Namnath took the stage to present me with a Founders Award for being one of the original organizers of the first WLS Vegas M&G in February of 2010 I was floored, humbled and supremely honored! Wow. Didn’t expect it…that’s for sure.

Thanks for the piccie Monika Dossa!

So, once the shock wore off, I dispatched my lovely and talented assistants (Hannah and Jessica) to pass out little golf pencils and forms in some baskets they designed just for me

SIDEBAR: Okay, I must describe these baskets, because they took it upon themselves to do the art project for me. I believe the exact motivation sounded like this: “Mom. You cannot just pass around plain old white baskets. That’s boring and this is a reflection on you. You’re fun and fabulous, so your baskets have to be fun and fabulous, too!” How can I argue with that? Of course, I didn’t realize what I was in for at the time, but I ended up with baskets that are so fabulous, they blew my mind: Black fluffy boa material around the edges and woven chiffon pink ribbon around the sides. Glorious!!! END SIDEBAR

I was ready for my talk and my voice came in *just enough* for the room to hear me (with the aid of the microphone). I spoke about my before self, and how much I loathed her. We had a funeral for her and pretty much spat on her grave. And then…I remembered that people are usually MEMORIALIZED when they die, which is what WE must do with our before selves; we must love them for who they were and realize that we are who we are BECAUSE OF THEM. It was time to party, so I had my lovely assistants pass the baskets around again, only THIS TIME, they were overflowing with party horns, whistling lips (!) and hand clappers. We had a freaking PAR-TAY to celebrate our new lives. It was a RE-BIRTHDAY and it was great. Everyone hooted, hollered, whistled, clapped and cheered. I LOVED IT.

And that’s where it ended for me. I’d done my thing and it was time to go crash. Can you believe it? While everyone else was just getting pumped and primed for the Burlesque show and ensuing Flash Mob dance…I was relegated to my room with a mug of hot tea, lemon and some cough drops.

Oh well, may I just say that I HEARD the Flash Mob from my room the next morning? Yes, I was moving my feet to the rhythm of Katy Perry’s FIREWORK…under my covers. Sigh.

Next year, I will have a voice, and NEXT YEAR, I will not miss the fun and frivolity on Saturday night. I hope you’ll join me!

Muah :-*

I know what recovery from obesity feels like. I have been there before…for 30, glorious days; I am there again (currently on day 6). The reason I’m talking about it is because I want you to know that it IS POSSIBLE and it CAN HAPPEN. Not that I’m gonna race down the road, proclaiming that I am “CURED” from my disease — because that’s simply not true. Nor, will I pay a skywriter to trace the announcement that I will never binge again.

The truth of the matter is:

• TODAY, I am living in recovery.
• TODAY, I know what peace feels like.
• TODAY, I know that it is possible.
• TODAY, I know that tomorrow holds no promises.

As my wise friend, Dr. Connie Stapleton reminded me — just this morning — I must live life on life’s terms. It sounds so much kinder when you say it that way; thank you, Connie.

If you are struggling with an addiction, and fear that you can’t conquer it –don’t believe the lie; You can conquer it, and if you are willing to do the work…you will.

Mine is a message of hope. It comes from someone who — at least for today — is living in recovery. I make no promises, but I will tell you that the feeling is glorious.

Never give up!

Have you ever watched one of those shows about people who survive, despite the odds? They become better people than they were before the event — even if they lose a limb, are constrained to a wheelchair, or suffer brain damage. I am always amazed when I see the story of someone who loses two legs, but ends up running marathons or climbing mountains! I’m awestruck by someone who is wheelchair-bound, yet manages to roll themselves cross-country. I think of the injured military vet who serves another tour of duty, even though he his horribly disfigured or permanently disabled – all because he can’t imagine doing anything less for his country.

I remember Christopher Reeve – always a good-looking guy and talented actor, but not someone you’d look to in a philanthropic way. He, arguably, touched and changed many more lives AFTER his accident, than he probably would have BEFORE. He turned his disability into a super-ability.

For Christopher Reeve, and those like him, failure is not an option. So often, they achieve mind-boggling things, far beyond the imaginations and expectations of doctors and loved ones. They not only BEAT the odds, they blow them away. I’m pretty sure none of them ever put “surviving a catastrophe” on their bucket list, yet once it happened, they found a way to dig deep and flourish. They managed to do things no one would EVER expect of them, and yet…they expect nothing LESS.

Most people don’t plan to be in a plane crash, explosion, horse accident, massive earthquake or tsunami. They don’t wake up one day and say, “After I get my degree, I’m going to lose my leg in a deadly car crash and then join a ski team,” and I don’t think anyone would consciously CHOOSE the life of a survivor. But, my guess is, they wouldn’t CHOOSE to live it any differently, once it happens.

Extraordinary survivors make a conscious decision to thrive, instead of survive. So, what is it about people that causes them to not only rise TO the occasion, but rise ABOVE it? Where does that phenomenal character trait come from?

Did they know they had it?
Do you think you have it?
Do I believe I have it?

When I was a kid, and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said things like, “I want to become a famous cartoonist”, “I want to be a stand-up comedian,” “I want to be a teacher,” or “I want to get married to a handsome man and become a mom.”

I never said, “I want to become so obese that I will put my life on hold for 25 years, make my poor (handsome) husband miserable, not take any pictures with my child while she’s growing up, and then have bariatric surgery so I can lose weight and create a new life.”

Not that I am comparing my Bariatric After Life™ to literally surviving a plane crash, but in a sense, that is exactly how I felt. My plane was crashing and I had no parachute. I was bracing for impact, yet somehow, I survived. It’s like my world had collapsed and I was under a pile of rubble. I saw a pinhole of sunlight, then used every ounce of my strength to claw my way out and reach the light of day. I was being swept away in a tsunami, drowning in my obesity.

I DID think I was going to die, and at times, I almost WILLED it to happen. I WANTED something to put me out of my misery. Believe me when I say, I did not have the mentality of a survivor. If you’d asked me then whether I wanted to live to be 100, I’d have told you I didn’t even want to live to be 40. It doesn’t help to feel guilty about that now; I was captive to a catastrophe – one I believed was of my own making.

But here I am, more than 3 years post-gastric bypass surgery and I AM A SURVIVOR. I am doing things I NEVER imagined I’d be doing with my life. I am somehow maintaining a healthy weight, active lifestyle, and balance eating program. The miracle of all is: I survived and am doing the things I was created to do; I’m becoming the person God created me to be.

I believe there is a hero in each of us; that we have the capacity to survive whatever we set our minds to. I am not perfect; my arms have big, long scars (faded, thank you), and my body is shrinkly and droopy, but I have survived drowning, being buried alive, and crashing — all in one lifetime.

That’s not the same as losing a limb, but you might say I lost an entire person and found myself.

Several years ago, MexiKen and I decided that we wanted to make blanket kits for the homeless. We were going to get those flannel Mexican blankets, roll them with a bungee cord, then put some socks, a razor, soap, a comb, toothpaste and a toothbrush inside. You know, everything someone living on the streets might need to feel a little better, despite their circumstances.

We took our plan to the church, to see if anyone else might want to join us on our mission, but instead of resounding cheers, we were WARNED AGAINST doing it at all. To our surprise, folks in the parish who had experience working with homeless people told us that, while we had a “nice idea,” we wouldn’t be able to do it without police escorts!

Me being the Pollyanna that I am, I was SHOCKED to hear this. I mean, why would I need protection? Who WOULDN’T want a warm blanket and comforting items to alleviate some of the discomfort? Who wouldn’t be grateful for a little warmth and compassion?

Unfortunately, in those days, I didn’t really understand the human condition as well as I do now.

I didn’t understand that people are proud and can easily feel “judged.”
I didn’t understand that people are embarrassed and can’t always accept a “handout.”
I didn’t understand that people are angry, and don’t want “pity”.
I didn’t understand that some people don’t want help because they don’t think they are worthy, have value, or can still benefit from it.
I didn’t understand that some people think they are a lost cause, a waste of space, or unlovable.

I didn’t understand MYSELF very well, so how could I understand others?

When I was obese, I wanted help, but I didn’t want to be judged. I didn’t want to “hear it” from doctors, nutritionists and personal trainers who “meant well” but didn’t understand what I was going through. I didn’t want to be told that I had to accept the “blanket” they were giving me, because it usually meant that I would have to do something to earn it.

It’s weird, but the blanket kits I wanted to offer to the homeless are analogous to the support I now offer to others who are struggling to lose, re-lose, or maintain their weight.

I say, “Here, take this blanket. You’ll feel better. It will make you warm.”

But they reply, “Why should I take your blanket? You don’t know what it’s like to be cold and hungry. You don’t know how much I’ve suffered. Look at you. You’re dressed warmly, you have a roof over your head, and food in the fridge.”

I sat, “Yes, but I was there once. Right where you are now. I did suffer. I felt cold and lonely. I needed help and didn’t take it when it was given. Accept my help now!”

They say, “You think you’re better than me. You’re judging me. You’re only doing this to maker YOURSELF feel better. I don’t have the problem — YOU have the problem. I’m really glad you’ve got *all the answers,* but I didn’t ask you to answer anything for me.”

Sometimes it hurts because I KNOW I can alleviate some of the pain and suffering. But then I remember that timing is everything, and we all have to come to that place where we are open to accepting help. We must drop to our knees and say that we need help. We have to admit that we have a problem that is bigger than ourselves. We must finally accept the blanket.

You know what? I’ve got blankets to offer, and there are NO strings attached. I am judging no one for accepting the comfort I offer. I come with open hands, an open heart, and lots of love. I do remember what it feels like to be “COLD.” I do remember how it feels to suffer and feel worthless.

If you accept the gift I’m offering, you owe me nothing in return. All I ask is that, one day, when you are warm and healthy, and your heart has a little extra to give, you will offer YOUR “blanket” to someone else — because YOU remember what it feels like to struggle.