A year ago today...

A year ago today I was staring down the barrel of one of the hardest physical challenges of my life.  A year ago today I went in for my first reconstructive surgery (tummy tuck) with all the bravery and smiles a girl who had halved herself could muster!  I was the fittest and healthiest I’ve EVER been, I’d worked SO hard, I was mentally and physically ready - and I was determined to rock that surgery in every way possible!

A year later, and I’m sitting here with what feels like a fist gripping my heart.  It’s been THE hardest year of my transition, and part of me is just….  hurting/lamenting/questioning/dreaming/consoling… ?  I’m not sure how I feel at the moment.  Very mixed emotions.

Ofcourse, I had to contend with the physical issues post-surgery – there was dizzy spells and fatigue like nothing else.  Ofcourse there was the pain and swelling of cutting off a significant portion of your body. But it was the insane staph infection which totally messed me around for bulk of the months following (and even 12 months later, I still have a few slight issues) – and the biggest brain-messer-uperer was when I “burst at the seams” from the infection.  Scariest thing I’ve been through – there are just no words when you have a mass load of fluids streaming out of a wound in your body and you’re helpless to do anything about it...  It made me seriously question if any of it was worth it.

As the months rolled on, I realised there were other issues coming out of the woodwork that I hadn’t had to deal with before – nor had I been prepped or ‘warned’ about.  My anxiety levels skyrocketed – my heart palpitations were fit to send sonic shockwaves through all of Bathurst on some days.  I’d be close to heart-attack status with the anxiety, just trying to walk into a shopping centre to buy a few groceries, after numerous near-fainting spells over the first couple of months left some jagged memories in there that would shoot me with anxiety every time I’d attempt it.  Even trying to leave my house was becoming problematical – driving my car would scare me (I nearly fainted driving the car when I didn’t know I was infected) - and exercise… pfft.  It started scaring the life out of me – my body would ‘tighten’ when it was swollen with heat or movement, and most days it felt like the safest place for me was to lay on the floor.  Couldn’t fall any further if I was already on the floor. I became very accustomed to laying on the floor.

It hurt SO BAD in that first six months – I was shattered.  My surgery wasn’t the ‘be all, end all’ – it left me significantly scarred (not my surgical scar – that mofo rocks my world, it’s seriously bad arse from hip to hip!!).  No – my mental state was completely shattered.  I was fucked (for want of a better word…!).

My anxiety – untreated and undiagnosed – turned into depression over winter (one of my trouble points on any given year!) – but fuelled with the hurt and resentment of the swelling, issues, anxiety, and my distaste of my wonky, still “unattractive” body….  I forfeited into a spiral of self-hatred and ended up totally lost.

If you’ve read my previous (and very infrequent, very distanced) blogs this year – you’ll have probably caught onto the fact that I wasn’t very ‘ok’.  I thought I had it covered… hell, I’ve been through worse in the past (or so I thought!) – but this was a whole new kettle of fish.  I was in unchartered territory – again – and it left me completely lost.

I went in search of outlets and ‘help’ throughout different avenues this year – including the Brisbane and Sydney Emazon STAND conventions in March and September.  These taught me that there is far more to life than the ‘superficial’ (which I already knew) and pushed me to re-discover and re-connect with my Spirit – and work on finding meaningful relationships with everything in my world.  Including myself – one of my hardest tasks.   

Trying to piece myself together after a massive physical transformation, I was coming unstuck.  Literally.  The surgery – "I thought" – was going to help me feel better about myself.  To help me facilitate some awesome self-love that was still lacking.  Help me be brave and put myself out there – so maybe someone else could see past the exterior and like Amy (god knows my biggest fear is ending up completely alone for the rest of my life…!).   But there it was – in cold hard black and white (or in my case, black and blue!) – the superficial was NOT my answer.  The surgery had failed me in that respect.  My weightloss, therefore, felt like it had failed me too.

I was emptier AFTER surgery than I've ever felt before.   …. And it broke my freaking heart.  

I didn’t look how I wanted – I didn’t like what I saw – I felt rejected, dejected and foul.  It wasn’t “the best thing you’ll ever do Amy!” as I’d heard numerous times prior surgery –  I resented what I saw in the mirror – and even worse, resented the girl staring back at me who had DONE THAT TO ME!  I blamed her for my brokenness.  I hated where I was.

I was full of hate and hurt…. again.  Just like I was when I was twice my size.   THAT is what hurts the most…  How did I end up right back there again?!  

Twelve months later, and I’m still being asked about the surgery.  I went AWOL for a while – trying to deal with everything. I felt I couldn’t comment in a positive light, so I just stopped commenting at all.  People would ask me for specific details, and photos – and it’d take all my energy not to want to shake them and tell them ‘DON’T DO IT!!!’… but I knew that’s not how I felt entirely about it all.  I was just hurting.

There is still a wad of leftover skin on my belly….  That’s something they don’t tell you either – here I was thinking it was going to help rid all that, but NO – there’s only “so much they can take” because its living tissue / blood loss issues mean they can only do so much.   When I was carrying the amount of skin that I was, from having been the size I was, I was left with more skin than I actually realised…  I learnt that the hard way.

I’ve deliberately refrained from showing pictures.  I’m still struggling with body shame – and quite frankly I can see no need to showcase pics of me in my undies for public scrutiny!   I’m far too scared of the damage that may do… even though I’ve suggested in the past that I would offer those up “when I was brave enough”.  Truth is, I’m just not.   I’d love to show the difference between the before and after- it’s quite significant (or at least, moreso at the beginning of the year before my self-sabotage stint) – but I don’t think it’s ‘show worthy’ (my stomach isn’t flat – my body is bumpy and lumpy and I still carry wads of skin in other areas that upset me…).  So it’ll remain private – and as it is, I can barely look at those photos myself without ending up upset.  Looking in the mirror now is hard enough – I haven’t even HAD photos taken in the last few months because of the decline in my mental state in relation to my body.  I feel as though we haven’t even been on speaking terms for bulk of this year.

That’s the thing right there.  The disappointment in the physicality has instigated a serious shift in perspective in my mental state – a very rapid, very dangerous decline.  It had taken me YEARS to like what my body was achieving – losing the weight, getting fitter, reshaping – I was actually starting to LIKE who and what I was!!    There’s one photo taken just a week or so before surgery in a dress at Finale, end of November, that I was totally in love with!  I was just radiant – super happy – and it showed in my face, in my  body, in the way I talked, laughed, looked…

Twelve months later, and I’m a mess.   My body gave out when my heart and head did.  I’m pretty sure I just gave up mid this year. It was just too much. Too hard.  I was over it.  I ached from tip to toe.  Physically and mentally.  I couldn’t breathe from the anxiety, and I didn’t care because my heart hurt so much.  

Add to that, I’d put myself ‘out there’ earlier in the year, hoping I was a bit more desirable (also mistakenly assuming I was more comfortable in my skin) – I’d been met with a string of rejections.  Having my heart ripped out of my chest when I connected with someone, when they chose someone else – well that was the last straw.  I don’t think I recovered after that – to me, that was the biggest confirmation that I was still unwanted – still not good enough.  I stopped looking, I shut down, I gave up on that too.  In my eyes, I was too hideous and foul – and at the rate my esteem was plummeting – too gross of a person, on the inside as much as the outside, to love anyway…  (I’m still fighting this thinking…!)

Lots of tears and lots of FOOD MEDICATING later – and a couple of months ago I’d had enough.  I was tired of crying, tired of hating myself, tired of fighting over and over again the same shit day in, day out.  I was pissed off that I was fighting depression-symptoms again, and I was TERRIFIED that I was heading towards self-harm territory like I’ve dealt with in the past.  Absolutely terrified – and totally fucked off.  I DID NOT WORK MY ARS E OFF TO GO BACK THERE!!!

I wasn’t getting anywhere on my own – I wasn’t winning.  The anxiety had turned festy, and I KNEW I wasn’t winning against that - everything upset me and every day I was contending with 'something'.  I was more inclined to eat my emotions, my body was aching even though I wasn’t training, and I was tired.  Constantly, utterly tired.  I had unexplained pain and fatigue – tendonitis in my arm, severe joint immobility and now a heel spur from seemingly out of nowhere!  My body was breaking down – right along with my head.   So I sought help.   I pulled in my stubborn Taurean head and went to the Dr…

Last couple of months I’ve been on low-dose anti-depressants to help calm the anxiety (and for the most part it’s worked, I don’t rock sonic shockwaves nearly as much now! I was VERY anti-drugs prior to this, so was a major decision for me to go down this path) – and despite my fear of counselling (for valid reasons from prior experience) – I found a local counsellor to go and talk to.  I was punishing myself with massive self-blame, and it was unravelling me.  She was pretty quick to pick up on that in the first couple of sessions – and her questioning me on why I was so adamant on taking the blame for EVERYTHING, and then sabotaging and hating myself for it (when it wasn’t always warranted or even my fault!) - was a key to helping me start turning it around.

I started implementing other techniques aswell - including positive meditation that I’d listen to of a night, and gave myself permission to step back from “the weightloss world” and look after myself for a while.  I hadn’t been able to do that before…  (I felt compelled to help everyone – but then I was hating myself for being a “failure” in the process, a hypocrite – who’d want to listen to the girl who couldn’t even sort her own shit out?!!).  And let’s not even mention the hideous jealousy…  Ohhhh dear god, green eyed monster for sure!    I took myself off dating sites, and I deleted a wad of people from my social networks that I just couldn’t handle ‘for now’ (sorry if that was you, ha!).   I sat on my arse, I ate whatever I wanted, I slept as much as I could and I tried not to let my head go rancid.   I put myself into a bubble for a while – it was time to heal.

So that’s where I find myself today.  Twelve months on from my first reconstructive surgery.  They took about 4kgs of skin off – and in 12 months I’ve put on 15kgs (was nearly 20) – became reclusive – regurgitated some serious self-hatred of times gone by – and learnt some hardcore home truths about being superficial!      My heart hurts for the life lessons I’ve had to endure – but in saying that, had I not gone through this, had everything been “peachy and beautiful” – I’d have missed some of my biggest turning points and experience.  I wouldn’t have found gratitude in other areas or learnt to take the hits the way I have. 

Was it the best thing I've ever done for myself?  Well no - but it has played its part in helping reshape me - physically and mentally.  There are benefits in lesser loose skin - although I spend bulk of my time pulling my undies up now because they keep rolling down over a belly that's out of shape to the rest of me!  I find myself with pockets of fat that weren't there before, with the sabotage-gain and lack of weight training muscle loss - I guess the fat cells have to accumulate somewhere else?!    But I can do pushups now without wanting to hang my head in shame because my gut falls on the floor - which is something that used to send me into fits of tears....  And when I run (if and when I can run these days!) - it doesn't hurt my belly as much as it used to or slap against my thighs  (that's not to say there aren't other issues though - thigh slappage of its own accord is still there!!!).   My body is nowhere near perfect - it's anything but - but it's mobile, and now that I'm back to looking after it PROPERLY - not fueled with hatred or wrong goals - I hope we can start talking again, and make some progress.  I sincerely hope the twelve months ahead can turn this experience into a positive learning curve, and help facilitate some real self-love and acceptance for what I am, who I am, as I am. 

Weightloss can no longer be my main focus.  It’s EGO based, and reflects badly against the person I am within.  It’s superficial and living off the Ego of weightloss success - without having created a tangible, meaningful esteem behind it - leaves you longing and empty.  Let that be my lesson to you all right there!!   My “success” is not found on the scales – it’s in my strength of character, my honesty in myself, my integrity in accountability.   Who I am is not measured on anything other than the heart inside – and as it stands, she’s pretty ok – even with the multiple hits this year that have taken a few chunks out of it.

Would I like a smaller arse?  Sure. 

Do I want to lose this gain and go back to my smallest size pre-surgery?  Yes. 

Will I surrender to quick gimmicks, shortcuts, self-manifesting diabolical obsessive body-smashing or unnecessary starvation to get the results I want?   Hell no.  

Will I have more surgery in the future?  I don’t know.

Will I overcome my twelve months of hurt?  Yes.

Will I be ok?  Yes.

    

One month, one hundred emotions

Close your eyes.... breathe in.... hold that breath.... exhale and release.... Remember to breathe in again... wait, then what?? 

SO much has happened in the past month, I do wonder when it was that I simply forgot how to do the most basic task - breathe in, breathe out - when it became clouded with stress, fear, tears, confusion and frustration that made breathing sometimes feel like a chore...

I KNEW when the Universe started to shake things up that there'd be consequences - I knew I was going to wear these consequences in a "really messed up, but good, way"... but I didn't think it would take THIS much of a toll on me.  I underestimated it immensely...

The last month has been one hell of a rollercoaster ride...  Since my last blog post, I've moved house (albeit next door!) ~ attended the amazing Emazon Convention in Brisbane ~ went on a holiday with a bunch of my favourite crazy online girls and ate cake ~ had (another) pre-birthday meltdown and then turned the big 3-4 ~ and became an Aunt for the first time...  Oh, and my body started to shut down in its usual winter-style - my weight has piled on, and I feel a whole wad of blurgh... !   SO let's begin this crazy recap...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Thank you healing house.."

Moving house was.... emotional. Hard. Heartbreaking... but I had no choice - and the hasty shift from one door to the next before I had to go away didn't leave much room for "downtime and bonding with my new premises."  An intensely emotional weekend all round as I departed with the place that had been my home for over a decade - the place that had helped me rebuild myself, where I felt safe to begin my changes.  I found myself sobbing as I weeded the front garden and stroking the doorframes as I'd walk in and out the empty rooms.  Extremely hard for me to say goodbye to an empty 'soulless' house when the time came, but I said my heartfelt 'thank you' to the walls that had sheltered me for so long, and gave me exactly what I needed when I needed it the most.  The moment I walked into that house I knew I was meant to live there - it helped heal me - and as hard as it is to live next door now (I didn't get that same feeling here), I did metaphorically close the door on that chapter of my life when I walked out for the last time...  That's probably more in keeping with the emotional distress and tears... farewelling a huge decade of my life and closing that door... finally??  Maybe...  or at least beginning to!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Running off to the Emazon Convention in Brisbane a couple of days later, I KNEW I was in for a whirlwind of emotions.  I was already emotionally red-raw and knew I was in for even more upheaval in the heart region.  Emma's workshops are nothing short of HONEST - and it's her honesty and integrity in her message that is what drove me to attend the convention in the first place.  My own beliefs parallel hers, and I believe in her message - she's an incredibly strong woman and I admire her passion in delivering the tools to others to stand up and find their OWN strength in who they are.  THAT is what I was seeking - the strength and capacity to find my feet again - the willingness to break free of my inflictions.  I went to the convention with an open mind and heart - and knew I was going in head first... and I was ok with that.

Check me out with my fake tat - TOUGH!

The convention was.... wow, one word...  intense.  It all began with an amazing pre-convention welcome party - glam up and get socialising!  (I'm NOT good with this at the best of times - don't let the big smile fool you!)  ... but a cocktail or two later, and I was ok - I was amongst 'friends' who were there for their own reasons of self development too - and they were probably as nervous as I was..... yes, no, maybe?!!!   Overall, a fabulous night filled with fire dancers, Harley rides (I missed out, goddammit!!!) and fake tattoos (to go with my fake hair and lashes, ha!)... it was just an awesome start to the events!   ... maybe a little misleading - the "fun" before the work?!    Isn't that around the wrong way.... ??!!

Yep.. !  SO a very late night for me and then a very early start the following morning with a 6am workout - and BAM - let the educating begin!  6am to about 7pm each day for three days - with lectures, training, boxing, mindset and nutrition education, meditation and yoga (for a vague overview!)... wow...   It was all in there - mind, body, spirit - it was intense, purposefully packed to maximise our time and give us the tools to educate and facilitate personal growth and change.

... and it threw me... big time.   The lectures had me in tears - the education had my brain swimming - it challenged my thinking and "brainwashing" and made me question what it was I actually DO want and why I'm still fighting so hard against my own wants and desires, trying to be 'just like everyone else' instead of being ME (and standing up and being proud of that - no "follow the leader" sheep stuff).  I've conflicted with 'programs' and structure now for over 2 years - my weightloss and mental health suffered for it in huge ways.  The surgery and it's poor results instigated another mass degrading of my mindset (because it didn't give me the "picture perfect stomach" media showcased, nor "fulfilled me" when the superficial left my heart just as empty as before!).

Emazon - our courageous teacher!

As per my introduction to the Emazon workshops in the past, my brain went into overdrive.  Knowing full well there's a REASON why I do what I do - and knowing there's also a reason why I now baulk against the confines of what I've done in the past... it's almost a revelation - and not one I'm quite at liberty to openly talk about here (1. because it's far too complex to explain!!  2. because it's so intensely personal, I honestly don't know if there are words to express how deeply rooted these self-challenges are and why it's become so important for me to find the reasons behind the self-sabotage and hatred that I simply can't get rid of - and how CRAZY strong I feel about finding that inner "me" whose been behind ALL my transformation and choices in the past five and a half years...  I simply didn't acknowledge her before - but she's hell fierce - but VERY hard to find...)

.... as I said, incredibly hard to explain!!   Hard to summarise what a STAND workshop or convention is - those that have experienced it will nod and agree!!  Everyone takes from it what THEY need at the time...   For ME: it was about learning to trust myself, to trust and listen to that driving force inside whose been guiding me this entire way.  To understand that my choices aren't always great, but they're subconsciously made for very good reason.  To trust that the universe is playing its part in my redevelopment too - and whilst it stings like a bitch, for the most part, it's because I'm on the path that I'm SUPPOSED to be on.

... and it doesn't follow anyone else.  It never has.  I've never been a follower, always on my own.  And somehow... "somehow" .... I need to start trusting my 'higher self' that she's doing all this for my betterment. For my future. For my heart. For my freedom.

FREEDOM.   Free from the hideous hatred and subjectivity that I'm STILL feeling despite the weightloss and life changes...  and what I'm STILL trying to fight for, even with the meltdowns, the horrible mood swings, the intense up and down thought processes, the total confusion, the debilitating self-hatred because I 'think' I'm doing something 'wrong' because I keep falling short from what I'm brainwashed to believe is acceptable...   She's still in there, and she's fighting... fighting fighting... for my freedom.   Phew... did I mention intensely personal?!!  ha!

Holy mother of god I'm upside down?!!

Our final challenge of the convention was the "Fear Factor" - four obstacles to test us, see if we could overcome our irrational fears.  Fire eating, trapeze, acrobatics and parkour (jumping off random objects - though ours was aerobic steps, but still just as scary!).  I managed the fire eating, acrobatics (at a push - though I baulked at the thought of breaking someone's legs when they had to hold me up!) - the parkour was hard on my wobbly knees and lack of body-trust jumping between spots... but the trapeze had me whipped.  First attempt, I had a full on panic attack and had to lay on the ground, being told to calm my breathing down (there's that breathing thing again!) - and calm down enough to move onto the next challenge.  ... but it came back around, and I was prompted again - did I want a go?  I kept shaking my head 'no', that 'this body can't do THAT! I used to be nearly 200kgs!!!'....    KNEW if I didn't at least give it a try, I'd resent myself and regret it...

My hands were sweaty, I could barely breathe, and my knees were shaking.  I held onto the trapeze bar - and HUNG off it (a first - I've never held my own bodyweight off a bar!) - then was encouraged to try and swing my legs up.  Yep, managed that part, then nearly lost the plot when my knees were being pulled down from the other side to leverage me up - and I thought they were about to break, the pain shooting through my bad knee joints - had NO option than to pull myself up before I became dismantled at the knee-pivot!

... but I did it - I sat up there on a trapeze - I hyperventilated like a pro - and could barely open my eyes (I'm afraid of heights too, haha)... but I did it!   "Somehow" I managed to get down off that crazy thing, and wobble away to go sit on the ground... and all I remember was saying - for what I didn't realise was out loud - was "FUCK YOU 200KGS!!!"  .. then prompty fell on the ground and cried!  Enter here a handful of nearby ladies who wrapped me up in hugs and told me how awesome that was, haha!!

I'll sidetrack slightly here and give you a glimpse of what I've "seen" behind the scenes of Amy...  When I attended my second SYG (Stand Your Ground) workshop in March, there was a boxing training session at the end of the workshop that had us work ourselves into a state of 'alpha' being - where your brain is sidetracked from the mundane thinking of day to day life, and leaves you alert and aware and "clear".  Afterwards, we were laying on the floor in a guided meditation session - we walk down a hallway, see a door, what material is the door made of, the door handle, when you open the door where are you, what do you see, what do you feel under your feet, walk further into this space and meet "you", talk to you, she has a very special message for you...     When I did this meditation session for the first time, my 'visuals' were so intense - my door was wooden, the handle ornate, I walked into a garden filled with butterflies and flowers and lush grass, and my 'higher self' turned around to tell me "Amy, you are NOT alone!"  I cried.  Tears streaming down the side of my face...   My isolation in my transformation has always been questionable and hurtful for me - and at this particular time, that message was EXACTLY what I needed to hear. I am NOT alone.

To cap off my experience at the Brisbane convention following the crazy "Fear Factor" challenges - our final yoga and meditation session was going to prove to be the most intense experience of them all (as though the trapeze hadn't just rocketed my socks off!).  My meditation message was equally as important and incredibly powerful as the first one mentioned above from March.  At the end of the guided meditation, when I "opened the door", my higher self ran over to me with an enormous smile on her face, threw her arms around me and told me how incredibly proud of me she was. I am PROUD.

I laid on the floor and sobbed...  I don't know that I've ever truly been proud of myself for what I've achieved. I struggle with this regularly - all the accolades run off me like beads of water on oil - I question their validity because I struggle to believe it myself... it's "only weightloss" in my head.  BUT here was my inner self - my 'true self' - telling me how intensely proud of me she was.  Did that finally mean that had broken through?  Do I finally believe it?!

I left the convention in a whirlwind of emotions - very grateful for the experience - but very very emotional.  It seemed to drive the insatiable questioning in my head now - all these things I've wanted but not believed I deserved - all the conflicting beliefs in my head and heart...  It had me questioning what I was prepared to 'put up with' from outside influences now and made me question if I actually AM strong, or am I actually the substruct of my own creating?!    In any case, "questioning" is good - the upheaval that went with it, maybe not so much... ha!

~ ~ ~ ~

I came 'home' (my new home) very briefly, and felt incredibly isolated, confused and displaced.  Add to this the pressure of pre-birthday issues, and the night before I turned 34 at the beginning of the month, I was in monster breakdown mode... again.  Me and birthdays have never mixed well - and with so much upheaval in my headspace, so much male-oriented rejection, so many 'issues' with my body and the post-surgery gain...  I was in a world of "I'm running out of time!!!" pain, and a birthday was the last thing I needed - it seemed to just rub it in further that I STILL lack so much, and another year has rolled past... and maybe (maybe?!) I'm just a silent bystander in whatever the hell is going on in this 'life' I'm supposed to be leading?!!  I was ANGRY that I'd worked so freaking hard, and still coming up so short - why did I bother trying to do anything at all?!   Why did I bother fighting for my life, when I felt so non-existent anyway??    ... so much anger and frustration here, and it all came to a crashing halt on the night before.   I wasn't suicidal (very removed from those feelings of the past) - but I questioned why I was still here...  and WHY was I still bothering to fight?!   Very hard night, and lots of tears...  but birthdays still happen whether you like it or not - and I still woke up the next day and clicked off another one.  Again.

The next day was far less intense - lots of online messages, a cupcake at work, and a family dinner...  I survived. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A couple of days later, I was back out the door for my next adventure. A mini holiday on the Gold Coast with a bunch of my favourite online friends - but the day I left I seemed to have packed a wretched headcold to come with me, along with some seriously un-dealt-with emotions and a wad of frustration.  It's a wonder the airline didn't charge me excess baggage with how 'heavy' I felt with all these things swirling around my head... !

... but as sick as I was for the start of the holiday, it was probably the overdose of Lemsip, cold & flu tablets and the (err) bottle of wine (I rarely drink!) that sent me into another big breakdown...  Hiding in the bedroom, bawling my eyes out, being counseled by one of my beautiful friends, I blurted out so much of my sobby hurts that it seemed to release me a little...  Something 'unchained' a bit and I could breathe a little more again (ironic, considering my headcold breathing issues!).  

The girls have an uncanny ability of weeding out smiles - they're a very select group of my extensive online network that I've been lucky to have over the years of my transformation - have seen far more of my private ups and downs - and have hearts of gold.  Our little weekender was so very important - not just for me, but for us all.  It reiterated in my crazy little head that I HADN'T totally isolated myself after all, that my choice of friends are genuine and beautiful, and that in itself, reflects on ME - just as I am in this moment in time... and it's GOOD.

My final morning walk - pure bliss!

I walked 7kms along the walking path next to the beach at Surfers Paradise the night before we left... and was up early the following morning to walk another 8kms through the beautiful beach water.  All I could do was breathe in the beautiful fresh air, feel the warm water against my legs...  My head was swirling with "you have to go home and fix things"... though part of me just wanted to walk and walk and walk...  I could happily have just kept walking and not turned back.

... but reality doesn't let you daydream like that!  I turned around and re-traced my steps back to the girls, packed up and left... but not before we hit the coffee shop for one last 'splurge'... !   I left the Coast a little lighter than when I'd arrived, but certainly not in kilos (haha)...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Coming home, I was greeted with my next big challenge... albeit a beautiful one!  My sister was being induced with her over-cooked baby on the Monday - and I left her explicit instructions to hold off having that late-arrival baby until I was home!!   Her little girl arrived the following afternoon, and I'll admit, the whole experience left me in a world of emotions here too...

Somewhere in my head, at some point in the last 15 years, I let myself believe I'd "never have things"...  like a house, travel, relationship, marriage or babies.  I don't exactly know why - though I was pretty damned adamant about it years ago that it'd NEVER happen.  Up until last year, I truly still believed it too...  til 'boys' started to notice me a little more, and the whole facade started to crack a little...  because I DID want those beautiful things, and I resented the fact that I didn't have them.  When all your friends are married, in a relationship, with kids (etc) - it's incredibly hard to be the random odd one out... ALWAYS.  It's even harder when it's your own siblings, and your 7-year-younger sister is bringing the first baby of the family into the world.  It stirred up some pretty intense emotions, and cracked open a wad of self-hatred for being "too ugly, too revolting, too whatever blah blah blah" into my headspace - that it was ME causing my own issues and why I'm the girl that noone wants - and how I'll NEVER get to have any of this...

Before I get told off or chipped about that 'silly thinking' - it seems I have some pretty solid timeframe issues filtering in on top of that 'junk'.   For instance, if I go ahead with another corrective body surgery (and I need multiple...  can't do more than one a year at the very most because of the health implications, cost and the extreme nature of it all - with at least two of them being major surgeries that I simply can't afford - so we're talking YEARS here if I can ever get to them!)...  there's a few more years I've "lost" during transformation.  If I can't find my own self-acceptance in amongst all that, then "how will I be able to let someone else in"...  Big issue right there.  Huge.   But say someone manages to break through that to show me I'm worth being with.. (which hasn't happened....  but maybe, if I'm lucky?! .. they'd have to be pretty bloody special and stubborn, haha)...  we wouldn't be dropping and having babies immediately...  so lose another couple of years there...   suddenly I'm approaching/in my 40s, and maybe babies aren't even an option for a mangled body, after everything I've put it through?!

Teaching baby Abby the fine art of selfies!!

... see, now it becomes really messy and VERY emotional.  Seeing this baby for the first time - I'm living vicariously through my sister for something I may very well never have...    Mother's Day this year became another sticky point for me for that exact same reason.  I'm not even READY for a baby - I'm still in a massive level of self development here - but "what if I never..." filters through my head and I filter nothing but pain.    Ouch.  Stings.  Hurts....  I cried.  Alot.    ... but holding that little girl is amazing - she has this uncanny ability to turn my foul mood on its head, and bring me to tears not from hatred or self-loathing as is so often the case - but because she's so pure and innocent.  She's pure unconditional love...  and I crave that like nothing else.  I eat that up like sprinkles on fairy bread!  She's a week old, and already she's made an impact on me that I can't really explain...    I don't deserve to miss out on that - and I can't hide from it.  She's already broken down my walls...   She speaks to my inner-fighter and they're conspiring... I can tell already that there's 'trouble' ahead!!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And to cap it all off - I decided I'd had enough of the confusion and ignorance fueling my emotional distress on the body and weight front - and stepped on the scales for some hardcore accountability.  I'm TIRED of this hurting business.  All these emotions have taken their toll in a massive way - and it's manifested in severe bloating and swelling through my surgical line, and a monster gain on the scales.  I'm now fighting off about 8 kilos of pure self-sabotage, and my body is hating me even more for it...   The physical discomfort I'm going through right now is troublesome, and I'm worried I'm doing damage to my body even more by eating myself into food comas and extending an already tender stomach!  The surgery and infection took a massive toll on my health and headspace, and five months later, I'm STILL fighting it - it's swollen and sore to touch - looks unnatural and I'm faced with making a decision for later this year of going under again to correct the issues.  ... assuming I can bring myself to do that again.

I tried to 'start fresh' on Monday (ha! bloody Monday starts!!), and managed half a day of "ok".  I tried again yesterday, and managed another half a day... and again today.   I questioned whether I should re-commit to another program, then baulked at the prospect of having to "start again"...  I'm SO exhausted with fighting - mentally and physically...

... yet that 'tick tick tick' thing is plaguing me, and if I don't make headway and start counteracting the gain right now, it'll just keep damaging my headspace... right on top of all this amazing huge catastrophe of an emotional mess that's going on right above the waistline!  If I don't step up and take charge, then I'll lose my shit entirely....

I have NEVER given up - I REFUSE to give up.  I have fought over and over, I don't always win... but I don't give up...  

So I will start fresh again tomorrow... and I will start fresh the next day...  until I get through whatever this hideous hateful horrible hurtful thing is - because I KNOW whatever is happening right now is MEANT TO BE HAPPENING.   Everything I'm feeling, everything I'm fighting, every tear is meant to be - this is an intense learning experience going on here - and whatever is driving all this instability is doing it because the Amy that's always been fighting inside, is conspiring for even more.   I've meditatively 'met' her twice now - she's a force - and she's fighting...     She told me I'm not alone, it's time I start believing it..  time to step up and fight WITH her...   

Breathe in... breathe out...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

A little quote I read on a friend's Facebook page today summed it all up for me in one beautiful statement:

Refuse to fall down. If you cannot refuse to fall down, refuse to stay down.
~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes

I refuse to stay down.



 

... unless I'm laying on a pontoon in the sunshine... !!

Sweat, 'that dress' and Emazon

It's happening.  It's REALLY happening.  My head has just been BUZZING since the weekend - and nothing has been able to wipe the smile off my face!

This is really happening.


For over 12 months I've been working on "the skin issue".  Over 12 months of fighting against the pain when I ran; the feeling of 'grossness' and 'freakiness'; the sweat rashes; the downward spiral of my mental health just because I LOATHED the body that was "leftover" after all the weightloss.  So bitterly disappointed, given I was still "too big to be a role model" (words that still ring in my ears) - and still feeling like there was something wrong with me...

I've fought my way through this year's breakdown, the subsequent meltdowns, and came to the crashing realisation that I simply couldn't do this alone anymore.  ... and called in for reinforcements. A bold move on my part, given my lack of "being able to ask for help" in the past.  This was strategy - I simply couldn't fight this alone anymore.

So one by one, I aligned myself with professionals - CHAMPIONS - who could help me facilitate the changes in my body and mindset that would help me get further AWAY from the degrading self-hatred that was ruining me.

Four goes it took me to be brave enough to front the Surgeon for the second time (just as I mentioned in the previous post) - and four lots of tears before I walked in that door, he handed me the form, and the decision was made.

... but it still wasn't real.  It felt like an illusion - far away and far too "day-dreamy" to bring me what I needed.  It was an easy escape surely... ?!


So I embarked on the 12wbt - with no other goals than pure fitness-related (given my weight wouldn't budge)... and diligently followed the meal plan the first few weeks.  I was so excited with bringing structure back into play - but a few weeks in, the lack of results (no surprise there - body and I were at loggerheads) and my emotional imbalances took over again... and I fought with it the entire way through the rest of the program.

I felt like a deadset failure.  My weight fluctuated up and down, I'd cry myself to sleep every night, I'd fight with my body and the frustration.  Again, I called in reinforcements.


Working with my Kinesiologist - a gorgeous friend of mine - he deliberately started picking me to pieces.  My body was shot - my headspace was ruined.  They were feeding off each other - and I was getting further and further "toxic" in all aspects, because of it.  So he started working his magic...  Week after week, he'd pick the next ailment - he'd push my emotional barriers (and generally have me in tears!) - and if nothing else, I felt like I had a guiding hand and a friendly hug each week to help me on my way.  It was my godsend.

When the emotions simply wouldn't let up, and my sanity was starting to waver (even more than normal!) - the nightly tears, and losing it multiple times at work...   I was scared.   The fear of returning to a state of depression (like the one that stole a decade of my life) sent me straight to my Naturopath.  My next reinforcement strategy.  I was so relieved when she said I was in a state of anxiety - and as she said, she simply wasn't surprised, given everything that had happened and what I was about to face.  Armed with a bottle of natural pills, I walked out the door.... and the next day, felt the relief already!  I've been on the tablets ever since - and it's already helped ease my nightly-tears, helped calm my nerves, meant I could focus and make rational decisions again, and my eating has improved three-fold.  For the first time in a long time, I was starting to feel like MYSELF again.  These tablets I'll be on pre and post-surgery - to make sure I can stay calm and rational through all the changes that are about to happen.


After booking my surgery, I was determined to make sure my body was at its fitest - make sure I was super healthy before I cut myself to pieces.  I embarked on a self-imposed "50 days of Fitness" challenge - which ended exactly on the 12wbt Finale weekend!  I'll confess, that when I set that up for myself, I didn't actually assume I'd do it... least of all see much result out of it, given I was still doing "the same old, same old"....   boy was I wrong!!

I just went about my usual training - Pump and RPM as my base, a lap of Mount Panorama occasionally on weekends.  I really didn't think anything of it - until I started getting feisty and pushing for higher PBs!  The 16kgs weighted lap of Mt Panorana that I did a month ago is still fresh in my mind - it's one of my proudest HEAVY achievements and it surprised the hell out of me what my body was capable of doing (and OMG I'm still reminiscing about those DOMS the week following, haha!).  My other major achievement, the 30kgs squat track in my Pump class that I now do as my regular weight - I was SO excited about hitting this marker, that it gave me the confidence to step it up to the next notch...  signing up with a PT and hitting the weights room.

I hit my first full session with my new PT on Monday, and am still walking slightly funny... haha!  He keeps asking me how I am, and "at the time" I thought the session was easy - that I was "all good"... ummm.... !!!!!!    He's a huge part of my strategy now too - a couple of sessions pre-surgery (I have one left next week) - and then it's all POST-surgery toning and rehabilitation when I get out.  He will help me reshape the rest of my body - and keep me sane (ie: stop me trying to destroy myself when I can't see the results!) - and I can't wait!   He's a MACHINE - and I'm so excited to bring that into play! 

... and little did I realise - while I was just "going through the motions" with my training during this couple of months, thinking my body was doing nothing (cuz the scales sure as hell werent)...  my body was in a whole new phase of transitioning.  Whilst I'd focused purely on fitness and strength to be super healthy for my surgery - my body was morphing again... !  I was just too distracted to see it!

Reluctantly doing my weigh-in and measure-up at the end of the 12wbt, I was feeling really deflated about the whole thing.  Big failure...  I even waited until it was too late to make the numbers 'official' because I was already believing I'd done nothing.   Ohhhh how wrong I was!   6cms off my hips - THE only place on my body I rarely lose because of the skin... and five kilos off - I was pretty "ok" with that!!!     Hell, I was MORE than ok with that when I saw the photos... (but now I'm just getting ahead of myself.. haha!). 

When I hit Sydney for the 12wbt Finale last Saturday, I was SO enthusiastic for the group outdoor workout!  Armed in our "army greens"  (the 30+ers group uniform!) - I ran out there like a crazy person!  NOTHING seemed to phase me - strutting my stuff in costume (that's a first!) - meeting new people and not wanting to run away and hide (another first!) - and then absolutely BELTING OUT the outdoor circuit (equivalent of a full-on Body Attack class - the one that I NEVER do because it brutalises my knees and I'm too unfit!) - and yet I smashed that out like I had no issues at all!   I was SO hot and sweaty by the end of it all, but totally pumped and left with a giant sense of achievement in my puffed-out peacock-style chest!!

... but it didn't end there.


Glamming up that afternoon for the Finale Party... I didn't really have much "grand hope" on this one!  I'd taken my dress (last time I took three choices because I couldn't make a decision - this time it was just one - and I prayed I'd still fit into by that night!!) - and figured I'd just make a little effort to look nice.  Try and make myself feel better - after the months of thinking I looked like shit again... (!!!! I know... don't say a word...!)

Makeup, eyelashes, hair extensions in - I was just in "experimentation" mode more than anything - just wanted to FEEL good about myself - in amongst a sea of sexy weightloss goddesses... I didn't really think I'd feel that great at all... but I'd give it a go at least.  I'd already tried a few things on at home beforehand, just to make sure I'd have the confidence to do it on the night...  Figured if I chickened out, I'd just go back to basics.

Wiggling my way into my dress as my final thing to put on - I breathed a sigh of relief realising I still fit into the bloody thing (mind games... hate them!!) - then took myself to the mirror.

... and stopped dead in my tracks.

I didn't recognise her.  I did a double-take.  The person in front of the mirror, surely that wasn't me?!  I'm pretty sure I let out a few expletives in my head at this point - I know damn well there was a LOT of OMGs coming out of my mouth!!

My roommate was having her own moments like that - in her tiny brand new dress (she's lost over 40kgs herself, and had a successful 11kgs loss that round, even with an injury) - both of us stood there gaping at the mirror, and loved what we saw!!! 

Too excited to cry (haha, how's that for a first!!!) - we set off for the party!  Fast forward to entering the building, chasing glasses of champagne, nibblies and general mingling.... it was GAME ON for FUN!!!   Manda and I spent the entire night strutting our stuff, DANCING (dancing, dancing, dancing!) and having as much bloody fun as we could fit into a handful of hours!   We were there until the music stopped, and were the last ones in the photo booth before they shut the doors!   We staggered out the front door to the bus on our way back to the hostel, and were so merry (ahem, slightly bubble-induced giggly wobbly... err... !!!) - but we were just on top of the world!   Whilst the bubbles may have played a slight part in that - I do believe the emphasis is truly on the SLIGHT.   There was far more going on here than intoxication.. haha!

... and then there were the PHOTOS!!!   These have got to be some of my most favourite shots I've EVER had taken - I'm so proud of these!   Yes, my body has changed shape again (I have SHOULDER MUSCLES!!!) - and yep, that dress is super flattering and I'm loving the look... but more importantly - I'm HAPPY!!    My face says it all!

But it didn't end there...


Sunday morning, up bright and early (err... scratch the "bright" somewhat...)  - it was off to a special session with Emazon.  Now, I had NO idea what to expect from this - but I'd heard only good things about this powerhouse woman and her "ways" of transforming women's minds...

... and I knew I was in dire need of some help in that department.


I'd been offered a place at the session, and I simply couldn't say no. After the months of mental hell, and despite my strategic help from my CHAMPIONS - my mindset was still stuck in the 'shit zone'.  I knew it was time to try something radical.

I don't really know how to explain what happened during the session - or how to describe what this session actually IS.... but something shifted.  Something magic happened.  Something clicked - FINALLY.

Early on in the course, I was in tears - Emazon doesn't mince her words.  She speaks the truth.  She's a no-bullshit woman, and her philosophies are so acutely aligned with my own... it STUNG to hear those home truths come back into play.  Things I already knew - like the limitations of my "superficial thinking"... the struggle of overcoming the barriers holding me back.

Everyone takes something different out of her class - but my messages were as plain as day to me.  Every time something would come up, it's like a light would go off in my head.  Every. Freaking. Time.

1.  Numbers are NOT my friend - they will NOT make me happy.
2.  I am far more than just my weightloss - this simply does NOT define who I am.
3.  My 'superior self' does NOT tolerate being used.
4.  My 'Red Woman' will NOT tolerate degradation to meet other people's sub-standards or superficial conscripts.
5.  I AM a fighter - there's a strength in me that has guided me through hell, and has ALWAYS known what to do.
6.  The barriers and set-backs have been there FOR A REASON.  Every time I fuck it up, it sends me back to get it right...
8.  There is FREEDOM in honesty and integrity - and I embody both of these things already.
9.  My passion and purpose is already there - it's already shaping me.
10. Who I am, as I am, in this moment - is enough.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

I have others - but I'm still brewing on the power of these as they are right now.  I can match past events and outcomes in my head to these statements - making them even more powerful and the understanding even deeper. I KNOW this was what I was meant to hear - and I know the timing was absolutely perfect.

Her class empowered me - it gave me an energy.  It was pure self-recognition of who I am and what I've done, and what I need to do next.

EVERYTHING that I have done in preparation for my surgery - EVERY strategy and stepping up to make this work FOR THE RIGHT REASONS was validated in this session.  Everything.

I walked out of that room about a metre taller, and weighing ten kilos less!  I felt like months of fear had just been lifted off my shoulders - the "what ifs" were gone.  (What if I still look like crap after surgery and still hate myself?  Why do I feel like a failure and cop out for the surgery?  What happens next when my weightloss is over and I'm not "anything" anymore?  Who AM I in all of this when I feel like absolutely noone?!)

I had three key words at the conclusion of our course that have stuck with me since...  Three of the most powerful words I've attributed to myself, possibly EVER?!


- Validation - everything is starting to make sense, it has reason and purpose - it's "meant to be". The good and the bad - everything!  The hurts and tears were valid - they were there to teach and guide me.  When I do things for the RIGHT REASON - when I align to my true beliefs - the hurts simply don't hurt anymore.

- Consolidation - everything feels like it's finally coming together, all the work and the strategic planning, even aligning myself with my Champions - it's all coming together now.  The fact I can now see WHY I have endured what I have makes this one even more powerful - and simply understanding that trusting myself (faith in that inner awesome driver) is paramount to my happiness....  now and in the future. 

- Humbled - there's a huge sense of relief within me right now.  There's a higher power driving this train, and she's freaking AWESOME.  She's known from day one what we needed to do - and just went about and did it.  She's guided me the ENTIRE way through - endured the heartache, the tears, the tantrums, the self-abuse both physical and emotional.  And she's fought for me, AND against the negative me - time and time again - she's never left me.  She's the fighter - and I'm so incredibly humbled to FINALLY realise she's right there within me.  She IS me.


SO, with less than two weeks left before I head into surgery - I feel like the neurosis and the hatred of the past 12 months is finally starting to subside.  Finally.  All that work has been for EVERYTHING!!

This is really REAL.  No more tears.  No more fear of the unknown.  I'm so incredibly proud of myself and SO happy right now.

Less than two weeks....    !!!!!!!!