I Guess I Take After My Mother…

Lonely nights are the worst.  Lonely nights are made even worse by listening to Dallas Green. I’ve always been the type of person to have really emotional reactions to songs. I can recall nights where I haven’t slept because I listen to the same song over and over again.

tumblr_m7a1hod8Eg1rqrbrao1_400This song, I could listen to it all night. I’ve been thinking a lot about my parents lately. For a lot of reasons I suppose. Part of it is examining my own dysfunction, why I’m the way I am. Another part is worrying about carrying on a fucked up maternal legacy. All my life I have fought against being like my parents in one way or anther. When I was younger my impression of my Dad was this stern, immigrant authoritarian. There was a time in my life that I thought I hated him. Part of it was my youthful rebellion I’m sure, and part of it was that we just didn’t understand each other. As I’ve grown up and now that he sees me as an adult rather than a petulant child we’re cool. I can talk to him about nearly anything and I know he’s always willing to help in out of a bind. Our relationship is uncomplicated now. Nothing but love, and no matter how many times I fuck up I know I’ll always have his support.

Then there is my Mom. It’s been nearly 3 years since we’ve spoken to each other. You could say I have mommy issues. The way she has raised me has me so fearful that I would make a terrible mother. Her mom was awful, and she is awful, and I feel like I may be doomed to repeat their failures. There is this notion that mothers have this unconditional love for their children, that somehow the birth of a child changes their being. That didn’t happen with my Mom. She had me simply as a way to trap a man who was cheating on her, and clearly no longer in love with her, and admittedly had my sister for the same reason. My mom was never the kind of person to give her affection freely, it was only doled out when it suited her. I don’t know if her maternal shortcomings are all her fault, part of me knows that there is some sort of chemical imbalance going on. This is a woman who could work 7 day stretches as an RN but lay in bed all evening, not concerned that her children hadn’t eaten. I remember being so broke in University, and pretty much begging her to buy a textbook for me and her telling me no, but having no problem bragging to her friends about my academic accomplishments as though she had some hand in it.

And I wonder, was it because she didn’t have a good mother? How much of this is hereditary? Is she incapable of putting another person before herself because my Grandmother couldn’t do that for her? It scares me. Having kids is the only thing in life I’ve ever been 100% certain about. But I worry that I’m going to be a shitty mom, that I won’t be able to be selfless. Can someone who didn’t have enough mothering be a good mother? I mean, it’s not like I didn’t have loving women in my life, I had my Grandma Juliana, my aunts on my Dad’s side who have all doted on me my entire life. Is their influence enough to erase 26 years of dysfunction that my Mom has caused?

My main reason for wanting to have the surgery is because I wanted to become as healthy as possible before having kids. I didn’t want to be obese, developing gestational diabetes and giving birth to some 10 pound baby. But now I worry more about being a shitty mom, and in that case should I even have children? And as much as I try to deny it, I there are characteristic of my Mom that I sometimes see in myself. Usually it’ll be in phrases I say or words I use. I catch it and it scares me. I feel like maybe there is more of her in me that I’d like to admit, and if there are those latent characteristics, maybe more will emerge when I have kids. So many of my insecurities stem from her. I’ll never think that I’m good enough and I will always second guess myself. I hate that about myself. I hate that I have to seek approval from other people because I never felt it from her.

I think about reaching out to her from time to time. But she refuses to ever accept any responsibility for anything… ever. She is the consummate victim. I try not to think about her, to put her out of my mind as often as possible. Especially after this summer when she accused me of vandalism (apparently I picked up a boulder and put it in her driveway, 7 days post-op no less). Lately though these thoughts have become more and more prevalent.


Meet Me Halfway

I’ve been awol.

Being unemployed really took the wind out of my sails (among other things), and I just didn’t feel like expressing any of my feelings because they were almost all negative.  But now I’m in a better head space. I have good people around me, one in particular who continues to be continually positive, even when I don’t necessarily deserve it.

So here I am, nearly 4 months post op. 84 pounds of weight that I’ll never see again.  66 pounds until I’ve met my ultimate goal. The thought is crazy. If you would have asked me a year ago if I thought I’d be 84 pounds lighter I would have called you a liar. But here I am. I would have been a freshman in high school the last time I was this weight.

Aside from feeling lighter, there are so many physical aspects that I’m starting to notice.

  • I can run in kickboxing, and keep up in general
  • I can cross my legs with ease
  • When I’m stretching I can bring my knees up to my chest
  • Every single piece of clothing I own is loose
  • Even my shoes are loose
  • I have visible collar bones
  • *TMI* I can be on top during sex and not feel self conscious

Of course there are a few downsides;

  • I’m losing insane amounts of hair (I knew this would happen and I’m dealing with it the best way I can)
  • I have no tits or ass anymore (they were the first things to go)
  • I am lacking iron, so I have massive under eye circles
  • Since all of my clothes are loose everything looks kind of sloppy, but I refuse to buy a ton of new clothes until I’m where I’ll be maintaining.

I just want to touch on the hair loss for a minute. The hair loss business has been really hard for me. This is probably because I’m a girl that had jungle hair. I had an abundance of thick, coarse, curly hair. It has thinned out like crazy, and I was getting to the point where after a shower I would have to inspect my scalp because the handfuls that were coming out in the shower were outrageous.  My doctor explained that this would be temporary, that it’s very common starting between month 3-4. So I’ve done what I can do to deal with it. I’ve cut a solid 6 inches off (it was nearly waist length), I’ve made sure I’m taking enough zinc and biotin, and I’ve started using Nioxin. Having worked in the beauty industry before I know that Nioxin doesn’t make your hair grow. People have this misconception that they can use it and all of a sudden they’ll have beautiful, lush hair. That’s not the case. What it does it removes all of the gunk on your scalp and creates an optimal environment for your hair to grow. So for someone like me it’s perfect, but if you’re bald it’s not gonna make your hair come back. It’s a three step system and I seriously recommend it.


But to be quite honest, the hair loss and the changes are completely worth the energy I feel, and the longer life I know I’m going to have because of it. I’m half way there and excited for the rest of this challenge.