I’m just now coming out of a serious 2 day breakdown.
For labor day, we went to Pittsburgh to see Third Eye Blind, my favorite band. I remember the day my dad told me that they were touring close to us again, it was in May right before my health seriously deteriorated. My dad bought us the tickets and I can vividly remember wondering what my disease would be like at the time of the concert. Would I be healthy? Sick? Would I even be able to enjoy the concert without having serious anxiety about where the bathroom was? Not to mention the Pittsburgh Pirates were playing a whole baseball game right before the concert. That meant about 5 hours of sitting in a public place, surrounded by people (which I always looked at as barriers to the bathroom) which meant lines to even get into the bathroom and that could mean a possible accident.
Wow, even typing all of those thoughts was exhausting. That’s how UC was and is, it plays tricks on your mind and makes your body feel the consequences.
After the game and a night in a hotel, we went to outlets in Grove City, which are great! I bought so many clothes that I don’t need, but hey, a girl has to stock up on baggy t’s and leggings, what I’m currently living in. I also bought a pair of jean shorts that are my normal size. Holding them up in the Gap, I thought, “I know these will fit, it’s been 8 weeks. I need some new jean shorts, might as well get them. After all, they are 50% off.”
I should have stuck with my own motto. If you are a girl with an ostomy, jeans are a no go. The button on the jeans falls right in line with where your pouch is and they are hard to button, you could probably be a size 0 and jeans would still fit wrong with an ostomy. You could put on your stealth belt, but honestly I hate putting that thing on. It’s like an extra pair of underwear and why should getting dressed be even HARDER than it already is for me. Everyday I wake up praying that my stomach is flat enough for my ostomy to blend in under my clothes. But let’s face the facts, that’s just not ever going to happen.
When we got home, after trying on a few shirts that I had bought, I decided to put on the jean shorts. They’ll fit, right? WRONG. I could barely button those suckers, cue the breakdown.
When I feel one of these coming, I try to take a few deep breaths and quickly look around for another option that might make me happy. This time, that didn’t work so well. A lot of my clothes were in Columbus, because I am finally all moved in and ready to go back to work. I put back on my usual leggings and baggy shirt with a sweater and went to dinner with my family.
Man, have I done some crying, whining and re-thinking these past two days. I told my parents I feel tricked. I couldn’t eat before the surgery because I was too sick and now I STILL can’t eat because I was pumped with millions of milligrams of prednisone for my surgery which has made me gain 10 pounds. Plus, my surgical swelling is still very apparent in the bottom part of my stomach, which doesn’t help jeans button, either.
Trust me, I have really pissed off my family these past 2 days. I have said and thought it all. “I am done pretending that I like this. I hate it. It’s disgusting. My clothes wont ever fit again. This isn’t fair. I’m huge and it’s my surgeons fault. I’ll show them for making me fat. I won’t be speaking until January.”
I even pulled out the big guns, “I’d rather still be sick. At least then my clothes fit.”
Might I say, yikes. I haven’t heard my mom scream that loud in quite some time.
I am a very impatient person. I have been working out since week 3 and trying to watch what I eat, which makes the the most mad. Why should I have to watch what I eat at this point? That makes absolutely NO sense to me and I’m always quick at blaming my surgeon for EVERYTHING. He made me get this stupid ostomy, right?
Wrong. *REMINDER* He saved my life.
I’m not mad at myself for having this epic breakdown. It was a nice re-boot. Sometimes I do put on a front, like this is so easy, when in reality, it’s SO not. Every single day I struggle with this. But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t be thankful for my life. Getting over the way I feel about myself is going to take some time. Every single doctor I have seen has told me to be patient and my body will return to normal soon enough. I always catch myself thinking, “well soon enough isn’t soon enough, this process needs sped up a bit.”
I went on a walk this morning to try and calm myself down. I realized on this walk that if I was sick I wouldn’t be doing this. I decided that until I am the weight that I want to be, I’m going to be like every other healthy person and work really hard. It’s important for me to be exercising and eating right anyways.
My mom always tells me to give myself a break. It’s true, I have been really hard on the things that I can’t help. I can’t help that I was so sick, that my clothes don’t fit right now or that I have an ostomy for 6 months. This time isn’t about feeling sorry for myself, it’s about trying to understand why this happened to me. To find purpose, learn and grow. It’s ok to have occasional meltdowns, it’s going to happen. Seeing your body change so much is rough stuff, but don’t back pedal. Take a few days, breathe and try find the good in the really bad.
Plus there are so many people that are less fortunate than I am. I’m lucky to have all of my outside still in tact. I’m luck to have my LIFE.
Oh, and about that baseball game/concert that I was so anxious about in May, I didn’t go to the bathroom at all. Well, I did once, and I wasn’t sprinting, crying or praying. I was leisurely walking… to pee 🙂
Yeah, my shirt sticks out a little bit and my stomach, hips and arms are kinda puffy, but tomorrow is a new day and January marks a new start for me. Until then, you can find me at the gym.