This weekend I took this picture of Pete:
|Pete heading up the hill at Ft Snelling to where his parents are laid to rest.|
If I'm honest I've wondered all these things for the last month or so. Secretly. On the inside. This weekend Pete seemed to be able to read my mind. He can see how much I'm struggling. How much I want this thinner me. And he asked me what is holding me back from seeking out the band. My number one response is fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the surgery process (I've had some bad experiences in the past). Fear of what my family would say. Only when he asked, I told him that thinking about having it made me feel like a failure. And as soon as I said it I realized that I had insulted him. I had spent months telling him that he was not a failure and not to think of the band like that. Yet, here I was admitting that this is how I would feel. I felt instantly bad.
We ended up in a long conversation about it. Nothing was decided and I haven't made an appointment to seek out the surgery. But it's still back there. I'm starting to think that it may be an option for me unless I can figure out a way to change and see some results. I'm thinking that I need to give myself the summer to work out and eat and re-evaluate my status come the end of September. Time to figure out all the what ifs.