Pushback

I’ve come down with a miserable cold. I feel like hell. And now I’m up at 3:00 in the morning, angry. I won’t get into it.

This has nothing to do with why I’m upset, but I can tell my father has been talking to my stepmother about the surgery, because when I first told him, he was supportive, and now he’s asking lots of questions, such as, “Why wouldn’t you just take Ozempic?” And “Can’t you gain the weight back if the old behaviors come back?”

What I need right now is for my social network, family and friends, to believe I will be successful with this. I can’t tell you how many people have brought up the weight regain thing. It is exactly what I don’t need to hear. But you can count on my stepmother to always go straight to the worst-case scenario when it comes to me.

Look how many people have done well with this program. Nobody cares about that, though. Everyone is certain I’m going to fail. How is that supposed to make me feel about myself? About them?

I tried to get medication. My doctor’s office said they don’t prescribe it because of the high demand. Bizarre as that is.

I’m in this whole behavior modification program, aren’t I? And for the most part, I’m actually doing well with the behavior change. I have slip-ups here and there, like anyone, but look at all the positive changes I’ve made. No soda. Very low sugar. I’ve curbed the nighttime eating. No binges for I don’t even know how long.

Anyway, she’s never been overweight. What does she know about this? Not nearly as much as she thinks she does.

I’m just over all of this negativity.