Category Archives: Weight Loss/Bariatric Surgery

Up Swing

Things with the bestie are back to normal (thank God).  Life gets weird sometimes and then it comes back around to a good place, that’s just the way it works.  Since surgery, I’ve been dealing with some shit emotionally and it got in the way.  She’s been dealing with shit emotionally and it got in the way too.  Life.  Now if only the both of us and her kids could stop being sick so we can get back to our regularly scheduled chick dates, that’d be pretty awesome.

I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about being the “other woman.”  I have a hard time even saying or feeling like I was the “other woman,” because we weren’t together really (just a couple weeks before hearing from his girlfriend, we had settled on being best friends with benefits).  He was okay with me having someone on the side, I was okay with him having someone on the side.  Of course, being completely HONEST about it was also part of that arrangement (even though it was scary, I was honest about my dating other people while he kept me in the dark).

Since we did do things that would not have happened if I had known he had a girlfriend who was not okay with an open relationship, though, yeah I guess I’m the “other woman.”  What do I even do with that?  Oh I know, give it back to him, because it’s not my fault.

When anything remotely similar has happened like before, I’ve kicked the guy to the curb immediately.  My intentions were different in those relationships, though; and I was not open to being anything but the only one.

I was REALLY close to kicking this one to the curb just like the others, but the friendship I value more than anything with him makes me want to hang on.  Yes he lied.  Yes he hurt my feelings.  Yes he’s broken my trust in many ways.  But sometimes friends do really awful things to us and we still forgive them and refuse to let the friendship go because we’re all human and we all make big dumb ass mistakes from time to time.   I know I have, and my friends still love me anyways.

I had, and continue to have, confusing romantic feelings for him.  Our chemistry is undeniable and always has been, but his immaturity is so clear now.  That immaturity got him into this situation.  That immaturity is keeping him from really doing what he needs to do to get himself out of the dog house (at least with me).  As I keep seeing glimpses of how his immaturity caused this and is playing out since, the romantic feelings I had seem to be waning.  I don’t have the time or the energy to waste trying to help someone grow up anymore, especially if they’re not willing to put in the effort too.  My life is moving forward, with or without him.

The scale is torturing me again.  I’m hovering around 302, 303, 301 and cannot get my ass to #twoderland!  We got a storm that came through last weekend, I had a crazy busy week, and now I’m sick, so I haven’t been walking since my 3 mi. hike out at Red Rock last Friday (to celebrate being -105lbs!).


With stalls courtesy of a lack of regular exercise, it’s looking like the next 100 lbs is going to be the real challenge, my dears.   At least I know I’m up for it!

Surgery is slowly but surely teaching me that I am stronger than I ever knew.  I really hoped that this journey would be transformative not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well; and it is.  I am seeing my worth in a whole different way, from inside.  I am not seeking (as much) validation and approval from outside sources, where it has never been (and never will be) fulfilling.  I am holding my head up high.  I am looking people in the eyes.  I am smiling more.  I am becoming the me that I knew I was and could be.  It’s really quite incredible!

Business is going well, got an article in a local lawyer magazine, and I’m getting some really amazing referrals from the best places.  The next couple of months are going to be really fun too, because I’m going to be back on the radio and am starting a monthly segment on a business show on 4/4/16 (updates will be coming via my law firm Facebook page)!  Life is good!

Have a lovely weekend, friends!

Deliveries and Stalls

Well, my dad ended up coming over yesterday with my niece’s present.  It was awkward and I wish he’d have given me at least a little advance notice because I don’t like when people come over unannounced, but at least it’s done.  I never did reach out to my mom about what she I wanted to do about Christmas, but it looks like she had enough forethought to send my dad on their behalf.  Or she’s reading my blog – always a possibility.  Either way, had my mother showed up here unannounced it would have been even more unpleasant for everyone involved, so I’m really grateful that it happened the way that it did.

In other news, I’m officially stalled at 80 total pounds lost.  As I’m sure you can imagine, I have been totally not okay with the fact that the scale has been stuck.

When I reached out to my VSG friend Misty recently because I couldn’t take the scale obsessing anymore, she said something like “Yeah, it could be a rough couple weeks.” Womp womp womp. Lol  It’s really so great to have friends that will always keep it real with you during this process, though. While I’ve still been watching the scale, because I know this is just part of the process my perspective about the scale has shifted dramatically.  Rather than get bummed about the gains and give up and eat all the breads and go for ice cream (like I have wanted to do and would have done in a hot minute before surgery), I’m pushing forward and refocusing on what I’m putting in my mouth and when.

Besides, I only have myself to blame.  I totally jinxed myself into this stall on Instagram.  Oops.



What was I thinking asking for a stall?!

Ah well. I really did have a great time that night and felt amazing.  After all, this journey is so much more about the number on the scale, right?  For me, it’s about nights like that night, feeling like myself, feeling happy, loving what I’m wearing (polka dots are my favorite), feeling and thinking about anything other than the crazy, negative, awful things that lie in the recesses of my brain.  This process is as much about experiencing life again and getting to know my true authentic self along the way as it is about losing weight and gaining health.

So, while I am frustrated about not losing pounds currently, I know that this too shall pass.  In the meantime, I continue to work on figuring myself out and living the life I was meant to live.

Merry Christmas Eve everyone!

Coming Out of The Fog (Again)

I have been in a quagmire of funky emotions.  Dealing with the adjustments of forming all new – lifelong – eating habits, hormonal changes that come with surgery (didn’t know this until after) and rapid weight loss, getting used to my family being here all. the. time., trying to run a business, and working through the suffocating depression that has followed me around like a lost puppy dog the last three months (since I had to defend my decision for surgery to the one person I never wanted to have to defend it to).  I have been so exhausted and unable to function on a consistent basis.  But I’m finally coming out of it (again).

I guess this is the cycle of life, my dears.  Up and down and sometimes in between.

I think my body is finally adjusting to the decreased caloric intake.  The tiredness lingers and I’m super emotional at the most randomly inopportune times (my brother and I have had multiple fights over cheese), but I’m able to have a good solid, productive, 5 or 6 hours of work done now.  I just didn’t realize how difficult the first few months would actually be after this surgery.  Physically, emotionally, mentally, it’s been very challenging and often in ways that I was not expecting.

My social life has been nonexistent.  I’ve been wanting to join my friends, networking buddies, and colleagues for their many holiday soirees, but I’ve only been able to make it out to a couple of things.  Some days I can do it, other days, I hit a wall and have to rest.  I suppose if I paced myself, instead of trying to hit three things in one week (hey, when you’re feeling good, you gotta take advantage, amiright?), I’d be better off.  Either way, I’m hopeful that everyone understands and I’m trying not to be hard on myself about it in the process.

I’m really grateful that I have my own business, so that I have had an opportunity to recover in my own way.  Sure, it’s been a hard transition and a totally different kind of stressful, especially when recovery brought my business to a screeching halt, pissed off a couple clients, and killed my finances, but it’s temporary.  Now that I’m finally getting around to feeling more normal, life and business can resume (mostly) as scheduled.

Having my family here has been a real blessing.  Getting used to living with an entire family after being by myself for seven years has been quite a change, but they help out so much.  I barely have to do anything around the house and it’s such a relief.  I was praying for quite a while for someone to come swoop in and help take care of me for a while, and having my brother and his family here has been an answer to that prayer in so many ways.

My brother and I talk a lot about growing up, how difficult it was, and how difficult it continues to be.  It’s hard for the both of us to relive the many terrible memories, but it may be even harder for him at times.  I forget that while I’ve been working really hard over the last few years to deal with my our past, he has mostly just tried to forget about it the last 20 years of his life.  He keeps bringing it up, though, so I keep giving him every ounce of knowledge and insight that I’ve gained about dealing with it now. I have certainly gained some perspective because of our conversations.  I hope he feels the same.

I’m taking a bit of a break from therapy until early next year.  It may not be the best of ideas, but life.  From finances, to getting back into the swing of business, to just not wanting to for some reason right now, I can’t bring myself to do it.  I feel like I’ve talked myself to death about my childhood and my mother, I’m dealing with surgery and post-op life the best I know how, and my energy is better spent on being with my family, working on business, and enjoying a little life for a minute.

I’m learning more and more that it’s okay to take a break.  As long as I’m doing something to better myself and/or my business every day, then I’ve got nothing to be down on myself about.  Even if I’m not as productive, not as busy, not as whatever I wish I had been on any given day, I’m still making strides toward some things that are incredibly important to me – a happy and health mind and body and a successful business.  With those as my requirements, today has already been a good day.

One Month Surgiversary

I have been slacking on my updates, but I have officially hit my one month surgiversary, so I had to get back to it! 

I haven’t really known what to say or where to start the last few weeks. Life has been pretty overwhelming recently (on top of surgery, my parental issues continue, my best friend is getting a divorce, my brother and his family are now my roommates, and business is somewhat slow, putting a stressful strain on the finances) and I’ve been holding it all in. So, while I intend to end this post with the upside, most of what follows is me ranting and raving to get some shit out of my mind and into the ether so I can move on with my life.

You see, surgery has shoved me back into my hole, right back into my introversion and social avoidance, because I don’t know how else to cope. My anxiety and depression have been acting up… a lot. I feel awkward in my own skin, unsure of who I am. I am not practicing good self care.  I’m in my own head waaay too much.  I just don’t think I was prepared for these emotional setbacks. It’s been a tough month and a bit discouraging, I can’t lie.

Getting used to sleeved eating is a pain. Am I chewing enough? Was that bite too big? Is it going to hurt going down. Is it going to give me gas? Have I had enough? Did I eat too much? Will this make me nauseous? Am I drinking enough?

I eat pretty much the same thing every. single. freaking. day.  Protein shake. Greek yogurt. Cheese stick wrapped in a couple slices of lunch meat. Jello/pudding. Sugar free popsicle. For two weeks now (because you can’t just buy a half cup of anything, so you have to make multiple batches), it’s been ricotta bake for dinner. And of course, water throughout the day (sometimes I do mix it up with my fancy crystal light, though).  Bo. ring.  I am a dull and cranky woman eating the same damn thing every day.

I can only stomach an ounce or two of protein, tops, at this point.  If you didn’t know, having tuna salad three meals in a row and chicken sausage for five days straight (because you always have fucking tons of leftovers you don’t want to waste) will legitimately make you bonkers. Trust me on this one.

The most exciting food I have had since surgery has, for sure, been fideo soup (like a damn nectar from the Gods), a chicken fajita burrito, and refried beans (the chips and salsa they threw in my to-go bag hit the trash the second I got home). That burrito lasted me four days and it was the most glorious thing ever. Lol

Drinking enough fluid is challenging. I get busy working and, because I get in the zone, three or four hours go by with nothing. It’s bad. God how I miss being able to chug a huge glass of ice water whenever I get the urge! I was with my friend recently and she took a humongous swig from her water bottle and I almost died from envy. While I have almost mastered a bit of a tiny slow chug, that will probably be as close as I get from here on out and it makes me sad. Speaking of fluids, my skin has been dry and I don’t know if it’s just the usual cold weather dryness or dehydration coming on. I don’t know how to even really tell!

My stomach is constantly making gassy gurgling noises and it’s embarrassing. I was in therapy today and my stomach decided to steal the session, bubbling away the entire time. Gross.

Nausea comes at weird times.  My medications (especially my anxiety and sleep meds) make me nauseous. These supposedly bariatric friendly multivitamins I got make me nauseous too. I haven’t allowed myself to throw up yet (too scared), but a couple 20 minute sessions desperately holding it back and I’m officially not taking vitamins or my medications like I’m supposed to anymore. Neither is good, I know (and certainly not helping my emotional state).

Not having food for comfort is taking some real adjusting. I’m considerably more bored without food and cocktails. I don’t have the entertainment, I don’t have the sweets, I don’t have those things I used to use to keep my spirits up when I was feeling low. I was a hardcore emotional eater, people (like, every emotion could be helped or enhanced with food); and now, despite still having all the same emotions, I can’t eat.

Dodging social and business functions based on food is getting dicey. Seems like EVERYTHING in life is centered on food! Friends who I used to dine with have fallen off the face of the planet. Not being sure how to tell a potential date that you want to meet, but don’t want to go to dinner or out for drinks, without having the courage to really explain why, is awkward. Having to turn down a client’s offer to buy you coffee AND go to lunch is just bad for business.

Food triggers and temptations are EVERYWHERE. With my brother here, my house is officially a temptation minefield. Candy, soda, pizza, twinkies, cupcakes, bagels, juice, fast food… everything I can’t/don’t want to eat or drink is all over the house now and it’s quickly making me crazy. Driving down the street, watching tv, feeling barraged by food and the resulting emotion, anxiety, and desperation is the new norm now. Fml for real.

Physical activity is nonexistant at the moment.  I’m getting dizzy after a third of the walk I used to take. I’m trying to put together a bed frame for my niece the other day (not a difficult project, really) and I’m sweating my ass off and getting dizzy after 10 minutes. I want to add activity to get the maximum from this surgery, but getting dizzy or seeing stars when you try is not fun.  Though my energy levels are freaking zapped since surgery, naps are impossible for some reason. It’s a perpetual cycle of exhaustion.

Oh, and weird development I’ve never seen anyone talk about… I feel like I get stinky way faster than I used to.  My breath is funky and my teeth are filmy half way through the day. My deodorant is also suddenly not lasting like it used to. What the hell, man!

I really don’t want to seem ungrateful, because I’m not.  I don’t want to be discouraging, because it’s not meant to be like that. But there have several been moments I have caught myself wondering why the hell I did this. I see all these incredibly happy people on the interwebs, raving about how amazing this surgery has been for their lives, how they’re working out, eating great, losing like champs, and I feel like I’m doing something wrong. I feel like admitting it’s not easy is some taboo thing that I have no right to be doing. Deep down I worry that my mother was right; maybe it wasn’t so swift to cut out my stomach.

I just want to get back to feeling like myself again. I was doing pretty well staying positive, staying motivated, getting shit done, and having a smile on my face while doing it. Now look at me. Back to my same old mess. Unable to carry a conversation. Lost in my muck. I gotta find my way out of this pit… again.

Btw, for the fuck head who told me this was the lazy way out before I had surgery… you can suck it. For real.

So, time for the some of the upside… I have lost 64 pounds total so far. I broke my first stall without losing my mind. I am down at least a dress size. My underwear are getting loose. My dresses feel longer. I’m starting to see my body changing. I no longer feel the staples in my new tiny tummy. My incisions are healing well (the itching tells me so lol). My ankles aren’t swelling. My hair seems to be holding on so far. And, most of all, I already made it through the first month!

Check out my art and follow my journey on Twitter, Instagram., and in my Etsy shop.

16 Days And Counting (Warning: Foul Language Ahead)

As I count down the days until surgery (it’s really just days left, omg!), I’m trying very hard to put the negativity of last week behind me. I have been a complete mess as I’ve been trying to get my head back in the game (I really should have scheduled an extra therapy session this week), but rather than rehash all the bullshit with her, I’ve got to let it be. I’m too emotional, too hormonal, and honestly, have much bigger things to worry about than one set of toxic voices. I just wish those voices weren’t still so powerful in my life.

I have a couple of theories to share about her true motivation for being a complete shithead and getting my dad (who was overweight forever and ended up with diabetes and painful neuropathy in his feet and legs) so worried and worked up about the risks of this relatively safe surgery that he actually told me not to go forward with it at all.  That’s right, he thought it would be better I stay fat, with all the worse long term risks, than choosing to be healthy at 33 because of whatever it was she put into his brain. Then, she actually tried to blame it on him, claiming HE did research on all the surgeries and told HER! Yeah, my dad, who is rarely on the internet, told my mom, who is always on the computer, supervised the medical department at the detention center she ran, and has always been a wannabe doctor for everyone and everything since I can first remember, about the horror story complications of the gastric sleeve. Right. Okay. Does she seriously think I’m an idiot?! Come on!

Goosfraba.  I digress.  Back to my theories.

1.  She wants to claim the glory of my success as her own (like she has tried to do with my career). Let’s face it, if I actually changed my mind, went with the lap band and lost a ton of weight, she’d be able to hold it over my head that it was her idea and, in her narcissistic logic, that would mean she was the reason I did well. Not all the hard work that I would still have to put in, but her. Fuck her.

2.  She wants to keep me fat. At my young age, I have outshined her in almost every area of life: intelligence, education, career, friends, personality. Being thinner (she’s about 140) is really the only thing she has to compete with me. Getting me worked up enough to change my mind to have a surgery I don’t think I’ll be happy or successful with, or even better, decide not have the surgery at all, would keep her on top. When I lose weight and am a tall, thin, gorgeous redhead dominating the legal scene here in Vegas, she’ll have nothing to lord over me anymore. She won’t have anything to subtly demean, manipulate, and berate me with. I’ll say it again, fuck her.

Of course, since she’s made her opinion well known, if I have one ounce of complication or fail in the long run with the gastric sleeve, she’ll have that to use against me.  But you know what? Yep. Fuck. Her.

Unfortunately, she did accomplish part of her asshat goal – to put unnecessary seeds of doubt in my brain just three weeks before surgery – but that’s where it has to end for me. While her bullshit admittedly had me swinging from the rafters emotionally this week (at one point I was convinced I was going to die in surgery, because anxiety is an effing bitch), I’m turning my back on those thoughts, because they’re not really my own. 

My thoughts are these:

If I stay fat, I will die an early death. If I stay fat, I will never have children. If I stay fat, I will continue to exist in the misery of avoiding booths at restaurants, hating photos, turning away from reflective surfaces, and generally being unable to live life the way I have always wanted and deserved to live it. If I stay fat, I will keep missing out. If I stay fat, I will likely end up as miserable as she is now. If I stay fat, she wins again. I’d be an idiot not to have this surgery, and I’m no idiot.

Am I nervous, scared? Oh hell yes! I’ve never had surgery before and there is a small risk of death in every surgery, so there’s that. I live a busy and stressful life and worry I won’t be able to get my protein and fluids in. I still, and will continue to, struggle with eating my feelings and living a food focused existence. I am terrified of failure in all aspects of my life and this is no exception.

But I’ve got so many things that get me excited and keep me looking forward to being on the VERTICAL SLEEVE losers’ bench. Shedding this fat suit I’ve been hiding behind since I was a kid. Things like crossing my legs like a normal woman. Increased confidence, physical ability, stamina, beauty. Hiking farther than I ever have. Zip lining. Horseback riding. Doing one of those parachute flights behind a boat above the water. Rollercoasters. Getting rid of my airplane seat belt extender. Keeping up with my nieces and nephews. Having the chance to have children of my own. Loving myself more. Learning how to live a healthy life. Not fearing an early heart attack, diabetes, and death. Getting to onederland someday. Putting myself first, finally. Cheap fashion (plus size clothes are effing expensive)! Not feeling invisible. Not feeling like I have to prove myself as capable even more than the average sized woman. Mirrors. Photographs. Living life with more zest, energy and vibrancy than I already do.

I’m so thankful, overwhelmingly grateful, for all the support I’ve gotten here and on Instagram and in real life so far. Everyone, except a few shitty ass people, have been fully supportive of this life alteringly glorious decision I’ve made for myself. Or, if they’re not, at least they’ve been smart and respectful enough to keep their damn mouths shut. And for all of that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

16 days y’all!! Eek!

Check out my art and follow my journey on Twitter, Instagram., and in my Etsy shop.

One Step Closer

I finally heard back from the surgical center this week and got my consult with the surgeon scheduled for August 5! Apparently I’ll get my surgery date at the time of consult, which should be four or so weeks later. So… surgery in early to mid September! Eek! I’m nervous as hell. I’m excited beyond belief. I’m trying to get all my ducks in a row. I’m having a hard time not feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all.  Just have to remind myself (I’m like a broken record in my mind here) to keep taking this process one. day. at. a. time.

I ended up telling my parents about surgery this week.  I struggled with the decision for months and was adamant that I wouldn’t tell them, but it was getting too weird not to. Surgery is a huge part of my life at the moment and it will continue to be for, well, forever. It went over pretty well. Dad was typical dad – don’t go with the first surgeon, it’s a total life change, do your research.  Yeah dad, I know.  Mom was excited (I thought she might be), but of course the conversation with her was immediately about how she wants to be involved and had to include a “no, I don’t need you there, I’ve got this covered.” She was disappointed, but she seems like she’ll be respectful of my wishes there. My parents are intentionally my 5th string on the support team. This is about my own very personal transformation, inside and out; I need to keep it that way, even if it’s hard for anyone else.

Unfortunately, I’m already slightly regretting the decision, because my mom threw around a couple comments about how it’ll be when I lose all my weight yesterday. I had to shut her down, because I try not to think that far ahead and, truly, just don’t want to discuss that aspect of it with her. I don’t even know what my day tomorrow will be like and If I think about all the future possibilities surgery-wise, I get too anxious.  Mindfulness means staying in the present, so I constantly have to reel it in and think short term.  What’s done is done, I’ve got to deal with it now.

Naturally, because the universe loves me, life beyond WLS continues to be crazy.

I’m struggling with keeping my head on straight at work these days. Between almost daily court appearances, boss regularly being out, and an intense caseload, it’s tough. I’ve been a networking mad woman this month too (which is incredibly tiring for this gal with introvert tendencies).  Having a crazy schedule and stressful career constantly concerns me when it comes to surgery, but it’s my life. I’ll figure it out.

I also recently got an invitation to be a contributing writer for a new local lifestyle and culture magazine launching October 3. We had a meeting yesterday, and it turns out that rough drafts are due August 29 and final drafts are due September 12 (all right around surgery, of course)! It’s a great opportunity, but something I’ve never done before. Plus, as I wrote here just the other day, appealing to the masses gives me a brain cramp and serious writers block. Everyone seemed to like my ideas, but I’m definitely feeling out of my element here. Intimdation. Insecurity. Check and check. For some reason, this opportunity landed in my lap, though, so I’m going to make it count!

Unfortunately, because yesterday was an overwhelming day on all fronts, I ate like crap for dinner.  I was struggling with head hunger all day and my fridge is low on easy good for me food (time for grocery shopping), so I went to Carl’s Junior. I’ve been there on this journey and done pretty well, just getting a cheeseburger and nothing else. I fell into old habits for the night, though. I’m disappointed in myself and feel a bit sick because of it this morning, but today is a new day! I’m not going to let it ruin my overall progress.

Slow and steady wins the race! Have a beautiful day, friends :)

Check out my art and follow my journey on Twitter, Instagram., and in my Etsy shop.


I’ve had writers block lately.  I get into this mindset where I desperately want to write something you all actually give a shit to read. I want to stand out as something special to you, to the world, to myself. As more people pass through, follow, comment and like, the harder it becomes to live up to my expectations for that.  In other words, I have forgotten why I started blogging in the first place: for me; for my sanity; for the lonely girl, woman, man or person out there who might chance upon this blog and finally feel they’re not alone.  Writing for the masses is not why I started writing. So, no offense, but I have to forget about all of you.

I have been trying to continue to be patient about surgery, but it’s not easy. Patience has never really been a virtue of mine, unfortunately; when I want something, I go for it and I want results now. And boy do I want to have this surgery like nobody’s business. I want nothing more than to shed this fat suit. I want to do all the things my weight has been keeping me from. I want to be comfortable in my own skin. I want to be beautiful.

I have also been working very hard to get into the right mindset for surgery. No, its not about my jean size. I’ve been tackling my food issues in earnest, and it’s so hard. Eating less, being more mindful about what I eat, when I eat, how I eat, and the hardest of all: why I eat.

Why do I eat?

I eat for a lot of reasons. I eat because I was forced to. I eat for comfort. I eat because it makes me feel something other than the crushing sadness and anger deep in my soul. Well, I used to think eating made me feel good, but that’s not true anymore. Eating does make me feel good in the moment, when my seratonin levels are raging. When I overdo it, though, I feel like shit; I feel guilty, gross, gargantuan. It was this sick self fulfilling prophecy that I used to engage in more than I care to admit.

Eating better, eating less, eating slowly, eating to live rather than living to eat is what makes me feel really good, now. Some days I fall right back into old habits, but those days are fewer and getting farther between. It’s a struggle, but I’m making noticeable progress. I’m down a solid 18 lbs. now, but more importantly I’m feeling like I’m developing a healthier relationship with food.

I have to keep working. Daily. I also have to keep waiting.

Although the gal who did my psych eval said I passed, it apparently takes a week to tell the surgery center that. That week was up this past Wednesday, which means I should be seeing the surgeon any second right? Wrong. Everyone who could possibly approve my chart for surgical consult is apparently on vacation until Monday, which means that surgery probably won’t be until September. Or, it’ll be at a time in August when my friends are all gone and I’ll be alone through the worst of recovery. Trying to still be patient and have faith that God won’t give me a surgery date that will leave me vulnerable and without a support network.

On another note, I almost told my parents about surgery yesterday. It’s becoming more complicated not to. Or maybe I’m just so comfortable with the idea now, I’m not that worried about letting them know. Or is it that I’m feeling more careless? I don’t know. Either way, I didn’t do it. I’m still not quite ready, but I hate hiding things. I hate being silent, but these are the people that made me hate the need for hiding things in the first place. I dunno. I’m still confused by this part, obviously.

So, we wait.

Check out my art and follow my journey on Twitter, Instagram., and in my Etsy shop.