Diva Taunia's Backstage Pass Official Blog

SO HERE'S THE SKINNY ON MY FAT

Ok, let's get something clear right out the gate:  I am not, nor will I ever, be PREGNANT.   That would be a miracle by the sweet baby Jesus himself for two reasons:  1) I'm almost FORTY and in peri menopause, and 2) Rob cannot make any babies anymore, you dig?  So there.  NOT. PREGNANT.  But thank you so much for asking, really makes a fat girl feel good.  :)

And speaking of fat, I guess there's no more pretending:  yep, I gained weight.  A lot of it.  Back when I was sickest and at my lowest weight, all of my doctors told me they wanted me to put back 20 lbs. I did better:  I gained almost 35.  I weigh 170-ish lbs, and seeing that number on the scale KILLS ME.

The thing is, I'm not sure it's entirely my fault.  (I mean, my guess is that the chips I've been devouring on a regular basis are not helping things.)  Back in Jan/Feb, I was put on two new medications, one of which is known for rapid weight gain and bloat.    It took me almost a year and half to get to the doctor's recommended 20 lbs, and it took me less than two months to put on the rest with the help of the meds.  Yippee!  I'm fat again!

When I hit 160 lbs, I felt good.  I felt strong, and I felt voluptuous.  Now?  I just feel sluggish and fat. And I CANNOT. STOP. EATING.  I'm hungry ALL THE TIME.  And while I still have plenty of restriction, I also have almost ZERO intolerances and I can eat just about anything.

Take a gander at the regain process:

ME - CIRCA 2009, at my lowest (and sickest) weight:

ME - FEBRUARY 11, 2011 - LIKING MY WEIGHT AND MY BOD:

ME -  MAY 12th, 2011:

Granted, a lot of my weight gain is in my boobies, which Rob would argue is a good thing, but I HATE this weight.  I'm terrified.  I don't want to go back to 311 lbs, and I feel completely helpless.  I dance DAILY.  I'm exercising more than I ever have, and I'm only maintaining (barely).  I can't stop eating, and I can't stop thinking about food constantly.  It's all back, just in a smaller package.  

I thought by ignoring it and taking pictures at good angles that no one would find out.  That somehow I could magically take the weight off and no one would know.  Well, having a very public wedding with a gazillion pics online will slap the truth right on to ya.  I was called out as looking pregnant on my music page, and that there was a big dose of reality for me. So here it is: my admission, and it hurts and is hard for me, so don't make it worse...mmmmkay?

Accountability has always been my saving grace, so maybe "going public" about it will help me resolve it.  I'm working with my doctors to adjust my medications, and I've got appts with my kidney specialists in the next few weeks, so maybe we'll figure some stuff out that will help.  But you know what else will help?  If I stop eating.  Constantly.

God Bless, Rob.  He puts up with my crazy, loves me at any weight, and supports me no matter what.

I'm just thankful for the other people before me that openly spoke and wrote about re-gain, so that I know I'm not alone and there is hope for conquering it.  Thank you, you know who you are.

So here begins another very public battle with my weight....

CRANKVILLE: Top 10 Words/Phrases/Things I Hate

I am not in my normal joyous holiday mood today, most likely because I have yet to shower and take my pain medication.  I figured while I was good and Grinch-y today, I'd create a Top 10 List of Words/Phrases/Sayings/Things that I hate.   This doesn't necessarily have to do with the holidays, it's just really a way to purge them from my brain.

# 10:  A commercial I heard last night

I can't even remember what the commercial was for, but I remember EXACTLY what it said:  "The holidays are a time when adults are like children, and children are like angels. "   This saccharine overload just made me more sick to my stomach than I already was.

#9:  Every ridiculous, insulting Kay Jeweler commercial ever made

"Every kiss begins with Kays."  Yep, every kiss in the chops with my fists of fury.  Special Recognition / Horror Show from Kay:

 

# 8:  "At the end of the day..."   

If you try to make a point and punctuate it with this phrase, you may have your day ended for you.  Period. 

# 7:  All Business/Office Lingo Buzzword

Whenever I hear buzzwords, I picture our civilization being taken over by robots.  Worst offender for me?  "I wanted to reach out..."  No.  No you didn't.  You wanted to sell me something or bamboozle me in some way.  Just be honest, I'll have more respect for you.

# 6:  EPIC

My step-kids have informed me that is no longer cool to use this word.  Of course, I will continue to say this around them and their friends whenever possible as it is my job to embarass them.  But you?  Don't say it.

#5:  APPARENTLY

This  is only on here because  apparently, my step-son thinks everything is apparent.  My guess is that if he's saying it, all his friends are too, apparently.

#4:  IRREGARDLESS

You know this isn't a word, right?  

# 3:  CUDDLE

Look, I'm a nice person.  I say nice things, and I'm nice to people like 90% of the time.  But I don't want to cuddle. EVER.  And even more?  I don't want to hear about YOU cuddling.  Even typing that out made me wretch.

# 2:  SNUGGLE

I'm starting to think that I may just have violent tendencies, because again, if you say this to or around me, but you may get a knuckle sandwich.

# 1:  YOU/YOU'RE - THEIR/THERE 

I fully admit that I am guilty of this (rarely!) when I'm typing quickly, but there's always a "#%$#%  I can't believe I just made that mistake!" after I've done it.  

I'm talking about the people who honestly have no clue, even after being corrected a million times by the grammar police that patrol the internet.   Do you here me?  Are language is going to pot. Its really important that we ain't being dum, yous guys.   

Commence grammar and spelling analysis of this post.

Love, 
Diva Scrooge 

I'VE BEEN OUTED

Ok, I may as well come clean.  I've been avoiding this for a long time - hoping it would just go away. Alas, with my propensity for making almost every detail of my life public, I can't believe I expected to somehow make it through this without being found out.  Sigh.

Remember how I was taking a big trip last summer to somewhere very secret?  Well:

            

Believe me, I'm just as digusted as you are.  Here's the scoop on what went down:

I was contacted about potentially being on a show, but the show had an altogether different name when they spoke with me.  The show also had an altogether different concept than what this show is about.  It was about getting your dream wedding, and yes, plastic surgery if you wanted BUT, the focus on my "inspirational story" was really pushed harder than the wedding and way more stressed than any mention of plastic surgery.  They made a VERY BIG DEAL about how inspirational my story was, and I was led to believe that the weight loss itself, the journey I had been through with the hospital and everything else was a story that would be interesting.  Wrong.

Now before you judge me, hear me out.  I lost my job well over a year ago, and since then Rob and I have been struggling to make ends meet.  When I tell you we barely get everything paid each month, I'm not kidding.  I'm lucky enough to have someone who loves me enough to support all the volunteer work I do each week because he knows how passionate I am about it,  and were lucky enough to still have a roof over our heads.  So when I was contacted about the show initially, I thought two things:

1.  This is probably the only way Rob and I would be able to afford a wedding.   We don't want anything glitzy (they didn't like it when I said that), but being able to celebrate with the friends and family we love is SUPER important to us.  We thought this may be a way to make it happen. (And no, we're no different gazillions of other people in this country right now.)

2.  I have been denied coverage for reconstructive coverage of any sort.  I have at least 15-20 of extra skin hanging from my body.  I wake up in pain DAILY.  I'm in pain DAILY.  The thought of having that done and covered?  SIGN ME UP.  I honestly cannot even remember the last day I had where I did NOT have back and neck pain - it's just part of my every day routine now.  The thought of that ending was overwhelming, and I saw an opportunity and wanted to try.

The production assistant screwed up before we left, sending an email out to all the girls slated to be on the show (without BCCing, so all email addys were revealed).  Being a Google and Facebook detective, I quickly found out my competition.  Twenty-something bikini models.  It wasn't looking good for me, but I thought that maybe my late-bloomer weight loss-bride story might be interesting enough for me to do well.

Now fast forward to me arriving in "Hollywood."  I was immediately stripped naked for the whole crew to exploit.  Yes, I knew it was coming but I had no clue how deeply and emotionally that would affect me.  Honestly?  If I had known I'd come back in the near-suicidal state I came back in, I would never have gone.  But, I went there a bit naive about my own coping abilities. (And now? I'm in hard-core therapy, yo.  At least FINALLY getting some help was a good thing to come out of this.)

When I was in with the plastic surgeon, I looked down at the desk and saw the title "Bridalplasty," on the doc's folder.  I immediately knew that this was not how they sold it to me, and I felt really embarassed that I had been so naive and so ready and excited to go.  One of the production assistants realized what I had just seen and tried to cover it up by saying they kept changing the title, but I knew what was going on, and I knew it wasn't good.

I also knew by the time I put my clothes back on, that I was not going to be on the show.  The surgeon told me that my surgery was very extensive, and recovery would take a very long time and because of my kidney issues, it could potentially be a risky surgery. They had previously told me what the production schedule and airing schedule was, and I knew as soon as he said that, I knew I would not be on the show.   The night before I flew home, they knocked on my door at almost 11pm (after I was already in bed) and told me that I had a 7:30 am flight back to NH. And honestly? I was relieved.  

So there you have it.  Yes, it's Bridalplasty.  Yes, it's horrific.  Yes, I was naive and not thinking clearly when I made that decision and things sometimes things look way better than they actually are.  In my case, I was lucky enough to be sent home and not part of it.  And I've been breathing a sigh of relief ever since.

 

WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

Many thanks to Patricia for sending me this. 

If you saw someone overweight being berated in the grocery store, what would you do?  If you respond to this and are comfortable indicating it, I'd also be curious if you are overweight or thin, and/or if you've ever struggled with your weight.   I'm going to reserve my comments for now, but we are DEFINITELY talking about this on the show tommorrow, so I'd LOVE your feedback.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF MY COMPLAINING...

I admit it: sometimes I get in a mood and complain a bit.  Ok, a lot.  Rob tends to chalk it up to the awesomeness of peri-menopause, but a lot of the times, I'm also just RIGHT.  Because he gets to get up, drive in a car away from the children and spend 8-10 hours with adults, I think he sometimes forget how attention-sucking they can be and how much time I actually devote to taking care of them, the house, the dogs, AND working all day long.  Not that he doesn't appreciate it, because I know that he does and he's REALLY good about verbalizing that, but sometimes I think he doesn't GET IT.   That maybe he thinks I'm being dramatic or bitchy, or peri-menopausal-y.  

So I decided to log the day.  Not even just for him, but for me.  Maybe I AM just being cranky and dramatic.  We're about to see.  Let's start:

7am:  wake up.  Rob is gone to work already, and both kids are asleep.  An hour to myself!  JOY!  I make my coffee and sit down to the 10 gazillion emails I have to answer.  One hour spent answering about 1/4 of them.

8am:  wake Britt up and get her ready for camp.  I make her toast while she gets dressed.  She then needs my assistance figuring out an outfit to wear because 1) she's still sleepy and 2) she has no idea how to match clothing.  I then run and wash my face and brush my teeth, throw on some deodorant iron my shirt, and get dressed.  I remind her to do her medicines and brush her teeth.  We're out the door at 8:30, and I drive her to camp.

8:55:  back at the house. I finished getting dressed and do my hair and makeup.

9:15:  Tylor wakes up because the phone rang in his room.  I make myself some toast and head downstairs to answer more emails.  

9:37:  I'm actually surprised that Tylor hasn't asked me for breakfast yet.  I swear the kid is holding off just to make me look bad in this journal entry.  I'm having to fight my OCD and NOT go upstairs and wash the sink full o' dishes that someone left for me.

9:39:  Heh.  I knew it.  "Taunia?  Do you think you can make a smoothie for me?"  I'm off to the blender.

9:42:  Rob calls.  "Can you do me a favor and run out to the car?"  ...

(Informed him of this journal entry...and my little experiment.  Don't worry honey, this is not about you not appreciating me, I know you do.  This is more about the accuracy of my bitching.)

10:04:  Holy crap.  How is it after 10am, and I still haven't even started working yet?!?  Just finished making Tylor's smoothie, getting Rob's stuff from the car, calling him with that info, and of course doing the dishes - because I just couldn't walk by them again and they were driving me batshit crazy.

Also realized?  Totally my fault.  I came upstairs and Tylor had put the ice, yogurt, strawberries and milk on the counter.  At almost 14 yrs old, he's totally capable of making his own smoothie, but because I baby them, and because I'm too controlling and know that he won't clean up afterwards, I do it for them. Absolutely zero right to complain about this.

10:06:  Going to attempt to do a few hours of RRR work, then I'm headed to a cafe to work in peace and get some Backstage Pass Work done for next Monday's show.

10:57:  I hear walking and pacing around in the living room above me.  Door opens.  "Excuse me, Taunia? Where did you say you put my leftover extra smoothie?"   Uh, in THE FRIDGE.  I knew the kid wouldn't make it an hour without interrupting for something. It's like he can't even help himself. GO OUTSIDE AND PLAY! Oy.

11:46:  I've actually gone almost an hour uninterrupted - MIRACLE!  I decide to go upstairs and make Tylor some lunch and let him know I'm going to a coffee shop.  And then the barrage of questions come: Where?  How long will you be gone?  Why are you going there?  What time will you be back?  Can I go to my friend Dan's house?  Should I call you when I get there?  I wish I was kidding.  He's OCD about time and details the way I am about , well, time and details.

I tell him I want him to read today for a minimum of 45 mins.

11:58:  Door opens:  "Taunia, I'm going to start reading now."

11:59:  I start pulling out my own hair.

12:44:  Door opens:  "Taunia?  Can I play video games now?"

12:46:  Door opens: "Taunia?  I'm going to go to Dans."

12:47:   Confirming that it's almost impossible to concentrate in this house.  Packing up to go to the coffee shop.

1:52:  It's becoming more and more clear to me that I am really the source of my own frustration and ridiculousness.  It's also become clear that the problem is NOT the kids, but the fact that I'm cooped up in the house (and more importantly, the basement) all day long working.  Here's where I'm at:   Barnes and Noble Cafe.  WITH Tylor.  Yeah, I know.

I just felt bad because the poor kid is home on vacation and there's literally NO kids home to play with.  (Sidebar:  where do all these kids going during the day?  It's like they're freakin' VAMPIRES.)  Rather than leave him home to just sit and watch TV, I figured I'd hook him up with a laptop, and bring him to B&N - that way, he could read if he got bored.  I gave him the "there's no talking to me - I'm working" speech.   So far, we've been here 20 mins trying to get connected to the wireless and get some grub.  (Oh, and B&N?  $15 for a bottled water, a cookie for the kid, a half sandwich and small cup of chili...are you KIDDING ME?) 

But here's the thing:  I feel relaxed.  I'm out of my house, there's tons of sunshine coming through the window, and I don't feel bad for ditching the kid at home.

2:00: Back to work.  Cafe-style.

3:20:  Ty's computer connection stops.  We spend the next 15 mins trying to re-connect to no avail.  Commence the constant barrage of "when are we LEAVING" questions.

3:55:  I decide that I cannot take another ETA question, and pack up my stuff to go.  We hit the rest rooms and get in the car to pick up Britt from camp.

4:25:  Pick up Britt from camp.

4:40:  Stop at Market Basket to pick up stuff for tonight's dinner.  In-store battle for ice cream flavor begins.

4:55:  I tell the kids to go outside and play, because I need some peace and quiet and alone time while I start dinner.

5:05:  The kids are BOTH back in the house, in their rooms, watching TV.  "There's nobody outside to play with."

5:06:  I start prepping food for dinner.

5:16:  Rob calls to tell me he's on his way home.  Children then come out to ask me questions.

5:23:  I send them back in their rooms.  I'M TRYING TO COOK.  And BE ALONE.

5:55:  I finish cooking dinner :  corn on the cob and pork on the grill, salad, and potato salad.  Lots of running back and forth from kitchen to grill outside.

6:45:  Finish dinner.  Clean up and change into jammies.

7:15:  Play pictionary with the kids for an hour. Tylor and I get our butt whooped.  Interrupted by a few business calls for me.

8:45:  Game ends, everyone goes to watch TV.  An hour-ish of vegging out and watching a pure-guilty pleasure:  The Real Housewives of NJ.

10:00:  We put the kids to bed, then we put ourselves to bed.

TODAY:  Wake up.  Repeat.

Check back.  I'll be updating this sucker all day.  

A PAINFUL SECRET

Most of you know that I've been struggling a bunch lately with post-op gastric bypass life - at over two years out.  For anyone who might be new here, here's a brief recap of my bariatric and kidney adventures:

3/25/08: Had gastric bypass surgery.  Highest recorded weight?  311 lbs

2008-2009:  Life-threatening chronic kidney shiznit kept me in and out of the hospital for the better part of a year, on heavy narcotics, and barely eating.  Ever. Lost bulk of my weight:  taking off over 160 lbs.

2010:  Put 9 lbs back on from my lowest recorded weight after I got better (yay) and started being able to eat again.  Regularly.  And more.

NOW:  Struggling with being able to eat more in volume, and in general.  

I'm a binge-eater, I always have been.  And what I realized today is that I have been stuffing myself to capacity lately, and do you know why?  Because I can.  Because it doesn't hurt nearly as much to eat until I'm stuffed.  Because I'm stressed, overworked, and cannot figure out how to deal with that without using food, although I'm working on it.

But as I realized today that I was full and NOT feeling like someone had stabbed me in the guy with a samurai sword, I thought,  "oh CRAP.  THIS is why I'm having trouble.  Where is THE PAIN?"  Well that and the fact that I clearly lack self-control.

I know a lot of you know exactly what I'm talking about, but some of you who are in the sunshine-y goodness stage might not. (That only happens to people who don't appreciate the surgery!  Who haven't had therapy! I would NEVER let that happen to me!)  And the thing is, I'm looked at as a "success story"  which I am and still feel really positive about, but I'd be a total jackass if I didn't keep it honest and let you know:  there's a pretty good possibility that you may struggle with this too.  The honeymoon is over.  *sigh*

Lane Bryant Says ABC, Fox Censored Plus-Size Lingerie Ad

I think we gots us a double standard.  Lane Bryant or Victoria's Secret.  Apparently, Fox and ABC will decide FOR YOU.

LET THE SHIT-STORM COMMENCE

A few days ago, Melting Mama exposed a "Bariatric Advocate," who proudly introduced herself as the "Face of A Bariatric Program."  MM was calling her out on some pretty horrible remarks this woman made on the Obesity Help message boards:

This, in turn, spurned a shit-storm of hate directed at this lady.   Part of me feels a little bad for her, because I think part of her intention was to try and find a tactful way of dealing with it, but really, she just thought she was being funny and didn't even realize how discriminatory was she was being about the people she advocates for.  Quite honestly, it made me furious to read not only because of her blatant disregard for the people she "helps," but because she, as a former fat-person, was being judgmental and discriminatory in the same way that she had probably been for most of her obese-life. (She has since deleted the post.)

And this is not the first time I've read/seen/heard this.

Unfortunately, I stopped reading the OH message boards and visiting obesityhelp.coma while back.  It seems like there were constant battles, constant insults, and really snarky people there.  Additionally, my contacts there - who I had formerly done some promotional exchanges with - just suddenly started ignoring me, my emails, and the winners of the prizes that they had promised on my radio show.  Not cool.  Not professional.  (And yeah, I'm still a little peeved that they asked me to be a feature in the magazine, with several emails back and forth, me taking the time to answer all of their questions and phone calls, and then being blown off  - with zero explanation.  If you don't like me, that's cool, but at least have enough respect to send a polite "no thanks" email back.) I want OH to be a positive place for me, but it never has been.  I get too disappointed by what I read there.  Anyhow, I disgress...

I keep feeling blown away by some really judgemental comments from people within the wls community, and this isn't limited to OH, it's everywhere.  Here's are a few examples:

"as I said "I FAILED" and I would NEVERhave RNY. I am healthy even tho i'm overweight and will just stay where I am at this point. I've seen wayyyy too many health issues with RNY and would choose being in a size 14 over those issues"

"The lady that does my mom's hair had RNY and sure doesn't look like she has.  I think she's put on a bunch of weight.  I was telling my mom some of the things that I'm not supposed to do after surgery (drink pop) and she said "the gal that does my hair drinks a ton of diet coke".  So I'm thinking it can't be the diet coke that made her put weight on (could it?) I'm guessing she isn't following the rules - and I have no clue how far out she is,,, 4+ years I'm guessing. "

Ah yes, the age-old "she's not following the rules."  We're always so ready to launch a verbal grenade at one of our own because we can't even entertain the thought that the choice that we've made, the surgery that we've placed all of our sanity and emotional strength into, can't POSSIBLY NOT be the miracle-cure we were hoping for.  And are there people who don't follow the rules?  Absolutely, I'm one of them.  Will you be one of them too?  Yep, so maybe you shouldn't be so quick to judge.

A few weeks back, a well-known You Tuber had posted a picture of a girl wearing tight pants.  Apparently, she thought this girl should not be wearing them because she was on the chunky side.  I just thought that was INCREDIBLY judgmental.  To actually take. out. a. camera.  Oy.  And what was worse was that there were a gazillion comments joking and making fun of this poor girl - from the WLS community.

And then there was my Susan Powter video.  I actually had a debate with a good friend of  mine who felt incredibly upset by the comments she read on this video.  I had spoken about some comments that Susan made and that I had disagreed with.  The comments that followed - OH. MY. GOD.  Hateful, nasty comments towards Susan.  I had to do a follow-up video because of the hipocracy of it all.  My friend's point?  The WLS Community wants understanding and acceptance.  We're never going to get it if we turn around and launch verbal attacks on others that don't agree with us.  You can certainly disagree with her and her opinions, but throwing hate at her?  How is that helpful?  I don't get it.  I couldn't believe the amount of people who were ready to attack her in the nastiest of ways. You can do both:  disagree AND be respectful.

Look, I'm not perfect, I've judged too, I know I have.  It's hard not to because that's the kind of society we live in.  Our media gloats when there's "failure" and exposes that for every embarrassing second it can. I think you have to be pretty damn-near perfect to not fall into the trap of the "omg, what happened to him/her!" mentality every once in a while.

BUT.

I think that this is a perfect example of "remember where you came from."  Remember how it felt to be judged, to be stereotyped, to be looked it, to be made fun of.  REMEMBER IT.  Just because you've lost weight does NOT give you the right to pass judgment on someone else.  And geezus, in the very same community that you yourself came to/go to for support.

I know snarky can sometimes be funny, and I know that we can make fun of ourselves and each other in a loving and supportive way too.  But judgmental comments like the above stuff?  Not funny.  Not helpful.  Not good.  We've got to work to be better to each other.  Weight loss maintenance isn't a one year or two year thing, it's for life.  Support is needed FOR LIFE. 

We need to give what we get.  Myself included.  I do my best to be a positive role model, but I'm human, and I slip sometimes too.  But I'm working at it, as we all should. 

Come on, lovelies, we're better than this. 

CLARIFICATION: "FAG"

Let me state it for the record right here, right now:  NO, I do NOT support the use of that word.  Should she have said it?  No.  Is it mudslinging?  Yes.  Is it wrong?  Yes.  Do I agree with her choice of words? No.

You all know that I love my gay boyfriends.  You know that I support gay rights and civil liberties.  You know that I would never, ever, ever do something to hurt my peeps.

But apparently I did.

But not denouncing the use of that word, I gave power to it's use, and for that, I am sorry.

Respect.  Give it, get it.  Be nice.  End of story.

IT'S NOT ALWAYS SUNSHINE AND ROSES...