Parts.

It’s pre-op diet eve.

We went to Black Bear Diner. I ate a chicken fried steak dinner. I can’t sleep. I’m scared. I know what tomorrow brings. I know when I wake up it’ll be Day one.

I went to my therapist yesterday to process my feelings and emotions of what I’ll be going through. I’ll share some our $125 conversation.

Me “I’m going to get a sleeve”. Therapist “I support you 110%. That’s exciting. I’ve been wanting you to do this for several years now. I just didn’t know how to tell you”. My thoughts “wow, you’re rude, but I am really fat”. Me “I feel like this is the easy way out”. Therapist “umm…there’s absolutely nothing easy about what you’re going to go through. In fact, this is one of the hardest things you’ll have to do”.

Me “shit”.

Now, I know why I don’t want to go to sleep.

I hate doing hard things. HATE.

She asked “how are you feeling about it”? (She’s a therapist. That’s what they spent all their money on getting a degree on). Asking “how do you feel”? Not sure why you need a degree for learning how to ask that question. That’s beside the point. The point is this. I have parts. My answers were: “I am angry. I am pissed. I am discouraged, depressed, and down. I feel like a loser”. I have all negative feelings towards this. She asked “any good thoughts or feelings”?

“No”, I said.

Parts. We have parts. You have parts. We’re not all or nothing. There are parts of me that have all this negative emotions. She pointed out to me that “my eyes lit up when I talked about it”. I was counseled to find the parts of me that were positive about it. I did. Part of me is excited. Part of me has hope, faith, and confidence in this. Part of me is excited and can’t wait and believes this is the right decision for me. I am hopeful.

Part of me wants to cry. Part of me also wants to go back to Black Bear Diner or Golden Corral tomorrow.

I have parts. So do you.

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