I look at myself (metaphorically) and feel a sense of disgust and sadness, its going to take so long to get rid of this fat. Too long… I feel that I will never to be free of it, never have a change to be “me”.
How do you change when depression holds you back from change and making the change is going to take so very long.
I have at least registered with a local GP today, and once the registration is complete I think I’ll go and talk to them about getting back onto the bariatric list.
Early last year I managed to get onto a list, but because a fuck-up at the hospital they removed me from the list. Its only now that I have enough strength to ask for help again. But, will there be a place for me, I dont fit all of the criteria, and most of all I’m a working aged male, we do fair so well in the NHS.
One step at a time… Oh, what a fucking tiresome phrase, I wish I could just get things sorted, have the surgery, have the cosmetic surgery and then get back to having a life before I’m ready for the knackers yard.
I have, in recent days, started to compile a wish list, almost like a bucket list. Things I want to do for myself. Its been some time since I’ve wanted to do something for myself, or that I felt I could deserve something for myself. I will post said list in the coming days, hoping that by doing so, it acts as a public statement that I want to be a sexual being. Nearly 20 items so far. Gulp, there is still so much I want to try sexually. But will 47 year old me have time?
ᗷIOᑎIᑕᗷEᗩᖇᑌK 