The Dr. said that I need to come in for some tests for diabetes and thyroid and while he's at it he'll check and see why the hell I am having such horrible hot flashes. He said some people just don't absorb estrogen from pills and that I may need a patch which would be just fine and dandy with me since I forget to take the little bastard pills anyway. As for the diabetes, he said I am certainly at risk since I had gestational diabetes and I am overweight, but the thirst thing is not the way it is for diabetics. I mean, he said that diabetics get dehydrated because the pee a LOT and then they are thirsty. I am not peeing any for frequently than normal, I think I am just dehydrated because I don't drink.

Basically, he spent an hour with me, talking to me while I wept about the choices I have made (and we in this society make) and living with our choices. He said that for me and for most people, exercise is important for many reasons, but it isn't the most effective for combating chronic weight problems. It's a matter of math. And the formula says I have to take in a lot fewer calories over a very long time...like the rest of my life if I want to keep the knees I was born with. Excuse me while I wipe my eyes.

What made me happiest was that he listened to me. He could have just given me the pills that don't make me hungry or the ones that block fat or the ones that speed up metabolism. But he listened to me and he watched my agony and he felt my pain. He heard me and believed me (because he knows me and he knows I am pretty introspective and honest with myself) when I said that I don't eat more when I am happy or sad, I don't eat to forget, I don't eat for security. I don't eat because I am hungry. I eat because I just can't stop. I want to feel food in my mouth, and I can't force myself to stop sometimes. I am as bulimic as they come except for the purge. I am compulsive. And when I told him it felt more like an OCD, he decided that zoloft was the course to try.

So I popped my little pill today, and instead of playing games with the digital bastard, I will be making lists of what goes in my mouth. I don't look forward to doing that. But I'll do it. I guess this means I won't be 50 pounds lighter for my wedding, but maybe, just maybe, I'll never be this heavy again, and maybe I'll be 50 pounds lighter by this time next year, and I'll keep it off. But that's too far away for me to look at right now. Right now, I just have to remember to take my blue buddy everyday and hope and pray that I can get better.

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