There will never be enough compliments

Seriously. I may go "Oh, you're making me blush, stop" and what I really mean is "Please please keep going, please feed my ego, please make me feel good about myself because I don't know how to do it on my own".

So...let's talk a little about me. I'm a natural red head (as you may or may not know). But I am. Here's a picture from when i was a kid. Yeah, I'm adorable, what can I say?
So anyways. I was teased through out grade school and high school for my red hair. I would suppose it stopped around the end of sophomore year right around...oh yeah, the time I began dying my hair to get rid of the red.
I was never the skinny blue eyed blond that caught the boys attention. What was sad, is looking back to my high school pictures, man I had a great figure. But, at the time, I thought I was fat. I suppose since my friends were a size 2 and I was a hefty size 10, that is probably when the body dysmorphia started. Where you look in the mirror and you see a completely distorted view of what you really look like.

That still happens. I've lost 60 lbs now. Trust me, I know when I say the following statement, I am going to sound crazy, but I don't see it. I look in the mirror and I see my chubby belly and my fat ass.
I've gotten "I can see it in your face, your face is so thin now"
"I can really tell, you look great"
"I've had numerous people say to me have you seen Nicole lately?" (My response, who exactly and what word for word did they say)
"I'm so jealous of you" (Me??? Really?)

I adore it when people tell me I'm pretty or cute or beautiful or that they can see a change. I shouldn't adore it as much as I do...because I should be happy with myself and not have to rely on that feeling.
Maybe at some point I'll get there...but for now, can you just please know that I need you to feed my ego and I need to feel beautiful and keep the compliments coming?

I'll owe you one.

www.nowwhat.com?

I'm three days post op. The high has worn off. Kind of like what happens to meth addicts after their lab blows up and they figure out something went horribly wrong.

Now I'm just kind of here...wondering what I did. It's almost even kind of hard for me to write what I'm feeling. It's that strange.  I'm down 5 lbs since Thursday. Which, don't get me wrong, is totally awesome. It took me like a month to lose 5 lbs before.

Wouldn't it be nice if you could see immediate results? You know, like in I Dream of Jeanie. I mean 5 lbs is great and all, but laying in bed watching TV I saw my flabby arms again. And I wondered if they would ever go away. Also in that point and time I realized I could really go for some pizza. Like, not just some pizza, but alot of pizza. Followed by a juicy bacon cheeseburger. Granted, it has nothing to do with hunger, it's all in my head, but I still want it.

Yes, I get that that's how I got this way....food makes me feel better. I don't know why, it just does. It's comforted me for 30 years. I would take a look at some flabby part of myself and go "What's the difference? I'm chubby already, I might as well add to it." It's confusing why something like that, which is clearly, detrimental, makes you feel better.

It's good that I'm starting to correlate the two feelings...but it also makes me wonder how I will ever overcome it. Will there ever be a day when I look in the mirror and am happy with what I see? Will there ever be a day that I don't just want a big juicy cheeseburger at my disposal?

I guess I'll go make my tomato soup and pretend I'm eating something delicious and juicy.