I just had a little breakdown over my body, the kind that's bad enough to make me cry, but not bad enough to completely incapacitate me. And when I got up, wiped off my face, and set about bustling to take my mind off my thunder thighs, I realized it had been a pretty long time since I'd cried over my size. I don't mean that I've been particularly happy with my body lately – on the contrary, I've been far too inactive, physically, and far too lax about snacking and such, and as a result I've been feeling a bit like a blob. But I've been too busy to dwell on it, really. I'm working a lot , and thinking about the book process, and trying to be more social and spend more time with my boyfriend (we had a period of not seeing each other much and it was hard on our relationship), and I just haven't had time to indulge my negative thoughts much. I mean, I've had them, a lot of them, but then something else has come up and I've had to re-focus....
Life after Gastric Bypass surgery