Carnie Wilson scares the crap out of me. She does. I was going to blog about her last week when the news first broke that she had had lap band surgery, but I chickened out. I HATE reading stories like hers. For those of you who don't know who she is, Carnie is the 43-year-old daughter of Beach Boys musician, Brian Wilson and one of the founding members of the girl group, Wilson Phillips.
And, in 1999, she had gastric bypass surgery. And since that time, she has gained back two-thirds of the weight she originally lost. (At least that's what she's admitting to...) She has been on Celebrity Fit-Club, has had a talk show where she attacked the problem of obesity, and last week, she admitted that she has had lap band surgery to try to help her lose the weight--again.
Terrified really doesn't begin to do justice to the fear in my heart when I see stories like hers. First of all, it gives credence to all those naysayers who came forward when I first had the surgery to say "I know so-and-so had that surgery, and she gained back ALL her weight." Second, and more terrifying, is the thought that if she, with all her available resources (money for a personal trainer, personal chef, etc), isn't able to be successful with this surgery, whatever will happen to ME?
Back at the beginning of this journey, I posted that I believe that obesity is more a symptom than an actual disease, and I still believe that. I think that most obese people are hiding, self-protecting, seeking comfort in food that they can't find by other means. Perhaps Ms. Wilson, whose father has never made an attempt to hide his drug addiction, has an addictive personality. Perhaps she's never dealt with the emotional issues that make her eat in the first place. Perhaps...
I want to believe that. I need to believe that. I need to believe that what separates me and Carnie Wilson is that I have dealt with the emotional issues that caused me to pack on the pounds in the first place. I hope and pray that's what separates us. I hope and pray that this weight will continue to come off--although it is slow now, I've lost 104 pounds--and STAY off. Without hope, what do we have?
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