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Its not Masturbation its exploratory

femaleformYes, yes, I am touching myself.

Seriously, it sounds horrible, it really does, of course I worded it that way intentionally to get a laugh out of you, but the truth is, it is NOT that far off.

If you are the type of person that is going to have an issue with the fact that I am opening discussing my private parts, masturbation and body image I highly suggest you stop reading this particular blog post, you won’t like it much, but come back, I’ll go back to the usual post Bariatric topics of flatulence, bowel movements and food issues soon enough I promise.

Okay so imagine this for me for a second. You have been overweight since the sixth grade. Morbidly obese most your life, you’ve lost 260 lb and you’ve had three bouts of reconstructive plastic surgery to get your body closer to what it might have been like if you had not battled this disease we call obesity. However, you have won the fight; your obesity is in remission, as long as you do not fall back into unhealthy behaviors. Your entire body is new to you. It’s been cut in just about every which way possible, you’ve got scars under your breasts, around your nipples, from armpit to elbow, from armpit to hip, from groin to knee and all the way around your body at your bikini line. Everything feels different from how it did before, your body is foreign to you and you have numbness in strange places all over your body where the feeling hasn’t quite returned yet. kissingJordan

Okay now let’s talk boobs. We all have them. Before my surgery mine touched the floor. OK not quite but they hung to my waist for sure.  I can’t remember a time my breasts didn’t hang like that, for the first time ever I have hardly any under boob, I have perky breasts. And my nipples, seriously, night and day difference. Pre Reconstructive surgery I had inverted nipples that hardly ever came out of their shell of boobage, now I have these pert nipples that get hard all the time, it’s cold, it’s windy,  I took my sweatshirt off, I opened the refrigerator door. It’s constant and at first it was actually painful when it happened. That is where the touching thing started. When I told my plastic surgeon how painful it was when my nipples got hard she told me to work on de-sensitizing them by touching them.

Let me pause here and say that I am a very tactile person.  There is something I can’t explain that makes touch a more important sense to me than anything else. I remember as a child lying next to my Grandmother rubbing a scar on her arm that was softer than the rest of her skin over and over again. I’m the type of girl who loves to cuddle and touch and if I find a place on your body that is softer, a raised bump or something like that, I will just rub it constantly, back and forth with the pad of my finger. I’ve had partners that used to smack my hand away after I had rubbed the same spot for so long that it had driven them crazy. I’ve been called a “rubber” on more than one occasion. Even when I sucked my thumb I used to curl my index finger up and rub the tip of my nose over and over again for hours. I can’t explain it I’m a freak.

So I was told to touch my nipples to desensitize them. And I started doing it. Whenever they would start hurting I’d reach in, rub them, and try to warm them up, make them not so hard, and desensitize them. I must say it works. I have less reactive nipples months later. I also, appear to me fondling myself constantly.  I was sitting here at the computer today and suddenly I realized I had my hand down my tank top and was rubbing my left nipple back and forth just like I did to the tip of my nose when I sucked my thumb, just sitting there in thought, idly rubbing my left nipple with my right hand.

When I realized what I was doing I burst into laughter. All I could think of was… crap; I bet my household thinks I’m crazy because I’m constantly touching my body. But it’s all new to me and I am just learning it. I’m not masturbating, it’s not sexual, it’s… exploratory! I can squeeze my whole boob into my hand without having to lift it or anything! My stomach feels flat. I can feel bones and muscles I never felt under my skin before. I can see my muscles move when I do. I can feel them flexing if I have my hand on them as I move.

I’m learning my body and I’m a touch oriented individual. So apparently, reconstructive plastic surgery turned me into Al Bundy only instead of having my hands down my pants in a comfortable resting post I have them down my shirt. Now that I have realized this, I of course, I’m a little embarrassed about it. But then I thought, why should I be, I mean, how the hell do you learn your own body if you don’t touch it.

If I lost my sight this is exactly the way I would learn my body, and for me, seeing it in the mirror doesn’t work for that, not for me, that’s why I take pictures because I see the changes in myself more in photos than in the mirror. And that is why I touch myself and explore my new body with my hands. Because it FEELS different, my skin feels different on me, and my body doesn’t feel the way I expect it to when it is touched, so by touching it myself I am learning how my new body works and responds. I touch my boobs, I touch my sides, I touch my inner thighs, I caress my body where all my scars are on a regular basis.

So yes, I am touching myself.

Yes I am playing with my boobs and learning my body.

The only issue I really see with that is why someone isn’t else doing it for me. I jest. But only a little.

And for those of you that are really uncomfortable with the fact that I am talking about playing with my nipples and fondling my breasts in a Christopher Columbus fashion, well, let’s just pretend I am practicing self-breast-exams and call it good eh? DSSPostSig

One of the Darkest Days of my Weight Loss Journey

I’m pretty sure I’m having a semi nervous break down or something equivalent to it in my weight loss journey. I’m sitting here trying to re-gather myself, panting for breath and sniffling uncontrollably with the hiccups after throwing myself on the bed and crying and sobbing in a way I can only recall doing the morning my father died and the first time a boy broke my heart.

Let me rewind for you a second and explain how I got here. As many of you know, I plan to go to Vegas, I got very excited about the whole free plastic surgery consult thing and this morning I was standing in front of the mirror thinking about the things I knew I still wanted to get fixed, and how I was actually planning on waiting another year or so to go forward anymore and give myself a break since it was all such little things when something caught my attention in the mirror. It looked like … hanging skin. On my abdomen, the one I’ve done two plastic surgeries on. Two surgeries that my insurance covered. I started examining myself in the mirror and leaned over and I nearly died as I saw a good two inches of skin fall down as I leaned over.

I closed my eyes at that point and I started trying to ground myself, but I was lost, the panic set in and I was off and running.

When can I schedule a surgery and still maintain my timeline for everything on my calendar between now and August? How would I do this and fit in trying to buy a house? My Family is already getting upset that all things WLS are overtaking my life and having to remind me that I need to step back and take time for my friends and family that are not WLS people. They were relieved to see the major part of this surgery over, can we make it through another major surgery? There has been times that its been a strain on us. Can I afford to do this? I have the room on credit cards we made sure of that all along the way, it would be available if I needed it. But if I did that, what would we live on? Because we ended up supplementing my income most the year with what we didn’t use of the plastic surgery loan so that we could pay the bills. I have to do this. There is no way I can’t do this….

Because the reason I am in this panic, is because this skin to me, represents the people who abused me. When I see it on my body it makes me feel like I am still being haunted by their abuse despite how far I try to get away from it.

If I chose to fix this it will mean my family giving up the shot at a house… for the third time, to give me what I need, first a car, then nearly 2/3 a year off work to have plastic surgery after plastic surgery because they knew how bad I needed to do this emotionally. How can I possible ask that of them. I can’t. I’ll have to wait. And waiting means living with this now everyday when I look in the mirror.

WLSPauseI’m a huge believer in the fact that we are ill prepared for the emotional whirlwind that life gives you after your weight loss journey starts to get you near your goal weight. I’ve made a promise to you all that I will share that journey with you no matter where it takes me, today is truly one of my darkest days.

It is going to take me a few days to get through this and find my center. It’s going to take me getting some sleep, getting up and running and talking to my Dad and sorting through how I will take on this emotional battle I have ahead of me. I’m in tears as I write this part because truly, until this morning I was in a much different place with this, I thought I had lost that haunted feeling when I came out of this last surgery.

I need to catch my breath. But I also need to share and to hear your thoughts and support. I’m hurting and scared and lost. I’ll find my way through though, you’ll see. I’ll be ok. I might be scared, but I am stronger than this too, I know this much for sure.

Related Conversations on Facebook:

“I think I might just be having a nervous breakdown.”

This post discussed on my Facebook Fan Page

“Chris, if you’re still hearing my voice, I could use a little pep talk. Please. ?”


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Author: Pandora Williams

Author of Desperately Seeking Slender

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