A Compliment Sandwich

I'm going to follow Stewie Griffin's example and make myself a compliment sandwich.

The compliment bread:
When I was finished straightening my hair last night, I looked in the mirror and though, "goddamn, I've got pretty nice eyes and a fabulous bone structure."

The critical smoked turkey, lettuce, red pepper, and pesto:
At what point do I ask for help?  When do I decide that the things I'm doing aren't working and look into alternatives, like a lap band procedure?  How far do I let this go?
I'm torn.  It's been a year since my surgery.  In this year I've put on 60 pounds.  I feel like the control I have over my weight gain is limited.  I can monitor my eating.  I can exercise.  I can take my hormones.  What else am I supposed to do?  I did Farrell's in an attempt to really kick my body into gear, but my starting weight was 205, and by the end of the 10 week session I was 230.  I know I built a lot of muscle, but 25 pounds of muscle?  I'm not that much of an ox.
I also still feel just, out of whack since my surgery.  Wild body temperature changes and insane bouts of profuse sweating, headaches, forgetfulness (more than usual), etc.  Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't take that surgery back for anything, but I keep wondering if things are still getting sorted out in this big meat sack I call a body.  Am I supposed to just give it more time?  December 4th will be the one year anniversary for my surgery.  I've read it can take over a year for your body to figure out what it's doing again.  Am I just being overly sensitive and panicky for nothing?

All these stupid weight loss articles and success stories I read say, make little changes and it will help in big ways.  Should I just keep at what I'm doing now?  It seems like my little changes are getting me absolutely nowhere.  Even my big changes are failing.  How am I suppose to figure out when to say enough, and look into more serious options?  I read insurance will cover lap band surgery if your BMI is under 38 and you have at least 2 weight related health issues.  If you have no weight related health issues, your BMI has to be over 40.  My BMI is 40.2 and so far I have no weight related health issues, but it's not something I'm going to brag or be cocky about. Diabetes and heart disease are rampant in my family and I'm terrified that each of them is lurking around a fatty corner.

Just when I think I should run to the doctor's office requesting a gut clamp, I see some story on TV or on the internet about some ex fat schlub that changed their life with a few "simple" changes.   I happened to catch a Dr. Oz clip while I was at home this morning, and saw this large woman, bigger than me, that had lost 200 pounds by dancing around.  Not intense, high impact dancing, just simple, fun moves.  If she was in the kitchen cooking, she would dance around.  If she was  home watching TV, she'd dance around.  She said she just had to commit herself to moving around more.  I thought she looked fabulous, despite her bigness.  She was so sexy when she was dancing around, showing the audience some moves, and she radiated confidence.  She made me feel like I should have more hope and give myself more time.  I like to walk, I take the stairs, I don't drive around looking for the closest parking spot I can get, (usually), I kick box when my neighbors aren't being assholes about the noise.  If I need to dance around more, I know Tessa would be more than willing to have late night dance parties with me.

I know I'm being impatient, but I hate the way my body feels right now.  I hate that my top belly roll gets in the way when I'm bending over to put on my shoes, or just trying to stretch.  I hate the way I can feel the bulges under my bra touch my waist.  I hate how I can't trim my pubes anymore because my bottom belly roll gets in the way of my vaginal line of site, (god bless my bikini waxing lady).  I hate the way I have to powder under all my various bulges so I don't end up with a nasty heat rash.  I hate the way my boobs always feel like they're being shoved up into my neck because my gut is too big.  I hate the way I can feel fat touch the top of my had when I put my hands on my hips.  I hate that I hate my body.

The second slice of compliment bread:
I have a fabulous, easy going personality.  I know I can be obnoxious and overbearing or just ditzy sometimes, but I have an intrinsic way of making people feel at ease.  If I can make someone feel a bit calmer or more comfortable with me, I'm more comfortable with myself.  Whether it's a stranger on the phone, or a clerk at the grocery store, I can empathize with all kinds of people and situations.  Unless they're jerks, or happen to look at me funny.