Stop saying when...

When am I going to stop sectioning my life off? When am I going to stop holding life off with phrases like..."I will do that...when...I get my excess skin removed." or "I will allow myself that joy...when...I lose my last 15 pounds." Or "I will finally be happy...when...I don't have this deformed looking body."
What is with the "when." Why am I allowing the "whens" to control my life. Why can't I just live every day for what it is, today? Why didn't I shed the self doubt and insecurities when I shed the 130 pounds? Curse you childhood filled with negativity and berating comments telling you you were less than. Does anyone else feel this way? I am so thrilled that I got the call two weeks ago...my insurance is covering my skin removal surgery. This is such a huge huge thing for me. My stomach is a reminder of nothing but bad. No accomplishments there...just regret, embarrassment and shame. I am terrified of the recovery. Terrified. These are going to be the most painful horrendous days of my life. I am afraid of getting depressed. I am afraid of being alone with my thoughts and not being able to get out of my head and possibly sinking back into the world of darkness and sadness I have experienced a few times in my life. I never understood "depression." In fact, when I was in high school I worked as a receptionist for a psychiatry office and had such a bad, dismissive attitude towards the patients who came in blubbering for hours. My thoughts...get over yourself. No one wants to hear about your pity parties. Yea, that was me.
Then after my last baby was born, me, Big Bad Heather, the brute, got hit in the face with a big piece of depression pie. I hit rock bottom. Had postpartum depression plus many issues that had arisen during my pregnancy that I had smothered during the time. Well, they all surfaced their ugly little heads and I fell deeper than I ever knew possible. I had anxiety attacks through the roof. I literally felt like I was coming out of my skin sometimes. It was an utter nightmare. Thankfully, I found a therapist who was amazing. And took anti-depressants for a while. And was finally able to regain my life. 
Then, last year after my gastric bypass I found it happening again. I felt so low. I physically felt like crap and now had no "coping mechanisms" to turn to. No 44oz mountain dew. No enormous bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats. (with almonds of course). No second helpings of dinner just because I wanted. I had never considered myself an emotional eater. I just loved to eat. Now I realized I was an emotional eater, just not in the ways most people were. Now here I was sad, alone, scared and in pain. The constant thought that kept overtaking my head..."So yes I was fat, but I was happy fat. What if I become thin and miserable?" Was this worth it? Now of course...a year out, I say ABSOLUTELY...this was worth every tear, every stitch, every complication. Will this be how I feel after having cosmetic surgery. I sure the hell hope so. I think I should probably start on an anti-depressant before the surgery. Because over the past year, instead of being an emotional eater, I have become an emotional exerciser. Now, when I am feeling stressed, anxious, sad, down, happy, energetic...whatever the emotion is, I hit the gym, sweat my saggy ass off and all is better. My head is clear, my body is strong. I feel powerful. But...after this surgery...I can't exercise for at least 8 WEEKS! 8 WEEKS! I am so afraid I am going to come unglued! I will now not only have food to turn to, but I won't have the gym either! How am I going to cope? Any suggestions???? I know this has to happen, for me to stop with the "whens" but I am terrified friends, simply terrified.