Floundering

I am floundering.  Medically, that is.  I am supposed to go see my endocrinologist on Tuesday.  The endocrinologist I said I wasn't going back to.  I was supposed to find a new one between my last visit to her and now.  I did not.  I am worried I am expecting too much from my doctors and that what I want is not possible.
I did a little fact finding mission with the help of the wonderful nurse in my OB office.  I found out that I have gained twenty pounds since my thyroid was removed. TWENTY.  Something about that seems off to me.  But is it because I am just lazy and unwilling to really go on a diet and try? According to my endo it's because I drink my calories. I don't think that's right.
I feel very beaten down in this area. I am tired of hiding from the mirror and the camera.  I am tired of feeling like the inside doesn't match the outside. But I don't know what I want.  Well, I do.  I want to wake up each morning and get on the scale and see a lower number.  Without changing a thing that I eat and without any time at the gym.  But, clearly that's not going to happen.
In lieu of that, I think I would like go to the doctor, any doctor, and for them to say "Wow, something about this is weird.  It should not be this way.  Your lifestyle and gaining 10 pounds a year does not match. Let's get to the bottom of this." OR "This is a sad side effect of not having a thyroid.  We can get you close to normal thyroid levels medically, but your weight will never be normal again."
I have a feeling the truth lies somewhere in the middle.  It would be foolish to think that not having a thyroid would not have any effect whatsoever on my weight.  But it probably is not the only reason I have gained so much weight over the last two years. Diets are hard and require a lot of self-discipline which I find I have very, very little of.  They are made harder when you see absolutely no results. And, honestly, I need to lose a good 30-40 pounds to be back in the non-obese area on those charts. (Let me tell you that was a bad day realizing where I fell on the BMI index).  That feels like telling me I need to learn how to fly. You'd think that all that would be motivating to me, but I find that I am unwilling to even try. The thing I find myself thinking the most is about when my co-worker Jacquie died in a car accident.  Another co-worker who worked on the same team as Jacquie and me were talking right after she died and she said that all she could think about was how Jacquie always denied herself dessert in an effort to keep the pounds off and that she should have just eaten the cookie. I wonder if my unwillingness to dive headlong into full-time healthy eating is because somewhere in the back of my mind I think it's useless because I'm going to die sooner than later.  And I might as well have the cookie. But I also would like to die happy, and right now I am NOT happy with my body.  Shouldn't that be a motivator?
So where does this leave me?  Do I need therapy?  Do I need a nutritionist?  Do I just give up dessert for a bit and see where that leaves me? Low carb? Low fat?  Healthy trim? Alli? Sensa?

I can't decide if I am even going to bring this up to the doctor on Tuesday.  In the past when discussing my weight with her, I leave very frustrated.  And really, what can she say?  "Oh here's this magic pill I've been keeping from you until I felt like you were really ready for it."
Wouldn't that be nice?  Anyone got any magic beans they want to sell me?  I might be buying.