My Jewish Mother

I am a fraud.

I’m a fake.

A hypocrite.

When I preach on Sunday, you can see it. Be honest. I know you do. When I counsel self-control, I know you have to be questioning the validity of my advice.

I struggle and I cannot seem to control myself. I eat too much. There, I said it. I love food. I love to cook it and love to eat it. I love the sensuality of it. I eat when I am happy, I eat when I am sad. I eat out of frustration and I eat out of boredom. I have no self-control in this area. And thus, I am obese.

I have fought this issue of weight my entire life. I can remember as early as nine or ten years old being called the fat kid. I have dieted and exercised on and off again my entire adult life with limited bouts of success and long periods of complete breakdown. I’ve tried diet plans, exercise regimens, hypnotherapy, counseling, and accountability groups. None of these have had long term success for me and many have been utter failure. I’ve faced disappointment time and time again.

Four years ago, I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes. This is worse than a death sentence. This disease is degenerative and wreaks havoc with your internal systems. Heart attack, kidney failure, liver problems, nerve damage, cancer, neuropathy, digestive issues, blindness, immunodeficiency, and limb amputation are just some of the issues that arise from diabetes.

I don’t want to die from a case of the stupids. Even more importantly, I don’t want to live as a pain-ridden, feeble, invalid for years because I cannot control myself. I have a beautiful wife and two lovely daughters who don’t deserve to watch me destroy myself.

So, here is where I am at today. Just over two years ago, I was at 320 pounds. I managed to lose about 40 pounds of that myself, working out until I reached a plateau that I couldn’t seem to get past. I joined a program called Medifast where I have slowly lost about another 15. This doctor-supervised weight loss program really works. I’ve seen it work in my life and in others, but still I struggle. I don’t follow the program as I should. I cheat.

Several weeks ago, I was speaking with one of the program counselors and she asked me why I was having so much trouble and going so slowly. I listed several reasons (most to do with my own failings), but I also mentioned that when I do well, the counselors are nice and encouraging, and when I fail, they just seem to get more peppy and encouraging. I told her, “I need someone who can kick my butt when needed, someone who will tell my when my excuses are bullshit, someone who can encourage me and love on me when necessary, and someone to guilt me and shame me when it’s called for. In short, I need to find me a Jewish mother.” She looked at me slyly and smiled, saying, “That, we might be able to do.”

The next week when I came in for my appointment, the owner of the company came out and said, “Rodger, you’re with me today.” She met with me and told me that she didn’t want to waste her time or mine, but she was taking me on as a special case. She then got serious and had a long hard discussion with me. Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it. The punch-line to this joke is that I found out that night that Ilyne IS Jewish. And she is a Mother and Grandmother. So I guess I got exactly what I asked for.

So, now I have a Jewish mother. She seems like a nice lady, but, boy is she tough. Maybe she is exactly what I need.

One of the things that she suggested that I do is to tell everyone around me what my struggle is and ask them to help. So, here goes:

Please don’t go out to lunch with me. Let’s do coffee, instead.

Please don’t give me food as a present. Just spend some time with me.

If you see me eating anything that isn’t a small amount of protein and a salad, please say something.

If you care, please ask me about my progress and encourage me when you see me.

Hold me accountable. Smack me around if need be.

I appreciate any help I can get with this.

I don’t want to be a fat guy anymore.

I don’t want to be a fraud anymore.