Phase 7: Calling in the Calvary 

Where is my Mother this whole time? Waiting patiently in New Mexico. She had basically retired and constantly worked on spiritualism, self-improvement, life-coaching and even nutrition. She was everything that I was not. She was very organized, financially responsible, spiritually attuned, and passionately healthy.

When my Dad started to slide under, so many years ago, my Mom chose to rise above. She got versed in alcoholism, in recovery, in the spiritual side of life. She rose to massive challenges in the harshest conditions you can imagine. I respect her immensely and I never really felt like I had much to offer her, in her enlightened life. But I knew she cared and I thought she would help.

I called and I basically spilled it all out on the table. My weight, my depression, my feelings of being lost and unsure about everything. I tried very hard to give control over to her. I didn’t believe in a higher power, but I did believe in my Mother. She was amazing. She gave great advice and in short order she had me reflecting on my life and planning my meals and working toward a better way.

I remember feeling guilty. That I could turn to my Mom but not my own wife. Carrie didn’t have to struggle with what I did. She hadn’t been so fat that you can’t wipe yourself properly and experience the anguish that comes along with that. Being obese is impossible to describe to anyone because it’s a slow ongoing process. You make more and more discoveries about how your body has betrayed you that it’s never just ONE realization. It’s a hundred realizations over a thousand days and a million meals.

There was a few months there, where it got better. I started walking several days a week. I changed my whole method of eating and was trying different approaches. We talked 3 days a week and she was like my trainer, my counselor and my food coach all wrapped into one.

I lost 20 pounds.

Eventually finances reared their ugly head. Carrie was happy that I was making changes and she even offered to pay for my rent and my bills to keep me going. I couldn’t accept that. I couldn’t deal with her suffering for me for another 6 months, or year or whatever it took, while I peevishly ate brown rice and tried to take walks.

I was still extremely ashamed of my behavior thus far, and I couldn’t imagine continuing to be a burden. I started looking to a job and I felt like maybe I could handle that and my current path of righteousness.