I don’t want to be the tragic story that my son tells his therapist when he’s thirty.

You read that correctly.  It’s heavy and dense to consider, but truthfully, if I don’t take care of my body and health, there is a good chance that I will die young and over a long time of suffering.  The body count of obesity related deaths is rising everyday in America, and the sad part is that it’s totally preventable.  It’s really easy to make excuses and not really try to stick to my guns because I have some kind of victim mentality that I am just made this way or that I can’t change things. 

As I’ve mentioned on here before, I’m tired of excuses, and I want something real.  The thing that has been nagging at me lately is that I really don’t want to be someone’s tragic story.  My husband’s father died from skin cancer when he was only 25.  Matt never got the chance to know him.  Back then, people didn’t know all they do now about prevention and making it easier.  There are several things that his death shaped about my husband’s upbringing.  Now, it’s wonderful that his stepfather is a great man who loves him like a son, but a lot of the way that Matt was raised was based on that feeling of loss.  His mom always looked out for him more closely than other moms, and he has always lived hearing wonderful stories about his father, but never having known him personally.  Praise God that things worked out well for him, but things don’t always work out well for everyone. 

I know full well that you can’t really control death, and if lightning strikes you, you can’t really prevent it, but there are things that I have control over.  I do not  have to put things into my body that will make me sick or fat.  I don’t have to do things that will wreck the environment and cause me suffering longterm.  I am the master of my health as far as nutrition goes.  I refuse to have this life that I’ve worked so hard to make meaningful end in some tragic way because my addiction to food or desire for instant pleasure or even convenience outweighed my desire to be around long enough to see my son get married, have kids, and have his own meaningful life.  Those things are too important to me.  If I don’t care enough to control myself, I may as well just put a gun to my head and pull the trigger.  Of course, that is ridiculous, and most people would never consider it, but the subtler way of killing oneself three times a day seems to be of great consideration for some reason.  We don’t connect the similarity because it’s so gradual.  I want to encourage everyone to remember that when you make a stand for what you believe in, and you choose to do good things for yourself, you affect far more than just yourself.  You affect all those who love you and want you around.  They don’t want to have to tell their therapist about you when they’re thirty because you were their tragic story.  They want to tell their therapist how you were around to screw them up, but that they somehow love you anyway.

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About wholefoodsoulfood

Wife, mother, teller-of stories, cooker of food, liver of life, teller of truth. Welcome to my corner of the internet. Make yourself at home.
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One Response to I don’t want to be the tragic story that my son tells his therapist when he’s thirty.

  1. Amanda Kauf says:

    I really don’t want to cry on a Sunday morning before I’ve even had my coffee…REALLY don’t want to.

    Another great post, Jen. You are totally reminding us (well, me) of what’s most important about being healthy. Oh man, here come the tears anyway.

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