A few of you dear readers have commented on my frequent use of 'law' and wondered about it's origins.
My mom used it all the time, and her sisters too.
Her sisters used 'they law'
I remember my mom using 'aye law' - perhaps it was her northern adaptation of it. She never completely lost her southern accent.
'Aye law - I'll not go' she'd say when she was frustrated waiting on my dad to take her places.
'Aye law - I can't have anything' - that's the one I heard ALL the time. When we as kids would break a knick knack, or when things just didn't go as she'd wished.
I've been saying 'Aye law, I can't have anything' for years. Even some of my friends have picked it up from me.
Enter the book 'The Help' referred to me from Flower Patch Farmgirl.
There's no turning back.
Everything, and I do mean everything is law.
You are gonna have to stick with me until I run it into the ground - it could take a while.
I'm sure Dolly uses it.
I love Dolly.
I wish I could spend a day with her.
OK - here's the long awaited (?) post on The Change.
Oh - speaking of The Change - I've not had another 'flash' yet. How I loved your comments, and I'm almost happy to be in this club with y'all - in fact, I feel like I'm in great company.
You have no idea of the inner turmoil I've had over this - no idea.
I almost don't know where to begin, so let me just say that the forecast of this post is 'wordy with a chance of drivel.'
OK - The two main components of my life that I feel that I need to change are:
Perhaps the two are intertwined in some way, as I feel that food soothes me.
I've had a weight problem for some of my childhood and most of my adult life.
If you are reading this, and you've had/have a weight problem, I know you can understand my feelings.
Today we were at a Gladiolus Festival in Momence, Illinois.
It was 91 degrees out.
I had on three quarter sleeves and jeans.
Most of my thought life is about my weight and how I want it changed.
For all of you naturally thin people - I'm sure you think - well, why don't you go on a diet and do something about it then?
Ya think? Seems rather logical.
All I can say, until you've walked in our broken down shoes, don't judge.
I don't judge the smoker, the alcoholic or the drug addict.
When I was 12 I began cutting pictures of pretty, thin women out of the Sears Catalog and putting them on the fridge, beating myself up when I'd overeat.
I've successfully lost weight in the past, many a time.
9 out of 10 people gain the weight back.
So did I.
I've beat myself up. I've talked horrible about myself. I've shamed myself.
At one time I weighed nearly 300 lbs.
I've successfully kept off 60lbs for over ten years.
I'm still obese.
A few months ago, I had a dream in which I saw a dinner plate, stuck vertically in the ground like a headstone, and it had RIP on it, and there were a knife and fork sticking in the ground on it's sides, flanking it, like urns.
Since that dream, I've been searching my soul for answers.
I couldn't find any.
Every stinkin' time I would decide to 'go on an eating plan' I would become depressed. I would become overwhelmed. I felt like it was so monumental. Now I've lost 90# and 80# on two separate occasions. I only need to lose about 60#'s now - piece of cake. Pun intended.
Making the bed I cry out to God.
'Help me - show me - guide me'.
Then I would turn to logic and think - geez Jaym, get a grip. Eat less, move more - end of story, stop thinking this thing in the ground.
Then I'd eat egg whites (throwing my beautiful golden yolks in the garbage) for breakfast and feel like life wasn't worth living. (I know, I'm dramatic, you should know that by now)
Then I would be preoccupied all day with what I should eat, what I couldn't eat.
I lost ALL desire to cook.
Every little bit of desire. Poof.
I sat in indecision for two months.
I went to the library and got a ton of books.
"I'm gonna do South Beach'
"I'm gonna do what Suzanne Somers says.
I joined Weight Watchers.
I knew I was in trouble when the first thing I looked up in the book was bacon.
Honest to God.
3 strips = 4 points.
A still small voice said,
"Follow your peace"
What brought me peace?
Did the thought of counting calories, carbs and protein grams bring me peace?
Did the thought of eating grilled chicken and steamed vegetables bring me peace?
I liked the feeling of control - of being in charge - I can fix this - I can do this - can't I?
It caused inner turmoil.
Then I thought that inner turmoil was because I was a food junkie, and you were messing with my stash of junk and I was just getting itchy.
So there I sat again with my familiar friend - indecision.
I'm not trying to be a fitness model, or a body builder or an athlete.
I'm trying to get this weight off of me for my emotional and physical health.
I'm trying to be the best me.
I know Mexico is South, but I'm not sure exactly how to get there - but at least I could start out by heading South. I could get directions along the way.
If I keep doing the same thing over and over - the thing that didn't work long term - it seems crazy.
This is what I'm doing.
I'm cutting my food in half.
There is no food off limit to me.
If I'm hungry - I'll eat - but half of what I would normally.
Half a sandwich.
Half a chicken breast.
2 strips of bacon instead of 10.
When I think of this, I have peace.
I'm going to exercise solely for the fact that I feel better when I do.
I want to get flexible again.
I want to ride my bike, and take walks.
It seems so simple and against everything 'out there' that I feel scared - but I feel peace.
There's a part of me screaming - what about the charts? What about the calories?
I have more peace with this decision, than I did with a traditional 1200 calorie 'plan', so I'm following my peace.
I will be updating you on my weight loss, and I will be talking about this more.
If you do leave a comment on this post - could you please tell me if you are interested in this topic at all? I won't talk about it alot - perhaps once a week or so - letting you know how it's going - the challenges I'm facing.
I remember telling one of my friends, that if I didn't beat this weight loss thing once and for all by the time I was 50, I was giving up.
I was gonna get a short gray perm, start smoking, get acrylic nail tips and wear pink sweatshirts with pictures of kittens and yarn balls.
I gots 16 months y'alls.
I'm weary of the fight.
I feel very vulnerable putting this on the blog.
But - I have peace.
I know I didn't verbalize all of this the way I wanted to, but I just needed to get it out there.
Thanks for reading. Thanks for being here. I appreciate y'all so very, very much.