*Trigger Warning- I’ll be talking about my body, mental health and insecurities. If these could possibly trigger a bad feeling or set you back on your mental health journey, please skip this post. I’ll be back next week with (FINALLY) a post about the house.*
This is me at what I would consider my best shape. My body did whatever I wanted it to. I was hitting PR’s, and I couldn’t walk past a mirror without flexing and LOVING what I saw. My body was transforming, and so was my mind. I was kicking the former “Michele’s” ass and taking names. I was at the gym 4 times a week, and I never missed a Monday. And then one day, everything came tumbling down. Depression set in and I hated stepping foot in the gym. I was hitting a plateau (something I was warned would happen) and I started second guessing myself. I would just sit and cry and I never fully understood why. A dark cloud hung over me, and I couldn’t explain what was happening. Family would tell me I had so much to be thankful for, and I needed to see that. *FYI* WORST thing to say to someone that is suffering from depression. We aren’t ungrateful, we are lost. I started slacking at the gym and eventually decided, maybe I just needed time away. I was burned out and needed a break. Well that was 10 months ago, and I’ve only been back to a gym maybe 15 times. I am nowhere near where I used to be, and I HATE what I see in the mirror. Kyle and I went to Braves Opening Day and I cropped our first Opening Day photo (2011) next to this one and I was horrified. I didn’t even look like me. It’s not that I’m fat. I have fat without a doubt, but it’s that I’m just not “me” anymore. I have always been athletic and when I looked at myself, I knew I could do anything. I could lift anything. I could run without issue. But this week, I ran on Monday afternoon and my hips STILL hurt. I’ve let myself go, and I am so disappointed. I see people that used to work out with me and would ask ME for advice, and they are now KILLING it in the gym. I am so incredibly proud of them, but I can’t help but be jealous. I feel uncomfortable and insecure in the gym. Yeah, my belly is (mostly) flat, but I can barely squat what I used to warm up with. My traps are nearly gone, and the only reason my shoulders still exist is because I was blessed with them genetically. I have no one to blame for this backslide but myself. I’m not posting this because I want pity or someone to tell me I look great! Because it honestly has nothing to do with anyone else. Kyle tells me daily how beautiful I am and how much he loves my body, and I am so appreciative of that. But I don’t see it, and I need to change that. I’m putting this here for accountability. I found a local old-school gym that I want to try out. Their prices are reasonable and they have great reviews. I’m determined to get back to the mental and physical state that I was. I want to bust out of my jeans because my quads are jacked. I want to need new t-shirts because my arms don’t fit. I have my goals, and I WILL reach them. No more excuses.
Thanks for listening to me whine.