This is a Really Real Mental Health Post.
CW: Weight and gym and food and body stuff.
Today was one of those gym days that I love to hate. I didn’t want to go, I fought myself all morning, the whole time I was getting dressed, the entire way there, and even sitting in front of the gym. I had every excuse in the book.
I’m flaring right now, every joint is on fire and my skin feels like its covered in sunburn.
My allergies are acting up and I’m sneezing and my lungs hurt.
And underneath it all I’m depressed.
I also got on the scale and I’m still gaining weight instead of losing and as much as I try to say that it’s all about health and not weight, I can’t stand seeing the numbers creep up, ever so slowly, remembering where I was, and knowing how easy it is to get back there.
But I went, just like I’ve gone for the last 3 or 4 days. I went and I pushed myself and afterwards I felt like shit and I wanted to fall over. But I went.
And I want someone to be proud of me because right now I feel like the gym is useless.
I beat myself up if I don’t go, I beat myself up when I do go because I don’t feel like I’m doing enough while I’m there. I beat myself up because I don’t want to go.
I beat myself up because the scale is going in the wrong direction. I beat myself up because I’m eating crap and the house is filled with crap food and I keep adding to it and mindlessly eating it.
I beat myself up because I feel like my one chance to get this under control was the weight loss surgery that I worked so hard for and they took the chance away from me and now I’m not sure how to do this on my own. And I feel like it’s my fault that I can’t.
But today I went to the gym. And I got on the elliptical and even though my lungs were burning and my skin was on fire and my joints hurt I still pushed through. And then I got on the arc bike and pushed through that. And then I pushed through strength training too.
And this post didn’t end up where I planned for it to, because as it often happens, it had a mind of its own and things that needed to be said.
I’m trying so hard to get healthy in so many areas and I can’t figure out how to do them all at the same time.
And that feels like a cop out.
And unfortunately, beating myself up doesn’t help me lose weight or get healthier, or get my brain together.
I don’t want an easy way out, I just want some way out of this body that I’ve been stuck in for too long.
I want to be able to get on a fucking airplane without buying 2 seats. I want to be able to roll over in bed without being afraid that the frame is going to break. I want to be able to go visit people without worrying about what furniture they have and if it’ll support me.
I’m tired of being in this body.
And it makes me tired of being at all.