working on me

working on me.png

I have legit gone to the dark place. You know the one. Where your heart is broken, you’ve lost most of your sense of worth, and you have no idea what your purpose is anymore. Or maybe you never did?

I’m have what Sia calls an elastic heart. The end of last year I fell wickedly hard in love and FAST. It was a whirlwind relationship that caught me by surprise and I was ready for it. I finally felt like I could be myself, farts and all, and I felt whole. I felt like I was enough. Until I wasn’t enough anymore. I couldn’t make him happy and he felt like I wasn’t trying, so it all just kind of fell apart and just like that, it was over. A bunch of little things added up to big things. Cruel words were said that can’t be taken back. We both disappointed each other and now I’m just left with the pieces of my elastic heart that don’t seem quite so elastic anymore.

Fast forward to this past Monday morning where I couldn’t get him out of my head. All I wanted was to hear from him. To hear something. I was a head case all morning at the gym and during my workout I lost focus as he popped into my head. The WOD included box jumps, which are already a fear of mine having skinned my shin on them twice before, and in the last 5 seconds of the workout I let my mind wander to him. BAM. I missed the box and came down on my shin. If you follow me on Instagram then you already know what happened and I apologize for the gore in my story. For those of you who don’t, I busted my shin open down to the bone and had to go to the ER for stitches.

Thank you universe. I hear you. But you didn’t have to throw a big fat FUCK YOU my way for thinking about him.

So yeah. That happened. Now I have some really ugly stitches and a huge hole in my leg and heart. I’m not good at this. Heartbreak. Loneliness. Feeling like I’m enough. It’s quite silly really because if you look at my life from the outside I’m quite lucky. I have parents who love and support me, I have pretty cool friends all over the US and parts of Canada. My job is rad. I’m super active. But inside, there is this emptiness inside of me that consumes me often. I go to therapy and I’ve somewhat tried prescription meds but there it is. My love for this guy was very real and having him not in my life anymore shoved in my face that I base WAY too much of my self-worth in having others in my life.  More specifically men and my desire to have a partner in this crazy world.

So now I’m on this journey of self-love and discovery. It’s pretty dark, ugly, and ridiculously lonely. I mean, I don’t even want to hear myself talk about depression or anxiety so I’m sure it’s hard for friends and family to listen. That’s why social media is a highlight reel, ya feel me? But you know what, it’s important to talk about these things and know that you aren’t alone. And yes there are worse things happening to people but it’s all relative and this is my reality right now and it hurts.

So here’s to heartbreak and loneliness and learning to love yourself. After 35 years of disappointment in myself and others, countless life lesson talks from my parents and friends, I’m diving into a relationship with myself and batting these demons. I’m worth it, I’m awesome, and it’s about time I started acting like it.

I’m depressed and terrified and I’m going to fail millions of times, but I’m brave enough to keep trying.

.Defeat.

It happened.

The feeling.

DEFEAT.

Last night I stayed after work for a Happy Hour meet and greet event.  I had come off of a long 24 hours of traveling and dealing with the loss of someone dear.  I had three glasses of wine and was feeling great.  I mean, wine always makes me feel great.  Until the next morning when my head is pounding.

I got home around 8:30 pm and realized I was starving.  So I did what any normal person who is kinda drunk and dealing with food and body image issues would do.  I ate the rest of the ice cream in the fridge and ordered a pizza.  Okay, okay…I also ordered the parmesan bread bites.

As I sat on my couch, dipping my slices into the garlic butter included in my order, I started to think and be aware of how my body was feeling.   Sure, that pizza was AMAZING.  But I began to feel the grease on my face and fingers, the folds of my stomach over my comfy pants.  I began to realize how sad and weak and alone I felt in that moment but that each bite was filling me with a temporary sense of purpose and comfort.  But then the slice was gone and I was on to the next.

It wasn’t until I spilled the container of garlic butter on one of my throw pillows that I realized I was lost.  I was sad.  I was unhappy.  I had lost my purpose and was no longer celebrating my moments.  I had not had any victories.  I had not set and crushed any goals.  I also realized that my stomach hurt and I had a huge piece of pineapple stuck in my teeth.  It’s cool.  I was eating alone.

I woke up late this morning and I looked at my phone to realize I had 10 minutes to get up and get my ass to my workout.  I made a mini goal to make it because I had made a mini goal to get 4 workouts in this week.  I was 10 minutes late and had to do 40 burpees, but I made it.

I also reached out to a few friends to find support with my recent bout of depression after being assaulted.  But that’s a whole other post.

#goalsbeingcrushed

I stepped on the scale this morning and weighed 153 pounds.

It’s just a number.

It’s.  Just.  A.  Number.