I don't know where to start, because I'm always starting over. I'm constantly finding myself stumbling...crawling...back to square one. I'm at a place where I've learned to forgive myself for a set back or two as long as I don't continue making the same mistakes, but when a mistake happens three, four, five, twenty five times...what then? What does this mean? What does this say about me?
Last Friday was a disaster. I didn't even go to the gym that day. Instead I decided I was giving up, and went to sleep at four in the afternoon. I didn't want the world to see me. I didn't want to see myself. I was done.
The thing about me though? I don't stay in a place of quitting. Apparently, being completely defeated isn't in my nature. Saturday, I got up and I went to work. Sunday I got back in touch with some desperately needed self-care by staying in bed and devouring a 400 page novel. Yesterday, I attempted to get back in the gym. I ended up leaving (another momentary decision to give up) but returning later to finish my workout. And today...today I finally feel like at least one foot is back on track. I went to work, I ate in a manner that didn't cause me distress, I went to the gym, and my reward? A little baby bicep bump and comments from two separate people about some back gains I apparently have happening. Finally, a glimmer of hope!
My mental state is still fragile. I feel like the smallest thing could send me spiraling back into a pit of self-loathing.
But not now. Not today.
And I will always keep starting over if that's what it takes.