Wednesday, September 11, 2019

Well, shit, 1.5 years of progress down the drain.

I honestly didn’t think I would be here. I worked hard for a year and a half making slow, sustainable, and better changes to my lifestyle. I lost ~35lbs. It’s not a lot, but it was progress and it was consistent. Slow and steady wasn’t an issue for me. I knew I’d reach my goals eventually. I may not have been 100% consistent, but I was dedicated.

Then I started taking an anti-depressant/anxiety.

I knew it could potentially cause an increased appetite, increased cravings, etc. I thought I was prepared. I could handle it.

What I wasn’t prepared for what how much better I feel. How much happier I am. How I don’t obsess over it all.

Off of the mediation, even though I was making fitness and weight loss improvements, I hated my body. I was proud of my progress but any slip up would ruin my day. I was a failure. I would lay in bed at night mentally beating myself up, imagining someone stabbing me/punching me because I was such a stupid, fat, ugly failure who should’ve lost so much more by now.

But, I was dedicated.

It was easy to go to the gym. Easy to meal prep. Easy to count calories because there was the punishment of feeling that terrible if I didn’t do well.

Now, I’m happy. Genuinely and truly happy for the first time in 6 years. Since losing my best friends.

I gained the weight back. All of it. Probably more, but I can’t bring myself to step on the scale yet. It makes me very sad, very disappointed.

The dedication is so much more difficult for me this time around. I started a new job across town and my workout routine has been in shambles. Since started medication, I’m increasingly exhausted in the mornings. Since starting the new job, making the classes I attended is much more difficult.

I’m disappointed.

I’m getting married in two months and I wanted to be fit for it. Instead, I’m back to being over 200lbs.

I hate how much harder it is this time around. It feels, truly, 100x more difficult now that my depression and anxiety is taken care of.

And that sucks.

But I’m here, with you, doing the only thing that I can: taking it one day at a time.

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