I still have them. Today seems to be one. No matter how hard I try to keep the abyss at bay it's always lapping at the back of my mind and every once in a while it comes flooding in like the Mississippi through a broken levy. When it does it washing away everything with its destructive force. The progress I've made becomes meaningless and it's once again a struggle to simply function. I've finally accepted the inevitability of these floods. It's never a matter of if but rather when they will happen and just how deep the murky water will get this time. I find it necessary to cling to anything that floats, no matter how small in order to keep my head above. To keep from finally sinking into the blissful abyss that beckons. To escape into the dark, thoughtless, emotionless and uncaring oblivion of depression seems, at times, a welcome escape from life. Though having delved there often in previous years I know this not true there is that part of me that yearns for it, that so desperately wants to surrender. I despise these feeling and they laugh knowing they can so easily take control. They are the monster under the bed and there's no parent to turn on a light and scare them away. The only choice seems stay in bed and hope the monster finally tires or finally eats you. But the monster does neither, it simply reminds you it's under the bed.
There are times that I believe depression to be the worst of any disease. For many there is a cure, for others an inescapable conclusion, depression continues. There are some things that seem to lesson it, others that keep it at bay, at least temporarily, but it is always there. The one never ending constant in life. It is rather fascinating in that aspect. How one crossed wire in a brain can cause one to wander through life either floating in the abyss or running from it. Or there are some I suppose who run toward it, leaping head first from the most convenient point and entering the darkness with barely a splash. There are times I envy such people. To embrace the madness and let it have its way must be, at least in the short term, both exhilarating and empowering. Sadly, I know neither of those emotions are long lived. Nor is the person who takes that dive. What though is the other option? To fight, to struggle, to simply exist in hope that someday things will change? And yet knowing they never will. Yes, there are the good days to look forward to yet the bad seem always inevitable and sneaky. Like a mouse living in your wall. You know it's there, you hear it squeak on occasion and you never know when it's going to come through the wall, steel the cheese and shit on the counter. I hate that fucking mouse.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
The only person you have anything to prove to is yourself.
If you ever want to instantly alienate an obese person simply tell them they need to go on a diet. They'll build the tallest, thickest imaginary wall between themselves and you you've never seen. I know it's probably shocking to all those people who have never struggled with obesity but we know we're fat, we know it's not healthy, we know what we "should" do and being told by a "friend" or family member or doctor does absolutely nothing to help us. There's probably a thousand psychological reasons for this, maybe more. Until the person decides to do something to help themselves all the bad advice, all the suggestions, all the "I just care about you" comments amount to nothing. A person has to truly want to change, for their own reasons, before they will. They have to want it. If they don't, they won't.
I first realized this at a rather young age when I was pressured by my peers, adults, teachers, hell, the entire town, to play football. I didn't want to. I had no interest in it, it did nothing for me. You can't be good at something you don't care about or want to do. I wasn't. And I still often walk with a limp as a reminder of that fact. Later in life I stopped caring about pretty much everything, especially my health and my weight. I climbed inside myself and tried to eat myself to happiness or death, whichever came first. For some time I felt they were one and the same. And then things changed. Or rather, I changed things. Hard to say exactly what triggered that decision, I don't think it was any one thing but rather many. And here I am at 42, going to the gym 5 days a week and actually giving a shit about my health for the first time in....ever. April 1st will mark one year at the gym. That will be roughly 260 days spent bettering myself. Around 520 hours of sweat. August 28th with be my 3 year mark with bariatric surgery. Something that certainly wasn't the success I had hoped, but it at least got me heading in the right direction.
The first day I walked into the gym I didn't think I would last 10 minutes. I left two hours later. And I went back the next day. I had to force myself to go. I had to convince myself that it was something I needed, something I had to do. I told myself that I would feel better if I went and I fought back the clawing abyss that screamed "just say fuck it and stay home!". I didn't do it for anyone else. I didn't go back because someone told me I needed to lose weight. I went back to prove to myself that I could. I went back not to prove anything to those in the gym that first day who made asinine comments or who stared at me like I was some frightening creature that crawled from the muck to take up their space in their gym. No, I did it to prove to myself that I could. And I go back every day to do the same thing. I have no need, or interest, in proving anything to anyone other than myself. I have no need to put myself in competition with anyone other than myself. My goal is to do just a little more tomorrow than I did today.
Too often we convince ourselves to do things for the wrong reasons. We do them because "society" says we are supposed. We do them because the media has convinced us that it's what we want. We do them to satisfy someone. How often do we do thing for the one reason that really matter, because we want to? Women have it far worse I think than men do, at least when it comes to physical appearance and how they conduct themselves in public. Why else would they put on those uncomfortable shoes, cram themselves into clothes that are too tight and spend hours putting on makeup? How many women starve themselves so they can fit that absurd standard that has been created for them? And we wonder why these fad diets fail so miserably (unless you're the one making millions off of them) and why people are always looking for that magic pill to fix everything or that new book with all the answers to all those pesky questions life throws at us. You can't change successfully if your reason for doing so it to make someone else happy, you have to do it for you.
I now look forward to going to the gym. I remember those first few weeks and what a struggle it was with some kind of amusement. I need my time in the gym now. It's how I relax. It makes me feel better. It's almost a form of meditation. I pick something up and I tell myself I'm going to lift it this many times before I put it down. And then I prove to myself that I can. I don't worry about what anyone else thinks or says or does. I think only about what I am doing then, what I did yesterday and what I will do tomorrow. I'm not in the gym every day because it's "bikini season" soon or because I want to look like that dude in that movie with the cut abs. I'm in the gym because I want to be the best me I can be. I don't know what that is yet but I will when I get there. I don't go to impress people, I don't go to show others what I can do. I go because I want to go. Because it helps me. And that is why I keep going back.
There is a guy on Youtube named Elliot Hulse, he has two different "channels", his personal one and another called "Strength Camp". His slogan is "Be the strongest version of yourself". This really struck me when I heard him say it. Don't strive for the goals of others or of society, be the strongest you you can be. If that's a ditch digger then awesome. If it's an athlete or a musician or a teacher or a parent or anything else, be the strongest you you can be. Not everyone can dunk a basketball and not everyone can write code or play a piano or fix a car. Not everyone can bench 500 pounds or squat a thousand, and they shouldn't feel the need to try. It only ends in frustration and injury. There comes a point in life when you have to not only accept your limitations, whatever they are, but embrace them as well. We're all capable of amazing things. So I will keep going to the gym to work on being the strongest version of me possible. I may never squat a thousand pounds but I'm getting close to leg pressing it.
If you ever want to instantly alienate an obese person simply tell them they need to go on a diet. They'll build the tallest, thickest imaginary wall between themselves and you you've never seen. I know it's probably shocking to all those people who have never struggled with obesity but we know we're fat, we know it's not healthy, we know what we "should" do and being told by a "friend" or family member or doctor does absolutely nothing to help us. There's probably a thousand psychological reasons for this, maybe more. Until the person decides to do something to help themselves all the bad advice, all the suggestions, all the "I just care about you" comments amount to nothing. A person has to truly want to change, for their own reasons, before they will. They have to want it. If they don't, they won't.
I first realized this at a rather young age when I was pressured by my peers, adults, teachers, hell, the entire town, to play football. I didn't want to. I had no interest in it, it did nothing for me. You can't be good at something you don't care about or want to do. I wasn't. And I still often walk with a limp as a reminder of that fact. Later in life I stopped caring about pretty much everything, especially my health and my weight. I climbed inside myself and tried to eat myself to happiness or death, whichever came first. For some time I felt they were one and the same. And then things changed. Or rather, I changed things. Hard to say exactly what triggered that decision, I don't think it was any one thing but rather many. And here I am at 42, going to the gym 5 days a week and actually giving a shit about my health for the first time in....ever. April 1st will mark one year at the gym. That will be roughly 260 days spent bettering myself. Around 520 hours of sweat. August 28th with be my 3 year mark with bariatric surgery. Something that certainly wasn't the success I had hoped, but it at least got me heading in the right direction.
The first day I walked into the gym I didn't think I would last 10 minutes. I left two hours later. And I went back the next day. I had to force myself to go. I had to convince myself that it was something I needed, something I had to do. I told myself that I would feel better if I went and I fought back the clawing abyss that screamed "just say fuck it and stay home!". I didn't do it for anyone else. I didn't go back because someone told me I needed to lose weight. I went back to prove to myself that I could. I went back not to prove anything to those in the gym that first day who made asinine comments or who stared at me like I was some frightening creature that crawled from the muck to take up their space in their gym. No, I did it to prove to myself that I could. And I go back every day to do the same thing. I have no need, or interest, in proving anything to anyone other than myself. I have no need to put myself in competition with anyone other than myself. My goal is to do just a little more tomorrow than I did today.
Too often we convince ourselves to do things for the wrong reasons. We do them because "society" says we are supposed. We do them because the media has convinced us that it's what we want. We do them to satisfy someone. How often do we do thing for the one reason that really matter, because we want to? Women have it far worse I think than men do, at least when it comes to physical appearance and how they conduct themselves in public. Why else would they put on those uncomfortable shoes, cram themselves into clothes that are too tight and spend hours putting on makeup? How many women starve themselves so they can fit that absurd standard that has been created for them? And we wonder why these fad diets fail so miserably (unless you're the one making millions off of them) and why people are always looking for that magic pill to fix everything or that new book with all the answers to all those pesky questions life throws at us. You can't change successfully if your reason for doing so it to make someone else happy, you have to do it for you.
I now look forward to going to the gym. I remember those first few weeks and what a struggle it was with some kind of amusement. I need my time in the gym now. It's how I relax. It makes me feel better. It's almost a form of meditation. I pick something up and I tell myself I'm going to lift it this many times before I put it down. And then I prove to myself that I can. I don't worry about what anyone else thinks or says or does. I think only about what I am doing then, what I did yesterday and what I will do tomorrow. I'm not in the gym every day because it's "bikini season" soon or because I want to look like that dude in that movie with the cut abs. I'm in the gym because I want to be the best me I can be. I don't know what that is yet but I will when I get there. I don't go to impress people, I don't go to show others what I can do. I go because I want to go. Because it helps me. And that is why I keep going back.
There is a guy on Youtube named Elliot Hulse, he has two different "channels", his personal one and another called "Strength Camp". His slogan is "Be the strongest version of yourself". This really struck me when I heard him say it. Don't strive for the goals of others or of society, be the strongest you you can be. If that's a ditch digger then awesome. If it's an athlete or a musician or a teacher or a parent or anything else, be the strongest you you can be. Not everyone can dunk a basketball and not everyone can write code or play a piano or fix a car. Not everyone can bench 500 pounds or squat a thousand, and they shouldn't feel the need to try. It only ends in frustration and injury. There comes a point in life when you have to not only accept your limitations, whatever they are, but embrace them as well. We're all capable of amazing things. So I will keep going to the gym to work on being the strongest version of me possible. I may never squat a thousand pounds but I'm getting close to leg pressing it.
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