growing piles.

So, in the last like 10 days a lot has changed.

First of all, I joined Beer City Crossfit. Before anyone starts throwing shade, let me remind you I'm 27, I do what tf I want and I'm not asking for anyone's opinion. I know what you're probably thinking, you have a blog and you're putting everything out there on the internets talkin' bout "I don't want your opinion" like how dumb are you? but here in blogspace, I make the rules. That red "X" up there will shut me up and costs approximately $0.00 to use. After my less than graceful exit from Gold's last week, I kind of realized a couple things. One of them being that I've never really done my own programming or been super successful on my own, and not that I doubt I COULD do it (let's be honest, I do doubt that) but actually carrying it out is another. I worked with Darin for like 2.5/3ish years on and off, then picked up weightlifting under Nick and Tamara and then when I was in IL, I was on my own and that was a shit show. So I talked to some friends who had been to BCCF and decided to email the box info address and ask how good they were at scaling stuff because let's be honest I need to scale tf out of everything, especially because of my back. However, ya'll remember how my shoulder was jacked up? not anymore. They're so. much. better. If this continues, I'm also going to pick up oly again because it will always be my favorite. But anyways. Abby emailed me back and I went to foundations and the rest is history. I've been to like 4 classes and every coach has been absolutely phenomenal about working with me on what I can/can't do and never make me feel like I'm being too much, and I have yet to meet anyone who isn't super friendly.

It all sounds great, right?

enter; anxiety. The part of my brain that I want so badly to shut the fuck up. It takes me a solid 15 minutes every time I go to workout to get out of the car and go in. Then sometimes I spend another 5 in the bathroom giving myself a pep talk about how it's going to be fine, it always is. I don't know why, but in my mind everyone is always wondering what tf I'm doing there, thinking about how I can't do really anything, hell I can't even squat to depth anymore. Box jumps always have to be step ups, I can't do a push up, I can't run because it hurts my knees, so obviously everyone else is clearly wishing I would just go home. Even though the rational part of my brain knows that my experience at the box has been that 1)no one gives a rats ass what I'm doing compared to everyone else and 2)my effort is as valid as everyone else's no matter how much scaling I do or don't do. I also know that making fun of a fat person at the gym is like making fun of a homeless person at a job fair, they're actively trying to fix the problem. But that didn't stop me from sitting in my car crying after work because I was so torn on what I wanted to do. When I was ambien'd up earlier this week, I registered for The Open. Fact; if I take my sleep medicine and don't go to sleep when I feel tired, it's VERY much like I'm drunk. I do a lot of things like bully republicans (mostly Ted Cruz and Paul Ryan) on twitter, shop online and register for athletic events well beyond my current abilities. Once I ate half a pan of brownies (woke up with one under my pillow) and had woken my twin sister up to force her to braid my hair that was way too short at the time...so that kind of sleep medicine is what I was hyped up on when I registered. Anyways, there are days like today when my anxiety wins. It's exhausting being in a constant state of worried about everything, and today I needed to come home and lay down after work, so that's what I did. I've been working overtime at work, trying to not eat like a complete jackass and just deal with life.

So that's where I am right now, seemingly where I was 10 days ago, I just didn't burst in to tears at the box. Also, I don't know why I cry about everything. But you know what else is happening? Next Monday I'm going to volunteer orientation for Haywood Street Church to work with their homeless ministry and I am SUPER pumped about that. If I can't make working with the homeless community my full time job (yet), I'm going to start spending a few hours a week/weekend doing what I can. I also am in touch with the food bank around here to start volunteering there too, helping people apply for nutrition assistance. It seems counter productive to put more on my plate, but #priorities. My therapist in IL (whom I miss dearly) and I talked often about growing my pile of good things. You can't always downsize the bad pile, like I can't do anything about my mom having to do chemo for breast cancer or my brother dying, but I can do things that make me happy and help other people. Keep adding to the pile of good and eventually it will outgrow the bad. Focusing more on the things in my control and less on the things outside of it.

So for now, I am going to curl up with Kevin [my cat, for any of my new readers] and catch up on my netflix que.

Thank God it's Friday, ya'll.

xoxo
-Nessie

one upon a tonight.

once upon a tonight, I signed up to take "goldsburn" which from my understanding is Gold's version of Orange Theory. Class started at 6 so I checked in at the front desk, signed a liability waiver and changed clothes. I did some warm up cardio and spent a healthy amount of time stretching and walked to the door at 5:55, promptly burst in to tears and left. Why? I don't fucking know. All I know is that I have had a metric fuck ton of shitty stuff happening in the last few weeks and I am tired, stressed out and full of unfiltered anxiety coursing through my veins.

I want to know what happened to me. When I was at my lowest weight, the month my brother died coincidentally, I didn't give a shit to walk in to a group fitness class. I remember I was doing a shoulders/quads/conditioning workout one day and decided I didn't like the conditioning Darin had written (surprise) so I decided I'd take the step class, made it 30 minutes in that and left. No tears included. I didn't think twice about it. I know things are different now, but I am a mess. I feel like I am literally just trying to make it through the day and if I do so without having a nervous breakdown then I call that day a win. I'm so all over the place with everything and I feel like I go 100 miles an hour in 100 different directions.

I'm really tired constantly and I know that's because of a few things, mostly my diet and stress levels. Work is killing me, I've cried 3 times in the last 2 days because I feel so out of my element. I'm not good at dealing with patients especially when they're upset and I feel like I spend half the time talking to them stuttering my way through an explanation that doesn't make sense. I go all in or all out with my diet, tracking every gram of food I sniff or chugging a venti caramel machiatto and eating a donut for breakfast.

Anxiety is a killer, ya'll. I laugh about all the thoughts that go through my head but here's a fun story. I made an appointment for a strategy session with Kevin and I don't mean my cat. I mean Kevin Martin, ya'll remember when I worked with him 3 years ago? trust me, I did. In the midst of trying to sort my life out, I thought it might be a good idea to maybe go back to Plank 1 or 2 times a week. Get back in the swing of things, ya know? The entire drive to plank, which was probably less than 10 minutes from my office, I spent worrying about walking in, talking, and what I'd say if he asked me any variety of questions. You know what happened? I spent an hour and a half discussing things like my goals, what I did for nutrition now, what I wanted out of the experience, can you be healthy if you eat cake, nutrient timing, how many gummy worms constitute a serving, etc, and it felt like I was talking to an old friend. You know what that taught me? apparently nothing because I couldn't even talk to the guy teaching my goldsburn class tonight.

All this sounds like I should spend the money I'm using on a gym membership and get some mental health help, right? right. But unfortunately I have yet to find a therapist in AVL who takes my insurance with office hours I can work with, so that's super fun and by super fun I mean really awful. Asheville is a super underserved population as is, and I have issues finding a therapist WITH health insurance so I can't imagine if you didn't have any.

So here I am, a mess and half per the usual...except now just with random outbursts of tears. Was there a purpose to this entry? not really, it's just nice to get this out of my head and on to paper(blog) and with that, I am off to lay down and try to get some rest.

xoxo
Nessie.