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