It gets worse before it gets better.
You just need motivation.
No one ever drowned in sweat.
Those are all messages that are meant to be inspirational. They are meant to make you get off the couch and go for that run you’ve been promising yourself you would do. Meant to make you feel good about yourself, make you feel as though you are capable.
But what happens when you hit that wall and nothing seems to feel better? What happens when you gain the weight and realize you’re no longer 16 and can take the weight off just as easily as you gained it. What happens when you are faced with life choices that are so hard that you forget just how easy it is to lose track of everything?
This is me in February 2012.
Weighing in at a whopping 132 lbs.
Now this is me, last week, August 2013, 18 months later.
Weighing in at 165 lbs.
Yes. You read that right. I have gained 32 lbs in the last 18 months and I am completely ashamed of every single one of those pounds.
I have blamed about half of those on the pregnancy and the abortion and the other half I just gave up caring and trying to find something to blame it on. The pounds literally kept adding up and I gave up caring until I stood in the mirror, naked, ready to go take my shower and dropped to my knees and cried hysterically for forty-five minutes.
How did I let myself get this far? How have I let this get so out of hand? I don’t remember the last time I was able to stand naked in front of my boyfriend, let alone let him touch me in a sensual way.
I need to find a new job, one that makes me feel good about myself.
I need to look into going back to school and making a career for myself.
I need to get a hair cut and finally start feeling good about myself again.
I want to be able to shop for lingerie and not feel the need to push them at the end of my closet or wear them with no lights on.
I want my boyfriend to see me and think to himself how lucky he is to have me.
I want to feel like me again.
… But where do I start? Why is the first step always the hardest one to make?