Today, and the past few days, have been hard. Not only did I start exercising regularly this week, but I’ve also had a lot of anxiety and negative emotions swirling around in my head. On top of being a total space case this week, I have been moody, unsure, full of sadness and doubt, and angry.

While somethings, I won’t go into just yet, I want to see how they resolve themselves first, I will say that because of my increased andctivity, I also have increased hunger. Or at least my brain thinks I do. I have been wound so tightly this week that I am in a perpetual state of exhaustion. But it also makes me hungry. I am having adrenaline rushes frequently, causing the exhaustion, and causing the hunger. And while these symptoms are real, what isn’t real is my justification for a French Vanilla latte from tims or a 10 pack of timbits or a large fry and coke. I don’t need these things to get through this, but my brain somehow convinces me that I do.

So I have taken to different ways to manage my state of constant insanity, I have taken to drawing, writing, walking, and exercise. Today, I ate a 10 pack of timbits and drank a tims French Vanilla, so I went for a walk after work. I took Gabe, it was quite the trek, but I also know that my body is better for it. I know that my goals are long coming, but it’s little decisions like these that will get me there. After work, I was royally pissed. I wanted to rip into anyone around me. And what was anger, turned I to sadness, loneliness, and exhaustion as the kilometers passed. But, as I made dinner, Piccadillo Soup, I took the time to Pat myself on the back about going for a walk, for taking the time to take care of my body, for moving myself one step closer to my goal, for not letting myself lash out at my family. All of these things are so important to me, and I would have messed every single one of those things up if I hadn’t gone on that walk.

For me, it’s not about not feelings these things. Of course, I would rather be happy and energetic and charismatic, but sometimes I’m spacey and sad and awkward. It’s a balancing act. And I can’t always control how I feel about a situation, but I can control how I manage those feels, those impulse reactions, or the aftermath of those decisions.

Thinking, breathing, being present. That’s what this year is for me. Because I am bad at those things. It’s about improvement, and not just accepting where I’m at, but striving for a different, if not better, me.




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