2019 was an odd year. Literally. In hindsight, I think shortly after all the fantastic things I did in July, I went through what I call a mini depression. I was also painfully burnout, and I found myself highly unmotivated. I think we all have lulls in life. 2019 included dealing with ten years since my mom’s passing. I always thought I’d be elsewhere doing something fabulous at thirty-five. Yet not so much. Yet, I never sat down to take into account life was not so bad.
Yes, I was beyond burnt out. Between a job where I was always stressed out because it didn’t end after work, I feel that I have mostly gotten that under control. The thing is we need time off as much as we need money. We need to be able to come home at night and not have to continue working. That’s not a lot to ask for, and quite frankly, no matter what kind of job you have, that should be an option. Lives are not meant to be lived in constant dissatisfaction where our blood pressure grows increasingly high even though we’ve never had an issue with our blood pressure our whole life.
I realize that might shock most people because of my weight, but I’ve never been on high blood pressure medicine until now. It’s a low-dose, but it’s a dose. It’s something I want to get off of inevitably. And I have been working my hardest to remember to relax on some nights. I refuse to work myself into an early grave. Some of that includes losing weight. And it’s not me buying into diet culture, but purely knowing that I can’t eat horrible shit day in and day out and expect to be healthy. I exercise five to six days a week. I’m attempting to remember to strength train two to three days a week.
It’s crazy to type that though because I know when people see me, they probably think, that girl probably weighs a billion pounds. Okay, maybe not a billion, but I know people look at me and don’t think I am accomplishing 200 plus minutes of exercise a week. I’m oddly okay with that despite me typing this. And I’m okay with that because it has been almost a year since I started therapy. A year. How insane is that? Is that a poor choice of words? Maybe. But it’s crazy to me.
The crazier part is knowing how far I’ve come. I started therapy as a completely insecure fucking mess who quite frankly let most people use me like a damn doormat. Wipe your feet here, please. It doesn’t matter what I think; please do go ahead. What’s that? You were rude as hell and disrespectful, but it’s okay. I probably deserved it. I didn’t, though. No one does. I’M A HUMAN BEING. I AM FUCKING AWESOME. I DESERVE TO BETTER MYSELF AND MY LIFE.
Say those words. Repeat them. Write them over and over again. Let them become your best friends until you know them. I know I am. It’s cliche to say new year, new me. But in this case, it’s a new me. Boundaries are in place. My mindset has grown. I can say no without feeling guilty. I’m beautiful the way I am, but I can always be better. I can still do better. I should always strive for that.
And my goal this year is to do that ultimately. And to remember to continue this journey here with you guys. Cheers to the new decade. But more importantly, cheers to you and me.