I think it’s been pretty clear to anyone who follows my blog that I’ve fallen into a deep funk over the past few months. I’ve found it difficult to find the positive words that usually come so easily to me. I’ve always been very open about my struggles with mental health in the hope that others in the same rocky boat know they are not alone; it’s vital to know that you are not alone. But if I carry on like this… where does it end?
At some point you realise that you have to pick yourself up and find a way to take back control. It isn’t easy. It takes a hell of a lot of energy and effort and a willingness to fight, which sometimes seems like the hardest thing in the world to do, but no-one else can do it for you.
I have given myself a good talking to and have begun to take the smallest of steps to climb out of this funk.
First on the agenda? Re-join the gym!
Having lost my way with fitness lately, I have made it my goal to get those endorphins back and kick some serious MS-butt.
I sensed an instant wave of relief wash over me just for filling in the online application. And a few days later, as I sat at home raring to go in my gym gear, I felt good, I felt right, I felt like me.
I began to feel like I could conquer the gym like never before – chuck in some weights, set the treadmill to full speed and watch me transform back into the sporting superhero I long to be. Of course, I wasn’t so deluded that I actually thought this was possible – I can’t even pull-off a star-jump for goodness sake! But, the enthusiasm was there and, aware that I needed to take it sloth-like slow, I entered the gym with more of a bounce in my step than I’ve had for a long ol’ time.
Seven minutes later I left the gym having proved to myself that I still have some fight left in me, I just need to take it really slow.
Forward is forward,
no matter how small the steps.