Y’s turtleneck top – The Row pant – Jil Sander shoes
I’ve had lots of mini break downs lately. My mother was here for a couple weeks and although I love her dearly it’s difficult to always be talking about what’s going to happen (or not, which is even worse not knowing…) or about what I need to do with regards to dad’s estate since I’m solely responsible for doing everything now. Having the responsibility doesn’t bother me, but rather I feel like I’ve simply not had time to grieve and work my feelings out from all of it. It seems like everything came crashing down all in the span of one month and now we are sitting in a holding pattern of dread, fear, stress and anxiety until late December (mom’s sentencing) and beyond.
As a result, any patterns I’ve had to keep myself sane have flown out the window. I’m not exercising regularly. I’m not eating as well as I used to and suddenly find myself binging. I also have been having mini minor panic attacks simply from talking about any of this. I’ve also noticed I’m justifying purchasing anything and everything because I just fucking need instant gratification now on something that won’t make me want to punch a wall or scream.
I sorta had one of those “oh wait, I remember when….” moments this past weekend, which stopped me in my tracks. Many years ago when I was unemployed for a ridiculously long time I didn’t buy clothes (granted I bought other little things, but didn’t spend nearly as much money) and I exercised a lot. Oh yeah, remember that time Jen when you went FIVE YEARS without even buying a new pair of underwear or socks? It wasn’t until well after I’d had a job that I even thought about buying clothes and then remembered I kinda needed new underwear because I got tired of it sagging off me. Part of that was due to my underwear being so old and part was due to having lost weight. Remembering that made me realize I honestly don’t need to buy anything at this point in time. Would it be nice to have x, y and z items? Sure, but I really don’t need them and I’ve lived well enough without such things before, so what’s the point of getting it now?
I also remembered every other time I was miserable and tried to think what the hell I did to normalize myself. It ended up being exercise. So today I got out my notebook and nearly cried at the numbers as I put them down. In April I could do 4 reps of chin-ups: 15, 13, 12, 10. That means I did 15 consecutive chin ups in one rep before pausing for a couple minutes and then doing another 13 and so on. God fucking damn my arms were amazing then. Today’s numbers: 4, 4, 3, 3. Pitiful. I don’t even want to think about whether or not I can do a pull-up and those are much harder.
I miss feeling strong. I miss my boring routine. I miss hating exercising – if that makes sense. I’m writing it here to kick myself in the ass and give myself something to focus on again since I’ve been all over the place lately. This will be an enormous challenge as well knowing what’s coming up and knowing the weather is not going to get any warmer now. Also holidays are coming soon and that’s always throws a wrench on any routine at all.