It is not secret that I am dark and twisty, and it’s no secret that I have a love for weightlifting. These two worlds are constantly conflicting.

I started my new journey of my 20’s in September of last year, I began weightlifting consistently and started taking control of my stress and depression.
When I was put on medication it helped control my fluctuating body weight and my body holding on to cortisol. I have a habit of having anxiety daily, literally 24/7, and instead of my hormone levels returning back to normal I am constantly in a fight or flight mode. My body holds on and stores glucose along with insulin production.
I can eat as healthy as possible but no matter that, I’m still overeating or if I don’t then I end up never releasing any hormone and therefore the fat in which everything is stored.

From about September-December, my weight dropped down to normal and I felt really great about myself. My body was progressing and my chemical imbalances were finally evening out as well as I thought they would. I made the decision to go off my medications and it was hellish at first. But I honestly felt as though I was strong enough and able to learn how to control my mind. Except, I didn’t realize that even though I could control my mind in the slightest, my body and the way it operates would be on its own terms.

I have gained about 20 lbs. since November. Half could very well be muscle and I’m told by my doctors that I am incredibly healthy and maybe my body just runs better at this weight than the lower weight I got incredibly used to.

After panicking for the whole summer, and hating my body, not taking advantage of my weekends off and being happy, frolicking in my bikini; I have made the executive decision to return back to medication. Not because I feel bad that I can’t fit into my pants. My body needs help regulating, every day, and from orders from my doctor it is okay to go back on medication from time to time if you need it.

I knew it was time when I didn’t want to wake up, or reply back to text messages. I realized that I was having no emotion to people in my life, completely careless and having no desire to take part in my own life. If medication keeps me alive, and breathing, and allows me to keep living my life instead of looking into someone else’s, I won’t be ashamed of doing it anymore.

So, my plan you probably ask?
One, stop looking back at what my body turned into a year ago when today my body has capabilities of doing more than it before.
Two, buy new jeans! I can rip my old ones because my quads and booty have grown but I deserve to feel comfortable in my own skin, so I’m buying some new fucking jeans because my body got weird.
Three, take medication, vitamins, and find new workout plan. Do it for myself and my own health. This is my livelihood.
Four, enjoy the process and not stress so much by the fact my body will look differently and do more or less than someone else. I need to understand that I will constantly change, and it’s okay to look in the mirror one day and not like what you see. It isn’t however okay to look in the mirror, not like what you see, and then punish yourself over it. I’m already a mess and the last thing I need is to push myself over the edge.

Last but not least, the reason why I have done everything over the last year and a half is to make my dad happy. He would be incredibly impressed of how I have pushed myself and gone further into weightlifting and making it my sport and lifestyle. I think he will only support me being happy and healthy, even though I’ll always be damaged by what happened, if medication helps me get out of bed then that’s what I will do.

Stay tuned.

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