So the best part of the last year has been a disaster as far as my fitness/weight-loss journey has gone. It became an emotionally exhausting feat, stressing 24/7 about my eating and trying to squeeze in training amongst the million other things I’m trying to do in life. I don’t want to make excuses, but it takes such a toll and stopped making me happy. Now as a result I’ve piled on the weight, I’m barely training, which means I feel like crap 💩 all the time, I can’t sleep, I have no way to deal with stress and pressure of university on top of my two jobs and crazy home. I feel at such a loss, and just writing this I’m holding back tears because I’m so fed up of it being so god damned hard. Why couldnt I have been born with less of an appetite, why did I let my training go and why does it seem so impossible that I’ll lose this weight when just last year it was so close. I’m so cross with myself for letting it get to this stage, I haven’t weighed and I’m not going to because I think it would crush me rather than motivate. Today was the first day back braving a hard class and trying to eat right and from the minute I came home all I could think about is food. I hate that it has to be such a big part of life for me, but in starting from scratch all over again I need to approach this with a healthier attitude. So I’m trying. I’m trying not to put too much pressure on myself and try to train 7 days a week because with my hectic schedule that’s just an impossibility that’s going to very quickly equal burnout both physically and mentally. I’m trying to remember the benefits of exercising, the triumph at fitting into something, or of feeling nice in something that I would have felt so uncomfortable in before. I’m trying to love me, to be okay with how I look even though it’s not how i want to stay. Because if I can’t I don’t think I’ll ever really be successful in this, nothing will ever be enough otherwise. I don’t know what message I’m trying to convey here, the point of this long winded post. But I had to vent, I had to acknowledge the effect this is having on me, confront it and deal with it so I can start again. It kills me saying it. Start again. Everything I fought tooth and nail to achieve, how far I could run, how heavy I could lift, how much weight I’d lost and strength and confidence that I’d gained...all lost. I need to mope over this, and then get up tomorrow, metaphorically dust myself off and keep going, for me. For my health, physical and emotional. For my confidence, and happiness. I’ve done it once, which means this time I know I can do it again.