The struggle is real, y’all.
For whatever reason — or, well, perhaps for multiple reasons — my depression and anxiety have been at peak levels all week. I haven’t exercised since Monday and on Tuesday I had a complete freak out over something completely stupid and I’m like crying and texting BC and thankfully he was perfectly chill and took it in stride.
That said, he did point out that today is the inauguration of President Trump and tomorrow I have my book release party and so, y’know, perfectly reasonable things to stress me out. And then I had a check in call with my Eating Psychology Coach on Wednesday and she asked if it could be hormone stuff. I’ve had my IUD for about two months now and my cycle is all fucked up but, yes, definitely some hormone shit happening right now, too.
So, right. Fitness Friday.
I walked for about 20 minutes on my treadmill on Monday and then did a FitStar workout.
And, um, yeah. That was it.
I also didn’t read, like, at all this past week and while that might not seem like much, for me, that’s almost always the one indicator I have that my depression is in full swing: my inability to read. But over the past couple of days I’ve been reading a little bit before bed (and one morning when I first woke up) so there’s light at the end of the tunnel.
Love from the ashes,