20/20

#HAWMC Day 30: There’s a reason why we have the saying,  “Hindsight is 20/20.” What do you wish you had known at the beginning of your patient journey that would have made it easier and less scary?

I'm one for reflection. And there are a lot of questions I could ask myself. A lot of things I could doubt about the past, knowing what I know. I could ask myself: if I knew I'd have to make the decision to give up biological children, would I have thought about adoption in my 20s, before my condition really reared it's ugly head? Would I have started my business, knowing how tough it would be at times when I woke up horribly depressed and couldn't move? Knowing how much the stress of it could cause me to cycle? It would have been easier to stay in my fitness job, where I had set times and wasn't much required to work when not physically at work, certainly. Would I have medicated myself up, gone to extensive therapy, and possibly not gone through all of the tumultuous personal ups and downs - a divorce, a broken engagement, and more? I have no idea. But I don't believe in regret, nor do I believe in looking back much, unless it's a nice bit of nostalgia here and there. 

What I wish I'd known at the beginning was that I wasn't alone. I wish I'd known about all of the other health activists. I wish I'd known about the strength that we could draw from each other. I wish I'd known how amazing my support group would be, so that I could start it sooner - not only for myself, but for the others as well. 

But mostly, I wish I'd known it wasn't my fault. I blamed myself. I blamed myself for getting into a marriage that I wasn't happy in, that I knew I wouldn't be happy in. I blamed myself for being so unhappy that I couldn't stay in it. I blamed myself for not getting where I wanted to be with my career. I blamed myself for the problems (or most of them) in my engagement. I blamed myself for friendships that went awry. I allowed my self esteem to get trampled on. Then I blamed myself for allowing my self-esteem to get trampled on. Why wasn't I strong enough? Why wasn't I secure enough in myself? Why am I so high strung? Why can't I see the world like others? Why have I changed so much from who I used to be? 

And by saying I wish I'd known it wasn't my fault, I'm not placing the blame on anyone else. But it's like having severe asthma and blaming yourself for not being able to run a marathon as fast as your friends (or ever). Everyone else might think that if you train hard enough you can do it - maybe they even have asthma and they did it, so they transfer that to you. But you know that no matter what they say, your body won't let you. And eventually, perhaps you accept it, and decide to take up other pursuits which don't cause you to struggle to breathe. And maybe you'll no longer see your marathon-running friends so much because they don't understand, or they do, but they don't want to take time away from marathon training. But either way, it's not your fault. Acceptance of this doesn't mean that you're in denial or that you're making excuses or that you're not holding yourself accountable. It means you do the best you can, be the best version of you that you can, and acknowledge that maybe it doesn't fit with what others need and want. 

I wish I'd known who I was deep down, and how to be true to that self. I wish I'd been able to separate my vision of myself, others' vision of me, and who I really am when you peel away the layers of baggage and illness and shame and years of blaming myself for things that were often out of my control. 

Do I wish I could go back in time and know then what I know now? I do not. Because I wouldn't be who I am now. There are certainly things I might have changed if I'd known. But if I'd done so, I  wouldn't have experienced the things I have, and grown as a result of them. Which means I wouldn't be the same person today. And while I'm not on the path I thought I'd be, I don't think it's a bad path. It's just different. Like me. 

With A Little Help From My ... Apps (and other stuff)

#HAWMC Day 30;  What’s your favorite health-related product? Share it with your community and tell them why you love it so much and how it has helped you on your patient journey.

I'm honestly not big on product reviews on my blog. It makes me feel like I'm trying to sell something, like people will think someone's paying me to give them a plug. But I'm going to try to complete this in a round about way by giving a few options that have helped me. I'm skipping over the obvious answer here, which is to say, my meds, because I'm not going to try to "prescribe" them or promote them to anyone. That's way too person a choice for each of us based on individual needs. 

• My meditation/nature sound apps. I've found a few so far. My favorites include
• Relax Melodies (there are numerous versions of this) 
• Nature Sounds
• Rain, Rain 

• Meditation oasis: Meditation is like exercise to me - I love the end result. I even enjoy it when I get going. But sometimes hypomanic me has a tough time being convinced to sit silently and "do nothing". When this happens, I find guided meditation helps. I like both the site/podcasts and the app (it costs $1.99 for the app, I think). 

•  Coach.me app:   This is a goal setting app, in which you can create your own goals, join those set by others, and even have guided coaching opportunities. I've seen everything on here from "pray more" to "write daily" to "learn to do 100 push-ups" to "stop smoking so much pot" (yes, someone has actually vocalized this goal on the app and others seem to appreciate it, based on its popularity. It's not, however, one I require). The app helps keep me on track with daily tasks when my mind is messy. 

• My Five Star spiral notebook. I'm totally serious on this. It's always one subject, always five star, and I try not to repeat a color twice in a row. It's what I write in every day. As you know by now, writing is ever so important to me. 

• My Keurig: Totally not kidding here, either. I love coffee. Sometimes it's the only way I get through the day, especially when I wake up in a depressive cycle. I try to set up my coffee on auto-brew the night before, but sometimes I'm too tired to grind the beans and set up the coffee. That's right, I'm sometimes too fatigued to make coffee (this should tell you the seriousness of my fatigue). The ability to make a keurig cup in about thirty seconds, and to switch to my decaf pods when needed, instead of "just drinking another cup of caffeinated because it's already made and I don't want to waste it," is also very good for my health, particularly when I'm leaning towards hypomania. Sorry, environment. I'm usually very eco-friendly, but score 1 for Keurig on this one.

Can I review my dog? Probably not. Besides we already dedicated a whole post to her here in #HAWMC. So I think that's it from here. What products, apps, and other inventions keep you going? 

H.E.A.L.T.H.

#HAWMC Day 28:  H.E.A.L.T.H.  Use “health” as an acronym and come up with words that represent your Health Activist journey.

If the word cloud felt a bit like Mad Libs, this prompt trumps. I'm not going to lie - I absolutely used some online "words that begin with...." directories. I love words, but, like with titles and names, I kind of freeze when someone says "give me a word that begins with x (metaphorically) that means y."  Let me tell you, H is a toughie. My favorite from the list was "hallooing" but I couldn't manage to make it fit, sadly. Also, I tried not to use words that are actual medical terms - i.e. hypomania would have kind of been a cop-out with two h's here. 

H:  Habitual. While my condition itself is anything but habitual, being unpredictable as it is, I've had to make my life more habitual. Meals, meds, activities, sleep in a specific amount a specific time, every day, in order to minimize cycling as much as possible. 

E:  Eye-Opening. This might be a slight cheat, as I'm not sure it's one word. Since being diagnosed, my world has changed. Not only in daily habits, as described above, but in the way I look at the world. I've dedicated myself to learning as much as I can about my condition and mental health. I've become an advocate not only for mood disorders and mental health, but for chronic and invisible illnesses. I've gotten to known so many wonderful people through the mental health support and health activist communities, who I would otherwise have never known. And I've learned to look at myself in a different way, to explore parts of my personality I never knew existed. 

A: Assertive. I would say that those who know me would be in two camps here. Those who have seen me in say, a board room or leadership role, will have seen my assertive side. Those who know the side of me who has endlessly bent to others needs because I hate to make anyone unhappy, will raise their eyebrows at this, and I understand both views. But my condition, and particularly being an activist, has helped me to become more assertive (note: not aggressive, assertive). I've learned to speak up for myself, what I want, what I need. I've learned to stand up for my limits and stick to them instead of impossibly trying to make everyone else happy and making myself more ill in the process. It's not easy for me - my natural tendency to be a peacemaker tugs at the edges, but I'm learning. 

L: Lifelong. (This is one word, I googled it). My journey with my condition is lifelong. Therefore, I suspect my activist journey will be too. Unless they find a cure for every mental health condition in my lifetime, and I sadly don't see that happening. Nor do I unfortunately see everyone accepting mental illness the way they do other more visible illness. So until that happens, I'll keep advocating for education and awareness, and against stigma. 

T: Terrifying. Yep. There are times when my journey is terrifying. Times I wake up and barely recognize myself emotionally and mentally. Times I have a rapid cycle, and later barely recall what happened. There are times society makes it terrifying - like when they talk about making laws that require a therapist to disclose conversations with their patients to the government if they think they might harm themselves. It's terrifying when I hear about people losing their jobs because they had to take time off for their illness - something they'd never be able to do if the person, say, had a heart attack - and despite that it's illegal based on the ADA, they get away with it. And it's also terrifying at times to open up about the most private things about yourself, and have no idea how anyone will react. But it's also these things that fuel me to continue. 

H: Humorous. Say what? I know. My journey and my condition certainly aren't funny, and I'm willing to be neither are yours. But let me tell you, if you held a contest between stand up comedians and health activists to see who could make people laugh more, health activists would win hands down. We have to be funny. We struggle every day. We have to take so much of life seriously that we have to lighten up on the rest. We have to be able to laugh at ourselves and our situations sometimes - to somehow find some humor in a situation - because otherwise we'd spend our lives despairing. And it becomes a bit of a self-preservation technique to do so. If I make fun of myself first, if I call myself out first, then it takes the power away from others. It's no fun to call someone a name if they nod and say "yep, damn straight!".  It also helps to spread our message as activists. If all we did was lecture, if everything we did was always so serious, it would bring people down. People need to hear the message, but sometimes telling it in a funny way, in a "can you believe what happened to me now" way, or at least with a little quirky/snarky smart-assery, can keep people interested. And so we have to develop a good sense of humor. It's one thing that, no matter what else the doctors do and say, they can't take away from us. 

An Open Letter

#HAWMC Day 27:  Living with an illness, you are more likely to face people who don’t understand your daily struggles. Sometimes, these people can be inconsiderate and hurtful. Have you ever wanted to tell them how you really feel, but didn't feel like you were able to? Now is your chance! Write an open letter to the people who have hurt you. What would you say to them? What lessons would you like them to learn?

Dear...you, whoever you are that reads this and doesn't understand,

While I’m tempted to be sarcastic and snarky, which is my natural tendency when I’m hurt/frustrated/sad/angry, often as a form of self-defense, I will refrain. I think I covered that decently well a couple of posts ago. Instead, I’m going to try say what I think I need to get out, and you need to hear, in an educational and calm manner.

You don’t understand me. You may know that. You may think you do, you may even try to, but by virtue of the fact that you've hurt me (intentionally or otherwise), I know that you don’t. Because I’m not writing this to those people who have understood and said “I just can’t handle you.” They get it, they just don't want to be around it. I can accept that. Being supportive in the way I need isn't up everyone's alley and while I personally think that sucks, I get it, and I respect their honesty. I'm not easy, nor is my condition. I understand that as well as anyone. Hell, sometimes I don't want to be around myself. So, I’m writing this to the people who think they “get me” but don’t (that would be all of you who right now are saying to yourselves, "I don't need to read this, I totally get her"). Or the people who haven’t tried to get me. Or the people who just somehow can't fathom that my views of life aren't the same as theirs (doesn't everyone love feel better in big parties of people, drinking to relax?) Or they do, but they are so sure theirs is right and mine is screwed up that they refuse to even listen, to even consider that mine might not be better or worse, but just different. I'm even writing this to the people who want to get me and can't quite manage it yet. Because maybe this will help. and we can somehow reconcile our views.

I have an illness. A disease. I've had it since birth. I haven’t always known what it was, but I've known that it’s there. I see the world differently than you, and while in concept this might make sense to you, in actuality, it is "weird". I don’t see the world on the sliding scale that you do. The world in where things are horrible, bad, not so great, neutral, OK, decent, good, great, phenomenal. I see the world in three ways: Bad/awful/terrible/painful/urgent, I can’t feel anything, great/exciting.

My world doesn't have, or very rarely has, contentment. It doesn't have OK. It doesn't have “eh I’ll have to deal with that but no big deal”. Perhaps you could think of me as emotionally color blind. You have the whole rainbow. I have black, white, and maybe a few colors that look one way to me and another to you. We may both know this, and we may both try to compensate, but unless you've actually seen through my eyes, you'll never know exactly what your "green" or "red" or "purple" looks like to me. This doesn't mean I don’t have “normal” days, but even in my normal days, I have to strain to feel things the way you do. I know you think I’m not trying, that I’m making excuses, that I could choose to see the world the "right way" if I tried. Trust me, I try. You might not see the effort, because I might fail, but I'm trying. And in trying, I get more frustrated, I doubt myself, and my cycling gets worse, and my view of two end of the spectrum only intensifies.

I know that because of this, you think I’m too anxious, too high strung. That I can’t relax – which is not true, by the way, just watch me while I'm writing or reading, and you’ll see me relaxed. You think I’m too hyper, or annoying (in my hyperness and excitability). When I’m hypomanic, yet trying to be normal but unable to control my energy or stop talking, you think I’m trying to get attention, that I’m self-centered. You don’t know that I’m desperately trying to stop it and can’t, that I’m embarrassed even as it’s happening, that because of this, I actually hate attention on myself, and sometimes just hate myself and certainly my illness. It’s like holding onto the leash of a giant dog chasing a squirrel. You can pull with all of your might, and the dog is still going to drag you. That’s what happens to me in hypomania. I'm dragged through it with zero to very minimal control, or at least that's how it feels.

I know you think I’m no fun. I get too self-conscious, too easily upset. That makes me more self-conscious, more anxious, and less fun. I can't enjoy myself because I''m constantly hoping "please don't cycle, please don't have an episode."  And then I do, because I'm so stressed out that I cycle. And when I cycle, I'm either crying my brains out for "no reason" in the middle of a get-together, or I'm hyper and annoying and "attention seeking" (as you call it). So next time, I stay home. Out of what? Embarrassment, worry, panic?

My self-esteem, you think, makes me negative or mopey or jealous. But given the situation above, and how I know everyone feels about it, about my, when it happens, how can I possibly not be self-conscious, not feel badly about myself in others' presence, not worry? I’m not trying to ruin your time, honest. But I can’t drink much these days (it seems this is a primary fun activity of those I surround myself with, and there are very few social events that don't involve alcohol). Drinking makes me horribly depressed. I can’t stay up past about 11 PM at the latest because I’ll cycle worse if I don’t get enough sleep, and my cycling makes it impossible to sleep in at all. When I’m in a group and not emotionally close to everyone, the walls start to close in. I can’t breathe, my head starts to spin. Anxiety rises. I panic. I don’t mean to freak out, it just happens. I didn't even want to go to this... gathering, whatever it is… but I wanted time with you, and you were going, so I went, despite myself, despite knowing the risk. In turn, you'd probably rather I'd stayed home. So do I.

I've learned not to ask people to rearrange their plans on account of my anxiety. When you say "hey we're having people over for drinks" I know not to say "could we stay home and play cards (the non-drinking game kind) instead?". I get strange looks. You’re all social people, extroverts, without social anxiety. The more the merrier, right? Not for me. For me it’s the more the scarier. I think you and I are doing something, and it turns out to be 10 people. Walls. Closing. In. But I went, to try to be “normal”, in hopes that maybe, maybe this time, I could pull it off.  But that was a worthless hope. Because I can’t live in your world.  I don’t care about many of the things you care about and I certainly don’t care about sharing them with 30 of my closest friends. It’s nothing against you and your way of living. I wish often that I fit the norm. It’s just not how I’m built. I don’t want 30 close friends.  Three is just fine. Three people who truly get me, value me, for exactly who I am. (five would be fine, ten is my limit, and we can't all get together at the same time). Three people that would come over and drink coffee at my home or a coffee shop and talk about my health advocacy work or the books we just read or the book I’m writing, and not consider it a sacrifice but a good time.

Maybe you think I’m wrapped up in myself, my brain, my illness. Of course I am. How can I not be? It follows me around like a shadow. I have to think about it every day and work my day around it. What and when to eat, what to do, when to wake, when to sleep, which meds to take when. When I try to forget it just for a little while, it comes back, reeling at me, like an ugly monster. (You think you can stay up late? You think you can have fun like the others? You think you can pretend I don't exist? I'll show you!).

I don't want to lose people from my life. I'm not writing this to say, "you aren't like me and I'm not like you so our friendship is dissolved." I love my friends. I want them to understand. Because maybe then we can both be ourselves and meet in the middle. That would be amazing.

I’m sorry if we can’t come to an understanding – and understanding of who I am and how I need to live my life. I’m sure I’ll miss you. I’m less sure you’ll miss me. But I don’t have a choice. I've spent 35 years putting other people’s lives and happiness first. Thirty five years trying to be someone I thought I was, hoped I was. It's high time I stopped all that, and started to actually be me. 

Up We Go, Down We Go

#HAWMC Day 26: Life is full of ups and downs. Sometimes, the type of day we have is out of our control, but other times, we can influence how our day is going. Come up with 5 tips for changing your frame of mind when you’re having a bad day!

This post is very timely. I’m writing this a couple of days in advance, and I’ve had a shitty-ass week. Nothing horrendous, or nothing out of the ordinary. Just bad depression and the feeling of numbness and robot-like-ness that I described in my recent post. So perhaps this will help actually help me, as well as others today. 

1. Talk to someone. Doesn't have to be a therapist. Maybe a good friend that knows what you’re going through, or a loved one who will just let you talk without judgement. Or perhaps a support group – my online support group did wonders for  me this week. Hell, talk to your dog. Cry it out, let them look at you with those unconditionally loving eyes as you pet them. A caveat here:  make sure to choose carefully. Someone who’s going to offer empty platitudes like “it will all be ok” but has never actually been where you are is not helpful when you want the world to disappear. Similarly, there are people who are great with advice, but when I just need to vent about how much the day/my condition/whatever sucks, I don't want a detailed and chronological list of all of exactly how to fix the situation (I realize that this an ironic contrast to the theme of this blog). I'm not looking for a solution in that moment. I'm looking for empathy and a caring arm around my shoulder.

2. Write it out. I often find I don’t want to talk to ANYONE. If that’s the case, I write. It doesn't have to be even about how I’m feeling. That helps, of course, but for me, working on my novel or just thinking out loud, via my pen and paper, is soothing. As I've explained before, it gets me out of my head, which is exactly where I need to be on a depressive day.   If you’re not a writer, drawing, painting  (finger painting!) making collages, photographing, or any other artistic pursuit can help channel the energy into something else.

3. Get the hell out of dodge. Go for a walk, a drive, take a (literal) mental health day and get away from the atmosphere that’s causing you so much frustration/hurt/pain/anger, etc. *Another caveat: obviously if you physically can’t, this won’t work. Also, of course be mindful of the medications you've taken and your state of mind. If you feel you’re unsafe to drive, please, don’t do so.

4. Ground yourself. Take off your shoes and walk through the grass or the sand (play therapy with sand is amazing!), weather permitting. If you can’t  - or would rather not - do this, try a grounding meditation or yoga can be a huge help. Even just lying down listening to actual or app-inspired nature sounds can be helpful.

5.  Help someone else. One of the most cathartic parts of my online mood disorders support group is helping others. I know this sounds like a bunch of warm fuzzy stuff, but it’s true. There are times I’ll go on to post my own struggle and start reading what others have written. I’ll begin replying to and conversing with them, and eventually, I sign out of the group, forgetting that I never posted my own troubles.  To be clear, I do not support the “starving children in Africa” theory, which is to say that others have it worse so you shouldn't feel so bad. You should be allowed to have bad days, even if you aren't the sickest, most alone, unluckiest person in the world. Otherwise, how could you have a good day if you aren't the luckiest, happiest, person in the world? No, you’re allowed to be upset and sad and frustrated and have a shitty day and admit it, because you have some shitty-ass days and sometimes life isn't fair. But it’s not the comparison that makes me feel better when I help others. It’s the ability to do something nice for someone, the feeling of giving back or paying it forward. Because when I’m having a really out of control day, that does give me some control over something –   the ability to make someone’s day even the tiniest bit better.

One of the things I love most about the blogging community is hearing others' tips and advice. So feel free to share away! 

Fun With Words

#HAWMC Day 25:  Use Wordle to make a cloud full of words that come to mind when you think of your blog, health, condition, interests or community. Pro Tip: Use a thesaurus to make the branches of your “tree” extend further.

This was SO much fun. I love color and creating and so this was right up my alley. Wordle didn't work well for me (on my particular computer due to a firewall), so a fellow #HAWMC blogger suggested ABCya!, which is made for kids and therefore easy even for me. I decided to experiment with the colors and shapes. Each has the same words, but I thought I'd post both, just for some variety of color and alignment. The words are my own, chosen however they popped into my brain, to describe different aspects of my blog, and the content of it - both the written words, and the underlying thoughts behind those. I didn't stick to a particular word type (noun, verb, etc) or tense (past, present, future) so this came out much like a Mad Lib. I love Mad Libs. Enjoy!

Fitness Friday!

#HAWMC Day 24: Tell us about your how you maintain a healthy lifestyle. What is your favorite type of exercise?   How do you manage fitness with a chronic illness?

First off, I love alliteration, so hats off to you, WEGO Health! It gave me an easy title, and we know by now that titles are the trickiest part of my blog writing, so molto grazie! 

I'm a certified personal trainer and fitness instructor, and have been since I was 21. I spent the first five years post-college working in Corporate Fitness, and even after I left that, I taught a few classes at my local gym for several years. On occasion, I still take on private training clients. So like travel, fitness is also kind of my thing. 

As someone trained in health and fitness and the study of human movement (B.S. in Kinesiology over here!), I HATE fad diets. And I don't use the word hate, or capitalization, very often in my posts. Fad diets are bad for your health. Period. I believe in a balanced diet of 55-65% carbs, 15-25% healthy fats, and the rest protein and anything else (read: junk food and alcohol). Of course, this is for the body that can process such. If you have a gastrointestinal illness or a gluten allergy or diabetes/hypoglycemia or any other illness that affects your food and beverage intake, by all means you know the best "diet" (in the nutritional sense, not in the "trying to lose weight" sense) for you! I want to be clear on that. Hell, I salt load because of my tendency for hyponatremia. But I'm not a fan of eating one piece of grapefruit for breakfast followed by four protein shakes to substitute for meals and snacks, and calling it a day, all for the point of looking better. It's not healthy, and your body will, eventually, in some form, suffer from it. I promise you. Ok soap box over, couldn't help it! 

So, diet wise, I try to maintain a relatively balanced diet, being careful to add in salt/sodium when needed, and watch my dairy intake due to it's ability to increase my depression. Exercise wise, I also try to keep it relatively steady. With mood cycling, stability is the key. Everything should, ideally, be routine - sleep, diet, exercise. It sounds boring, I know. And sometimes, it is. But it has to be this way for sake of my brain, myself, and those around me when I happen to cycle. I attempt to get 30-45 minutes of cardio exercise at least three to four days a week, plus some strength training and stretching. I prefer running and biking (spin bike in winter/rainy days, outside in summer), though I'll jump on a cardio machine if I have to. I get outside when I can - hiking, kayaking, anything to be out in the warmth and sun. Cardio, in whatever form, helps me in my depressive phases, and helps me to clear my head in general. I have to be careful, though, as in a hypomanic phase, or when I'm in danger of cycling into one, exercise can make me worse. Adrenaline and endorphins can make me more hypomanic. So it's a bit of a tightrope that I have to walk (no pun intended on the exercise/walking thing, nor the cycling/cycling thing, but that worked out nicely for this pun-lover). 

Yoga is amazing not only for toning, balance, and flexibility, but for countering cardio intensity of my other workouts. It helps balance my mind as well as my body, ever so important. 

How do I manage it? Carefully. Like every thing else when living with a mood cycling condition, it's all about finding the "sweet spot". Too little, I'm depressed and out of my routine. Too much, I'm hypomanic. Ironically, it's the depressed days I don't feel like working out, and the hypomanic ones when I feel like I could run a marathon (I've never run anything close to a marathon, though it's on my bucket list) but I have to be mindful. By keeping it as consistent as I can, I can help to keep my cycles as under control as possible. 

I also have to time it with medications. I don't like to work out right after meds for several reasons: 1.) I often get side effects such as dizziness and nausea and the works with my meds. Nobody wants the room to start spinning when they're on the treadmill. 2.) I'm more likely to be hyponatremic, and the more I sweat, the more sodium I lose, making me hyponatremic. But, if I wait too long, I'll get the medication daze/drowsiness, and then I won't have the energy to exercise, so I have to get it somewhere right in the middle, or if possible, in the AM before I take any meds at all. 

I have to forgive myself when I slip. There are days, weeks, where depression kicks my ass, where the stress of work and my business and life just take up my days and even though I know exercise will be good for me, I can't make myself do it. Other than yoga. Always yoga, every Wednesday. Luckily, it's scheduled and paid for in advance, through my work, and holds me accountable for going. No matter my week, it's my happy place. And I have to learn not to be hard on myself when I miss my workouts, but to gently coax myself back in. To tell myself, "you don't have to do 45 minutes or even 30. Go outside and walk around the block a few times. Do one or two shoulder/arm/whatever exercises. Get on the eliptical for 15 minutes. It's better than nothing. You can do more when you have more energy." It's a battle. Having worked in fitness for years, it was my life. I was never not active, never not "in shape". I battled body image and disordered eating, and there are times when, after missing workouts frequently, I feel those shadows in the corner of my mind. I have to push them back, to not let them win, or even get a foot in the door. I know how that goes, and it doesn't go well. So I have learned to be kinder to myself, at least most days. It's a key component for me. 

I've recently begun to tie my fitness goals into my health activism. I've been doing as many charity/fundraising events for all types of illnesses, both those that have affected me and my loved ones, or just those I feel particularly need extra support. My current  goal is training for my second Out Of The Darkness Overnight Walk (shameless plug here!). I'm raising money and awareness for this event, which I did for the first time last year, and was such a moving and important experience, that I'm doing it again. If you're unfamiliar with this event, it's an overnight walk, somewhere between 16 and 20 miles, sundown until... whenever you finish in the early hours of the AM, for suicide awareness and prevention. It truly was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. So right now, I'm slowly increasing my mileage, and focusing on that in terms of "workouts", which is amazing because it combines both my need for exercise and my work in mental health awareness. (PS If I make it to $2000 raised I get an Out of Darkness t-shirt, woo hoo!. Sorry, couldn't help it!).