Exercising the Demons

I took the advice of my therapist and began exercising at the gym. I've had the gym membership for several weeks, but __ happened and then ___ happend, and basically, I didn't go.

So, for the last three days I've gone every day. I've gotten over my fear of looking around, although I'm still afraid to look at people. I'm kind of still afraid to be over in the free weights section, too. But I've seen all kinds of people, including heavier people like me, and that helps.

It also helps that I took a Weights and Fitness class in HS. I'm obviously not lifting the amount of weight I did in HS, but at least I recognize most of the machines. And I'm doing good. My muscles fatigue, and that's the main point. I work up a sweat, whether lifting or cardio.

I feel fantastic.

I hear about exercise as a way to combat depression, but I've never seen an actual study, and in fact, some of the reports I read are less than encouraging.

But I'll tell you what: exercise beats that feeling of helplessness. There's no way not to feel powerful when you're working out.

I suppose it helps that I have little or no expectation for myself, since I haven't done it in forever. Even with running, I'm starting out super-slow. I'm approaching working out like this: I want to build a good habit, so I'm not going to push myself to out-perform myself all the time, just to go. I just need to build the habit of going to the gym every day, like brushing my teeth.

I've learned from Al Marrewa that I can defend myself if I have to, which reduces the need to turn every potential threat into a full-blown panic.

I'm also just becoming more of myself, and I had no idea how much I missed myself, and how active and tough I was. Like, I was really a badass compared to how I am now. And I can really be a badass again.

I'm certainly not healed; right now, as I work on getting to the gym, the cleaning of the apartment has completely suffered. If my fantastic and amazing BF weren't picking up the slack, it would be terrible. Of course, he's working doubles for the next three or four days, so he will NOT be helping out (I won't let him and he couldn't anyway). so I need to get on that. A load of laundry every day. Putting clothes away. cleaning the cat litter. Making the beds. doing the dishes, taking out the trash, putting things away. Last night I just rested, because I really needed it, emotionally and everything. It was a rare weeknight without the kiddoes, and I just needed to decompress.

But you know what? Everything's just a little bit easier when you're doing something good for yourself, and you know you're not last on the totem pole, nose-deep in the shtuff with the weight of the whole pole on your shoulders.

Note: See the comment below? Albert Marrewa actually responded. How cool is that?

To give full credit and to answer the question: I read "Feminine Warrior" (from the library), which totally kicked ass. So much so I had to buy it (and I'm still dealing with all of the reticence involved in buying things for myself, which makes it a big deal to make a purchase).

But, Mr. Marrewa, you certainly did help! Even just knowing that there are ways to defend myself that aren't overly complicated, and that I could if I had to, helps me feel much more secure, and I feel more empowered to then make decisions on whether or not I will take someone's crap or not. I realize there is actually the element of choice, which I could not even see before learning that I'm not helpless.

Thanks! For the book and for responding, which is still so cool I can hardly breathe.