Why I Woke Up and Decided to Write a Blog

For years I've observed people online, doing YouTube video workouts, publishing newsletters, making fancy reels of their progress and I would keep saving those exercise routines from Pinterest (I have about 50+ saved) and never use them. I would immediately think:

"This is what everyone is doing right?"

My world became smaller and smaller, trying to fit myself into the box of perfection.

Getting ideas from the internet, taking notes on life, comparing, judging myself, how incredibly depressing. But I kept doing it. I would see people running their own businesses, succeeding. People seemed to be moving in fast forward all around me.

But there is a distinct difference of why everyone around me seemed to be getting it and I was standing still. Everyone had the flow and I'm stuck on the bank, watching. And the frustration is exhausting.

Why Can't I Just Do It?

I knew I had C-PTSD (complex post traumatic stress disorder) from my childhood abuse, but kept thinking that shouldn't stop me. I should be able to workout, eat a decent meal, take my dog for a walk. Everyone is able to do this.

But somehow basic things were feeling impossible. I'd plan, get a little started, and then next thing I knew, I was frozen at the kitchen counter, or I somehow was back in bed. I couldn't understand why this was happening. Was I lazy? Was I not disciplined enough? I could hear the voices or friends or family in my head:

There's seriously no reason to be that tired

You just need to get out of bed and get started

You have too many plans, just pick one and do it

And the worst:

Yeah I get like that too sometimes

It was the worst because it wasn't the same. They would complain too, but still manage to clean their house, exercise, run errands. The feeling of standing on a deserted island is real. And then would come the feelings of jealousy and the incredible sense of unfairness. Other people were still getting it. And I wasn't. And it took years before I clued in that there was a reason.

The Day The Scale Broke The Illusion

I knew my weight was increasing but I tried to ignore it. I will never forget the morning I stepped on the scale.

190lbs.

The heaviest I have ever been.

This panic raced through me. How did I manage to get like this? How can I get rid of it quickly? Why had I ignored signals for so long? The back pain, the hip pain were getting to be constant and this was an obvious reason. Other people have a decent exercise and diet plan that they do everyday. Why can't I do that and stick to it?

I hated feeling ashamed. But other voices came into my head

Oh well, who cares

I'm not capable of losing the weight so what's the point? Remember all those workouts you saved?

Someday my life will be over and it won't matter anyways. My body isn't that important

Even though I was ashamed, I would somehow end up back in bed. And from my little corner I would still save workouts on Pinterest and it would make me feel better, even if it was just for a second.

But I knew I was trapped in my own body.

The Shift: What if The Trauma Actually Counts?

It took me forever to finally realize and accept something that I had been resisting. Mostly resisting because I didn't want to be different, I didn't want to have a problem. I realized that my trauma isn't something I would just "get over" or I'd work around. I realized it was shaping every single thing I did day to day.

My CPTSD felt like an excuse. Like I was saying

"Oh poor me. Bad stuff happened to me, now I can't do the dishes"

It was the reason my routines were falling apart. It was why I would sit on my bed without moving because I couldn't make the decision between walk the dog or have breakfast first. Mornings felt heavy, and the simplest decisions felt impossible. For years I tried to push through whether I was having anxiety, felt depressed, or noticed my OCD was getting in the way.

I tried hard to force discipline. I tried hard to do what everyone else was doing. Stuff like, military routines, 5am club, strength training, yoga body.

I would be frustrated because the only thing I managed that day was to make my bed.

What Trauma Looks Like In Real Life

Here's the thing: it's the ordinary moments that the trauma shows up.

• You made one meal this week. The rest of the week fell apart

• You watch people exercising and feel envy instead of motivation

• You plan an activity you enjoy like painting or writing, and instead you find yourself lying down because some kind of force just wouldn't keep you standing.

It's exhausting and confusing.

But it's real and I promise it's not just you.

I always thought my past and trauma would come up as flashbacks and panic. Sometimes it is. But most of the time its just having to live an ordinary life. Sometimes it's just life in slow motion, while my bed is calling me, or just being stuck in confusion, while making an incredibly simple decision.

Redefining "Enough"

I've seen a lot of those shirts in the last decade that say "You are enough". Honestly, I hate them because to me, sure I could be enough but I feel like I'm not doing enough. I'm falling behind everyone else. If I count every little thing I do as a victory, I don't feel as slow. I was start to to look at my own lane, without comparing to someone else's.

This morning I made my bed. And it's awesome. To others its a daily habit. Today I'm so incredibly proud of myself that I did this. All day I remind myself that I did this. And even though I have a list of a bunch of stuff I want to do, I still reflect that I made the bed. And that is enough.

It's not about being too lazy to do anything else. It's about biology and what my body is physically and mentally able to do today. And it's enough.

This is the reward.

Small victories matter. The rest of the things on my list can wait because today I did do something. And it counts.

Other things that I realized count:

• Turning music on my phone so I will at least get up and get dressed

• Playing with the dog in the house when I can't make it outside

• Having a shower even if I can't bring myself to wash my hair

• Folding a few clothes even if I don't put them away

• Moving from the bed to the couch

This has become my new standard and it feels like freedom.

What This Blog Is

I started this blog because I felt like I had discovered some kind of enormous secret. The amount of other people out there who were struggling with weight, exercise and daily living and didn't know it was because of trauma must be baffling.

This is my journey on how to manage it.

It's not a transformation blog. Or a fitness manual. And not a self help list or steps with techniques.

This is a record of what its like to try to live inside a traumatized body without hating it. It's about noticing, naming and surviving. It's about documenting every little victory, all the collapses I'm going to have, and the moments of clarity. And I wanted to share it with you. I wanted to share with you how to not punish yourself everyday. Or to try and be better.

Today

I woke up and wrote this. I didn't even have a plan when writing this. I just thought I needed to start somewhere.

Some days that's all you can do.

Some mornings just showing up and sitting down is all you can do.

And today, writing was enough.