Thursday, July 31, 2014

Life is like a road. It has bumps, cracks and obstacles, but in the end, it gets you somewhere...

Wow.
I don’t even know where to start?
Honestly, I truly don’t.
Is anybody still around here?
Still waiting for me to post something.
I miss it.
I miss writing.
I miss y’all.
I miss motivating and inspiring.
I had to take steps back though.
It might not be a part of everybody’s journey but it was part of my journey.
It still is.
See, some of you may have though I had it all figured out.
You may have though I had my shit together.
And maybe I did a shy 4 months ago.
Today.
Today I sit here almost in tears, twenty pounds heavier, and still wondering what the hell has happened over these past four months.
I have a list of excuses.
Wanna hear them?
I didn’t think so…
But I quit my job of six years to pursue a new job.
A new job that on the outside seemed perfect.
I would have argued to you until I was blue in the face that it was perfect.
It wasn’t.
It just wasn’t for me.
I didn’t fit.
It did not mesh with me, nor did it mesh with my lifestyle.
I left a job where I could go to the gym every day at lunch to a job that was literally sucking the life out of me.
I hated it.
I hated the hours.
I disliked the way things were ran there, and the poor management.
I missed my family.
I was stressed.
I ate.
I didn’t work out.
There was no time, and when there was time I was too exhausted.
So I would sit on the couch before bed, watch my dvr, and I would eat.
I love food.
Too much…
I eat it all the time.
When I am happy, when I am sad, and every little emotion in between.
Sometimes it may be out of emotion but for the most part I just love food.
It became apparent one day that I no longer could go back to that job.
It was hurting me.
Physically, mentally, and emotionally.
In return it was only hurting myself, and most importantly the people I loved the most, my family.
So I quit.
I have NEVER done that but it was truly something I had to do.
Luckily there is a happy ending to it all.
I am not a bum sitting on the couch feeling sorry for myself all day long.
I found another amazing opportunity and it’s working out.
I love it.
I love the people.
And I get to help people all day.
The tricky part is this.
I am walking at least three to four miles a day.
It’s a mile around our building and we walk this on our breaks.
So that’s all well and fine.
I try to get out and be active at night but that doesn’t always happen.
I got a fitbit (themrsburris@yahoo.com for those that want to be friends) which has helped.
But it hasn’t been enough.
I have gained.
I know it.
I haven’t stepped on the scale in weeks.
I want to eat all the foods.
I want to eat all the foods all the time.
It’s my drug of choice and it has to stop.
I get so mad.
Like really extra crazy mad at myself.
How was it so easy before?
How in the shit did I manage to lose 110+ pounds and now losing 20 seems almost impossible.
I know it’s not.
I mean I know what I have to do.
But how do I not let food take over my life?
It’s gotten to the point that I don’t post on Instagram and I hate seeing people in public.
I am embarrassed and I am ashamed.
People looked up to me, the still do, and I have definitely let them down.
It’s a lot of pressure.
A lot.
I will get there, eventually.
This is just yet another bump, big bump if I might add, in this crazy journey so far.
So I guess I have a question for anybody that might be reading this.
What’s your way of getting back on track?
Of crawling out of the hole that never seems to have a way out of?
I know it's not impossible.
I know that.
I've come so far...


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