I will be the first to admit that I am a negative person.
No. That’s incorrect.
I can be a regular Susie Sunshine, positive energy glittering out of every orifice and pore-
Except when it comes to myself.
I am so self loathing that I could probably find fault with myself if I somehow brokered world peace, cured HIV, ended world hunger, and put the entire planet on clean sustainable energy, all while looking like I was ready for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue cover. A month postpartum.
And it’s exhausting.
I’m already exhausted because I had to ride the subway, and I am a mentally ill neuroatypical who doesn’t like crowds, loud noises, people touching me, and who especially doesn’t like men leaning on me while they blast really terrible Jamaican dance club music with homophobic slurs and metallic screeches from their phone.
But then I get home, too tired to go to the gym and be exposed to more people, to more music that I can only cover up, not silence. Too tired to physically exert myself, to push, to Eye of the Tiger over my tired body and my brain struggling to rest.
And I start in on myself. Fat. Lazy. Pathetic. Other people get up at 5:30 and go and work out, and go to work for a whole day, or go after. Other people have children. Other people make their entire lives work, and you-
And then I have nothing, because I have convinced myself I have nothing, that I am nothing. That I might as well not even bother trying.
Then I try to push the self-loathing away. It’s a lot of work. It’s a bit like foam rolling, or self administered deep tissue massage. It’s hard to hear, and work through. Then, I’m a little more awake, still a little tired, but there’s a lot more clarity.
I remember I am mentally ill, working with difficulties that others don’t have. I am going to fail, have setbacks. It’s something that humans will do as a matter of course, and expecting absolute perfection is not only ridiculous, it’s setting myself up for constant disappointment, which is a straight shot to more self loathing, and exhaustion.
So, no gym today. That’s fine. Smaller goal. I can give myself that.
As soon as I process breaking my Duolingo streak and losing my bet.